Peter Pan Advice

          That I would be labeled as suffering from a peter pan complex I'd imagine would come as little surprise to anyone who has taken a passing glance at my blog, or met me.  Much of the time the same folks that would say I have never grown up often also bitch about me pointing out logical fallacies in their decision making process. Our cultural ideas of adulthood, and the expected path for development are in my opinion not just flawed, but counter productive to my development as not a human, who knows how long I'll be one. It's my development as a whole being, of the mind learning to be master of emotional, and physical being.  Not devoid of emotional content, or physical desires, this only leads to repression, and usually uncontrolled outbursts.  The ability to think clearly becomes clouded as another energy center takes over for the duration.  What is mature, or adult, who decided on the ideals?
         Rites of Passage might be developmentally some of the most important events a self aware being can experience.  Being acknowledged by the public as having transitioned from one group to another, or one phase of life to another.  Cultures through out recorded history have used these ceremonial events. They mark the death, and rebirth a phoenix moment in an individuals life. It actually causes a person to think of themselves differently, as well as be viewed by the wider world differently.  Most of what we think of as reality, is a mental overlay, it is and is not real.  Most of the systems of human centered survival, are high levels of energetic organization. Meaning they would suffer greatly from effects of entropy if not tended.  From ideas of community, to finance, education, governance, the list is almost endless. I'm not saying these are not real, I'm saying we made them up, their reality relies on our acceptance of them as meaningful, and applicable.  These ceremonial events filled with ritual, and formal meaning mark an acceptance of the veracity of these institutions, and the ideas they hold.  These would be fine if the patterning, the indoctrination they presented was reflective of greater reality, for me that answer has been no. Only that what these do is not teach, it's indoctrinate into a system that for me holds very little value.  Before I get bogged down in the pitfalls of the US, the effect of the ceremony itself is what I am getting at.  What we think of as self, our idea of ego identification is altered in dramatic ways by participation in these events.  In altering the way the individual, and greater reality labels the individual. After a certain point in the system an individual must set aside their own ideas, and thoughts to represent the ideas held by the established order. This is mind control, or shaping, mentoring, the differences being of method, and intention. With each ceremony the individual is invested a bit more into the system that offered the accolade, it creates ready defenders regardless of the logic of the position held. This is an amazing strategy, it co-ops opposition, as well as shuts down rational thought or dialog. It is the same one used often by royalty in taking control by making nobles of another country to invested to oppose. Creating defenders out what would normally be adversaries.
        Take a moment, and watch the movie hook, even peter pan was lured by playing pirate, and only by becoming peter pan once again was able to save what really mattered, the children. Not just his, but the lost boys too. It's never to late to become a kid again!

Jack
aka
PanseyBard 

How to Kill the Rabbit, and Live to Tell the Tail!

       To be perfectly clear, and up front, what follows for many will seem madness, and that is to be expected. Being raised in a culture that prizes logical order, the structure of binary, of code, and cryptography. The mindscape of symbol, metaphor, trans possessive personal, where you are so vain you do think all the songs are about you. Yet you know for certain, no one knows who you are, nor is there any reason for them to.  If you haven't already been baffled by the psychobabble bullshit I have already slung, than feel free to tag along as I lay out a little of the slaying of my own white rabbit.
       Hindsight as they say is 20/20 a blatant misrepresentation if there ever was for a truism. Evidence supports the closer to the events the recounting of the event is, the more accurate that recounting is.  Hindsight in ones own life is a bit different affair, that odd paradox of observing ones self from multiple perspectives, or camera angles, lending creative license to almost endless reimagining of the events, known to have taken place. As easy as a shift in background, a snappy change of speech, alteration of wardrobe, and voila a story everyone knows, yet no one can say it happened. At least not quite the way it's been written, so when I say all the songs, stories, hymns, condemnations, recriminations, desecrations, are about me. It's not an ego aggrandizement, it's a learned response to being projected on my entire life. To be fair, it's a wonderful game, to be the secret unknown object of all attention, regardless of intent, or purpose, solely due to coming to the acceptance of the interconnectedness of all things as a given. Or at least that sounds good in theory, in practice the experience has been quite different.  I am not religious, dogmatic devotion to any belief for me leaves no room for growth, no chance new. It's a place of stagnation, due to entropy, as the saying goes, once you stop growing you start dying. While it offers continuity, it can lead to being trapped in time. As the dwindling numbers of all the throwback anti progress faith make plain, stagnation is demise. I think of it more as, once you close the circle, it's an egg, and eggs, hatch, or get broken, or rot, but they do not stay eggs. Oddly, the trick, and it is a trick, is dissociative, that ability to completely discount personal identity, to the point where you suck in identity from all around. For children at play, it's just imagination, put that is encouraged to be set aside for more practical pursuits.  All while this world is driven by the imaginations of a seeming select few who are recognized as such, and encouraged, to bring forth their vision for the sake of everyone,  The proverbial, hey kid you wanna be a star?  I remember the first time that happened to me, at least sort of, I was to young to approached directly, so it was relayed through my mother.  We lived in socal, San Diego area, mom asked me if I would be interested in doing commercials, because someone had approached her, but that the choice was mine.  I said no, it sounded alot like work to me, and frankly I was already a slacker, doing what I wanted, not what was expected. By 5th grade, a major turning point for my life, I had played center halfback in state level soccer tournament, plucked out of normal classes, identified as gifted with dyslexia, and add. While being a latch key kid from kindergarten, being raised by single mother. Was there other family, and people around sure, I was not isolated by any means. I was self reliant, I had responsibilities, even when I abused them.  I was for the most part put in charge of myself, or took charge of myself, from as early as I can remember. This of course would set up some nasty confrontations with my mother later in life, though those too are all just part of the story. The fictionalized narrative of identity, used to single me out from the herd of humanity.
       Till about the age of 16 or so, I on a decent enough track for a classic underachiever, I did well in the subjects that interested me, and got by in the ones that didn't. Often it had less to do with subject matter, and more to do with presentation.  I had always been interested in being social, so when I dropped out of school, the jobs I looked for were ones with high levels of social interaction. Mainly retail, quickly in management of course, up to running stores. Often up to nefarious purpose, like working at gfox in the danbury fair mall, getting moved to domestics from the loading dock, a couple of friends and I pretty much ran it, our superior just checking in, and occasionally taking us to count license plates. When we were not given the raise promised, we picked black friday to walk out, they kind of caved, but how could an anchor store in the biggest mall in  New England at least at the time, allow itself to be held hostage by 3, 17 or 18 year old kids.  Of course they broke us up, not fired, just moved us around. For me it was domestics, I told the HR woman, she might as well fire me, that I would not work in domestics. She ignored me, so I spent next few months sneaking out a back door, and playing video games, or whatever, and sneaking back in. It was just how I rolled, no matter how pleasant or nice or smooth talking, or whatever someone might seem. That does not preclude them screwing you over, especially when they flat out tell you they are going to, that does not take a genius to understand. Once in what for me was the perfect spot of the moment, running a new and used video game store, on the edge of a district far from the home office. I hired folks like me, or that were ok with my style, we had code, like "who wants to take out the trash" and yes we took out the trash, and while doing so we took a few hits off a bowl. When we had to do title by title inventories once a month, I made it an event, a party. The store thrived to where Toy's R US invoked a non-competition clause in it's lease to force a location change, leading to my breaking the relationship with the company.  This was not a tough choice at all, for while working there I pretty much stumbled into being a connection for pot, at the time just commercial brick, There was never an intention to do so, I was earning enough so I could plan ahead in my own habits, so they were less of a distraction, no one likes being out of their drug of choice, whatever it might, yoga, prayer, exercise, heroin, all alter body chemistry, changing the physiological state, which alters the perception, and experience, and interaction with the world. This idea can be taken all the way to anything your body is not self producing being in essence a drug, ridiculous in the extreme I know, but who's definitions are these?
        We tend to gravitate toward friends that have proclivities at least in some ways like our own, so of course I had stoner friends. I wouldn't even go to job interviews if I wasn't stoned, I wanted to be sure no one would think anything of me being high at work. Did it so well, the only time anyone said anything was when I wasn't stoned, because that was the odd behavior from their perspective, and for me, stoned was the normal.  When you have some, people will ask for it, and being friends, and it being pot, of course you share, that kind of sharing grows rapidly. Especially if your good at keeping of the numbers. I was full on fronted, a lb to start, at a stupid high price really, but the prices were already so outrageous, I literally undercut em by half. A quarter dropped from 60 to 30, in short order it was tough to even leave the house, and when I wanted to take a vacation, or even go for a weekend, rewarding someone a friend, or housemate was well worth it. At one point, a full client base was just transferred over to me, as the woman was worried about her child being taken if she was arrested. For me the budding pot empire, in a sleepy corner of southern CT, allowed free time, to play, and explore. Having been recently introduced to lsd, and loving the effects, I quickly poured through altered states of consciousness teachings from channeled sources, to Castenada, to Leary, Dass, and the like, on to Kabbalah, tarot, Crowley. I still have some of what for me the most influential texts, but from an intuitive, as well as logical perspective, and they mesh quite nicely. The crazy out of nowhere nature of quantum, intuition, and the logic for why that is exactly how things do function seem a matter of, duh, and like I'm the only one that hasn't figured it out, as seemingly everywhere I turn, the symbols that help shape, mold me are everywhere telling me things.  Things not for me, but for everyone, though few see them as even connected. All the lsd, over the course of about a year and half, lots of days popping a 10 strip to fry in meditation for hours, upon hours. If it made sense to use words to communicate, I felt I did not get far enough from everyday consciousness states,  I didn't just want to know, I had to know. I had judged the world, as being unworthy of my presence, without even understanding that was what I was doing.  I screamed at whatever was there, because I knew there had to be something, and if there wasn't, than it didn't matter anyway.  "IF THIS IS ALL THERE IS TO THIS PLACE THAN I WANT NO PART OF IT". Holy crap, when you do that with neural pathways jammed open due to heavy lsd use, other things notice. When you are sincere in your desire to not be here, death answers, whatever that means for you. All the while, maintaining a committed relationship, being asked to be the father of someone elses child, Playing sitter for the spun out kids that were having bad trips. Providing space for almost anyone that was approached me as a friend, until they showed me otherwise. Than crashing back to earth for on the one side being weary of getting to deep, and the woman I loved at the time insisting if I didn't give up the life we were done.  None of this caused me the distress, that the contradictory programming of entertainment, versus practicality, or security if you will.  Drugs are bad, but how many stars in every field has altered how they see the world.  Education and Institutionalization, merging in my life before my eyes, and me a lover of information, trapped between a need to consume data, while not becoming it.  Take it right to my edge, look back at myself, laugh, and allow myself to fall backwards into the abyss. I was taught at 18, there isn't always someone to catch you, or at least not always the person you expected.  My love for being in the company of women extended to no care for my personal style. Generally dressing for comfort, and event are good enough for me, I did however understand very well, that if I didn't care about what I wore, that didn't mean others wouldn't. Making friends with a few differing fashion style females not a problem in a mall, getting them to pick out clothing they feel you look good in, also not a problem. Than you just pick a style, put on the costume, and allow that woman's style attract other women that share it.  Being adaptable, or having that element of theater in all aspects of life. A life itself becomes a show, being put on by you, for who knows, and at that point you almost have no choice but to choose amusement of self, until your directed otherwise by an authority you recognize, whatever that maybe, there are things that get your body dead faster than it's ability to repair. The limitation is not of body, it is of the individual, and is different for everyone. It could be a mental block, or an emotional imbalance, out of control growth, in the case of cancers, is generally pointing to a out of control growth in another area of life. When you are told your show is now considered illegal, immoral, and just plain wrong. You quit all drugs, go sober for 10 years, have people who see auras tell you your grey, and wait to die. When that is happening, and simultaneously your being told, things like. A detective that investigated a theft from a giant gas station that employed me briefly, "you might be the smartest person I've ever interviewed", or being told by a psychologist who is actively writing text books by request, "you might be the most balanced person I've ever met".  Just a few highlights of the complete contradiction between the perception people have of me that know me, and the rejection of the life I've lived that has allowed me to be me.  So sure, I have not gone screaming from the rooftops look at me, I don't need the aggravation, because regardless of if it's praise, or condemnation, it's yours not mine. I'm fucked up enough on my own to need any help in labeling me crazy.  I have a head full of books, movies, songs, tears, exultations, murder, and mayhem, going across at least 27000 or so years. I only recall a smattering of any portion of it in any given moment, but it comes in a torrent when I allow it to unfold back out in it's own way, and time.  So sure, I have spent much of my life around the edges, it was the space I could find that could accommodate me, I break eggs, sometimes they are thrown at the front doors of a church that has just been painted. Other times it's my own limited conception of existence. I've never thought of myself as smart, everyone else keeps telling me I am, no matter how much protest, yet I pride myself on being able to reason, even through the muck and mire of twisted complex emotional yuck. Does that make me smart, or just insane, does it even matter?
I've finally gotten to the point, I'm good with my life being a condemned, While I love being the person I am, fictional character and all. What it took for me, I would not wish on anyone else, and would do what I could to prevent it needing to be as traumatic.

Jack
aka
PanseyBard

Trying a Different Approach

I am a slacker, my life is a cautionary tale, not something to aspire to or emulate.  Do not misconstrue that the I in me would wish to be any other than me.  Only that the emotional, and psychological traumas I needed to inflict upon myself to become as I am, are not anything I would wish upon anyone.  In searching answers to those ultimate questions I pulled an icarus. Not once, or even twice, nah I'm not that bright.  I had to push it till it cost me my top teeth, and partially my bottom ones, still getting over that one.  People have talked about genetic, cellular and other types of memory.  Now we are even to the point of beginning to grapple with ideas of moving without moving.  It's possible, without a doubt, it's not even that difficult when you've grasped for inkling of our true position in creation, and it fried you back into your place.  We can make black holes, we can warp space and time, we end up in the formless abyss, and no one but our dead mourns our passing.  I love people, I love the planet, all life can snuff out in our little corner of existence, and there might be some metaphorical tears shed on what ever plane of existence you and yours hail from.
Do we really have the right to take chances with the planet, solar system, galaxy, or on and on?
some folks seem to be interested in how I see things, some are offended, I'm ok with that too.  I know what I like, I feel what I need, I feel what the people around me need, using people loosely.
If we meet and you think you would like to chat, I'm happy to do so, if I offend, just tell me to please stop, and go away, and I will.  What I can not abide is total trickery, and dishonesty, I'm to good at it, and it hurts me to much to inflict those kinds injuries on myself.
I'll try to do a better job with some pix, and the like at showing kind of how I see this world, and why sometimes it makes me cry when others are so happy!  btw, if there is any confusion, I an hetrosexual male, that is so in love with women that they are my kryptonite.  it's pretty much the same with everyone, but we all get to pick where, and what we eat right?
Never been suicidal, not that I feel people do not have to right to decide the fate of what can be in this experience the only thing they can ever hope to claim ownership over, which is really just stewardship, we have horribly misunderstood, like so much of our K based systems, in such a rush to get somewhere.  They forgot that Wisdom, knows when, and where to apply knowledge, and thats why Wikipedia, has a capital W. No it's just that what is point of suicide in a zero sum universe. what comes in goes out, it's hotel california, we either come to grips, or we just keep blowing bubbles.

Much Love
Jack

there was a song from when I was teenage drunken drop out in the punker days

If some of your brightest kids are seemingly like the metaphors in this song, you might wanna take a look in the mirror before asking how things got this bad.  I was almost a perfect reflection of a child raised for the most part by the stuff around me, mostly tv, music, games, starting as early as I can remember.  I was never mommies monster at all, just a reflection of the monsters so many of us have become.
gonna try to finish up some e-mails, change get outside, and upload some pictures to instagram, in case anyone is curious what I'm about today.

Do You Have What It Takes!!!! A Love Letter to Humanity

     Humanity vrs Death

This has been the age old question, to conquer the end.  We all face it, we all find our own answers, and we think we have it all figured out.  When your world is black and white, or written in binary this might satisfy.  Like everything else we are, this is just a holdover from previous developmental cycles.  These go back not to when we had words for me to write this down, but back to primordial ooze of single celled organisms.  The universe or God, or as it's coalescing into my essence as panversal is in and of itself conscious, it is structured energy, which is what everything is. Information processing.  As every would be sage, poet, musician, blade of grass, and grain of sand has been telling us forever.  This is a love story, this is a passion play, the stories do not even change, they get rebranded, updated, but for at least the last 6 thousand years we have all learned variations of these same stories.  Oh the names change, characters get makeovers, and  costume changes,  But from the Chinese dragon emperor's, to the Dogon's of the Sahara, the Aboriginals of Australia, down the lines it goes, not in one place but in them all.  We came from the stars, that concept has been twisted around to mean so many things to so many people, from the ubermensch of the aldebaran to Pharaonic gods of Egypt, Right on back to the what we are told is our earliest civilizations in Sumer, and I'm not here to today argue that point.  I do not care when, or where, or actually even who.  I'm a big picture person, I do really well at taking a dispassionate stance and getting as wide a view as possible calling it like I see it.  A valuable skill if you can find work for it, most of my friends just say I think to much, and they are sometimes right.  In taking that position expansive view point, the patterns just kinda pop out, like the rivers in this text if you let your eyes unfocus, and just like that, the information you get from the text is not the same, and that view is not even on whole thought of as particularly useful.  The people are interested in the words, not the rivers, so I learned to see the words like everyone else around me did, only they didn't seem to say the same thing to me as to everyone else.  As a matter of fact they said the same as the rivers, and they were almost all saying the same things.  Even when they seemed disjointed, or unrelated the same words were always there.

From the ecstatic altered state inducing dances of the Whirling  Dervishes, or Tantric sex practices, Yoga, and Breathing techniques, in joyous upliftment of the celebration of life.  On down into the depths of despair, and  tragedy, and depravity.  They all contain at there core I am alive, I am here, shouting into the darkness, longing for or hoping against that return response.  I'm here I see you! This is the most wonderfully terrifying moment for all of us, and in our polarized, 2 dimensional world view of dark versus light we have left room for only 2 options.  Some say it's love/hate, some fight/flight, it doesn't matter what the choices are labeled as, the important part is the limiting of choice.  It's the offer of false simplicity, and simple is easy, and comforting, even at it's worst it's at least predictable. I mean if I only have 2 choices, there is always a 50% chance I'm right.  This is very useful in long term evolution of life. Kill or be killed is valid for much of what we think of as life. The response of nature is always the same, no matter the method used to carry it out, the answer for nature is always, I want to survive.  The fox is in hen house to eat to survive, and we made it nice lunch box, and then killed it when it came to collect the meals we so kindly laid out for it.  We penned in the range animals, and kept all the goodness of their flesh to ourselves. We killed the wolves not because they ate people, like dogs around the food bowl we chased off our rivals.  This existential crisis of just the struggle to survive molded us and shaped us into the most successful predator on the planet bar none.  That being on the top of the food chain looking down on all the lesser species is pretty nice spot, it's good to be the king no doubt.  Being at the top, and staying at the top are not the same, and getting to top means your not what you were when you started.  We celebrate our predatory nature everywhere, from world wars to gold diggers, from pirates to emperors.  The monuments to our depravity know no bounds, from triumphal arches to tombs we proclaim our divine heritage of immortality.  All in the confused attempt to be remembered, to live on, to proclaim our own mastery over all we survey.  This is where our delusions of grandeur really kick in,  We start to believe our own hype, and our success translates into leisure time as we have come to call it.  This is the true mark of a successful predator, how little time they spend on survival. For those fortunate few at the top of the food chain, it's everywhere, this new found leisure time allows for reflection.  Not just to plan the next meal, but more abstract, things not so immediate in the world currently inhabited find the space to become known.  A shift starts to occur, to manage your food, because lets face it, your not as young as you were last year, and well how many times can you chase a rabbit till the thrill gets old.  So we take the tasty stuff, and shape it, bend it to our will, protect it from those who would take it, you know normal human stuff.  At this point we already won, we have no natural predator to contend with, nothing to keep our expansion in check.  As predators though we are ever vigilant, lest some scavenger steal our kill, if we lack a predator we make one up, when we run out decent prey, we move on looking for new places to hunt.  With nothing else left to do we even hunt each other, oh we give it all sorts of reasons, but it always come down to the 2 choices we decided were the only ones we have.  We do it because we want what they have, or we are afraid they will take whats ours.  Having nothing else to contend with, having effectively already won the struggle for day to day survival, ensuring our genetic heritage is continued.  We have time to place ourselves in the cosmic fun house, and the picture is as majestic as it horrifying.  This is when we begin to get that glimpse of our next existential crisis. Having conquered death in an immediate fashion, it becomes a personal struggle, the, but what about me's kick in.  We know our blood will be flowing and pumping even if it's through anothers veins, but still it isn't enough.  The I is screaming in terror, what happens to me, I did all this work to get here, and I'm still going to die. After fighting death for so long, we begin a new battle, now we are after time.  How many years can you cling to life becomes the new game, and being predators we play it with gusto.  In the time game anything not you becomes a greater threat the longer it hangs around,  just like an infection setting in, or how food rots, we start to learn with profound shock, if your not living, your dying.  Or a bit more accurately, when you stop growing, you start dying, even closer, if your not expanding your contracting.  This of course is still only a 2 choice idea, it's still locks us into an illusion of choice.  If the battle is life and death, and answer shouted by everything is always life how do we reconcile this dichotomy.  How can we celebrate the victor in the arena when he dripping in the blood, sweat, and feces of his opponent.  How do we tell our children, that it's not ok to hurt others, and when we decide they are no longer children shove a gun in their hand and tell them to kill their neighbor, or be killed.  No death is not our boogeyman any more, we coax, and torture nature to provide not what we need, or even what we reasonably desire.  We squeeze the golden goose till it bleeds gold, till it's lushest oziest parts are dripping down our chin, staining our silk tie, cotton shirt, lizard skin belt, leather pants, and fur trimmed alligator boots till we puke.  We squeeze the last drop, fish the oceans dry, not out of need, for our needs are modest, we do it because we have been offered no other options.  Consume, or be consumed.  Once our opponents are long dusty, and our glory is fading we miss the good old simpler days, those we overcame taking on status in the telling of our own stories.  Yes we carry our demons with us, and with every passing year they become larger, and our deeds in over coming them more heroic.  We Proclaim it to all Money doesn't grow on trees you know, and the giving tree withers it's leaves stripped bear, it's bark yanked free, it's flesh made pulp and reconstituted so we can make some pretty pictures on it, and call it ours.  I don't hate money, money is an idea, and in the realm of ideas I swim with the sharks.  I've been exposed to the trivium, and quadrivium, pi, phi, and even the Harris curve, our newest choice of curves, a new path to follow, a new star before our eyes.  We build our temples to our creators, where babies cries are shunned. We rip our ugly growths from our own flesh, and call it cancer, and deny it's attachment to our emotions.  Oh make no mistake we have damned ourselves for sure, for in our process of becoming, we have to live with what we've done. This is our state of terror, our splash of liquid light, our stairway to heaven, and highway to hell. Dharma, Karma, Sin, our triplets of story, our mistresses of fate.  Weighing our heart against perfection, the living can not pass, for the living sit in judgment, while the dead just watch it pass. The living write the story down, building, destroying, crafting. Deluding themselves all the while, with pretty little dreams, of I can do no harm.  We label ourselves dogs, and wolves, black widows, snakes, bears and list goes on and on, than we wonder why we kill.  Our own sophistication has become our trap de jour, and I'm crazy enough to be handing out peter pan advice. In our marvel of our own magnificence our march to greater contrast, our rush to ever bigger, bolder, badder.  We circle our wagons, lock down the prison, close the bathroom door, all because we can't stand the smell of our own shit.  I've been eating shit my whole life, there is no possible way for me to deny it, I gave my top teeth eating the shit put in front of me, oh it's lies were so sweet.  The numbing of the mind, of the soul, of the heart, that sweet oblivion of nothingness to take away the anguish of being a pimp or ho.  I'm so tired of eating shit for being me, for seeing things I see, I will always chose my truth over your lies, I have to, it's the only way I can live, and die with myself.

Life eats Life, it's all there is, when you make it all one, we end up eating our own shit, you might think me mad, and that is fine we are all mad here, that is not in question.  The question we are asking is can we live with ourselves, for eating ourselves.  Meat is Murder, and it's all sucking off someone elses tit, we all know these things, they are not new or novel. Don't believe me, well take a look at these. shit burger  it doesn't even matter if it's a hoax, or fact, that it's there.  That we have become so pained by where meat comes from that people have even contemplated this rings alarm bells.  If thats not your speed how about this.

    That is adorable little girl is Taylor Momsen, in the Grinch, many of you know here from a tv show she did that I don't recall. Some know now, as the lead singer of The Pretty Reckless.  For much of America she grew up on their tv screens, I missed that part as I was absorbing myself in other worlds to escape the pain of lying in my bed. While I was distracted by the glitter of the lights in the distance, She went from singing 

Fahoo Fores Dahoo Dores
Welcome Christmas Come this way
Fahoo Fores Dahoo Dores
Welcome Christmas, Christmas day
Welcome, welcome fahoo ramus
Welcome, welcome dahoo damus
Christmas day is in our grasp,
So long as we have hands to clasp

More lyrics http://www.allthelyrics.com/lyrics/dr_seuss/welcome_christmas-lyrics-1146415.html#ixzz3U6AtBZ30

To a lovely young woman who's words I hear on many lips, from many tongues.  Thank you Ms. Momsen, while I do not really do the fan thing, I see you, and your beautiful to me.  This is the price of our denial of nature, this bitter pill is our salvation. In our death spiral of guilt, over all our perceived failures, our pitfalls of loss, we finally give up the ghost. Not because we have to die, because we no longer can take the pain of being alive, and what we have to do to stay that way.

The world devours it's young, Because we like sweets, and babies taste best. It doesn't matter how twisted the appetite. The old say youth is wasted on the young, while the young scream never trust anyone over 30.  The age old struggle, the old lion wants to keep his pride, while the young just wants a piece of tail.  The widow ate her suitor after he dropped of his seed, not from grief hatred or malice, she knows he'll eat the young, cuz it's good to be the king, But not when there can only be one.

I love you all, it's just a matter if you can accept the only love I know how give, cuz its a jagged little pill.

listen to the music, not just the beat, pay attention to the story, it's your soul speaking

Make up your own mind

Jack

aka

panseybard

 

Your Children, Your Choice

               Peter the Pirate

Many of you would most likely see me as suffering from a peter pan complex, and that might be one of the kinder labels tossed in my direction.  While I do not argue the label, there is the inclination to challenge the validity of the mainstream concept of an adult.  Most in making the judgement are not questioning my intelligence, maturity, or understanding.  Often it's quite the opposite, with my analysis, and understanding being valued, and sought.  The seeming disconnect happens from my perspective in large part due to how people define an adult.  So what makes a well adjusted adult human?  Is it being able to conform and fit in, becoming a "successful contributing member of society"?  To a degree this would seem an obvious answer, how could one argue with being a success?  What happens when a culture is sick, is it still the rational choice to become what that culture covets?  This is of course the idea, that being considered sane in an insane society is not a measure of psychological health.  Take a little stroll with me, and maybe, just maybe, you'll find a little bit of the Pan you once were.

                Institutionalized

In the west we are so proud of our institutions, be they educational, financial, religious, the list goes on and on.  We leave off the flip side, prisons, mental hospitals, we do this because in general people have been taught to see the world in terms of polarity.  This of course ignores the fact, these are opposames masquerading as opposites, with the outcome of being institutionalized.

  : to cause (a custom, practice, law, etc.) to become accepted and used by many people : to establish (something) as an institution

: to put (someone, such as a mentally ill person) in an institution

These are connotations of pavlovian conditioning, not education, or child development. Taken to it's extreme the goal of an institution is to become indispensable, and condition those in it to become unable to function without it.  There is ample evidence this has been intentional, of course labeled as conspiracy theory.  Frankly that it has gotten that most dismissive of labels only warrants closer inspection.  Take moment, and look for yourself, Dodd Report, deliberate dumbing down,

or even though I'm leary of Alex Jones. Our much vaunted education system was hijacked long ago to keep a fresh supply of human capital ready for exploitation by the corporate institutions.  We want to believe so badly in basic beneficence of our culture, that we ignore some basic facts.  Entrenched systems of power seek to protect their position. Our leaders are selected from, and by these same institutions.  People say they wish only happiness for their children, or they wish for their child to be the best them they can be. Than they package them off to be institutionalized so they can find their place in society.

              Taking Candy from the Mouths of Babies Mama's

Marketing and Consumerism go hand in glove, like peanut butter, and jelly, and damn have we gotten good at it.  I have no doubt even Edward Bernays would be amazed by the level of sophistication our propaganda has risen to.  I call it propaganda because that is exactly what it is, structuring information to create a desired outcome.  In this case parting someone from some currency in exchange for a product, or service.  As corrupt and shortsighted as this economic model might be on the whole. When directed at children, it might just be a crime against humanity.  An extreme statement to be sure, but one that is not very difficult to back up.  Critical reasoning skills are needed in order to counter the automatic psychological processes exploited by advertisers.  Child development, and psychology experts are employed by organizations who have as their motivation profit. These folks use all their skill and understanding, not to enrich the life of your child.  Nah it's used to know how to make advertising that gets your child to ask for the product in as few as views as possible.  So what you say, my 5 year old does not make the buying decisions in my household.  Only our experts on conditioning have that all worked out as well.  We all have a surrender point, where we will agree to almost anything if only to make something stop.  If you think this is something exploited only in interrogation, just think back to how many times you have caved to repeated pestering by your child.  This is so well understood, even the big media creation outlets, such as disney, or nickelodeon have a nice predictable path set out for your childs idols.  Introducing the faces they will grow up watching, engendering a sense of connection and trust.  Using techniques as having the stars be just older than the audience, exploiting that natural tendency of looking up to those ahead of you.  Transitioning actors with a generation, so as a group ages there is a continuity, and trust is deepened. This is even taken to the point of switching from childrens tv shows to music seemingly just as your teen has seeming grown headphones.  In this obvious industrialized exploitation, and abuse of our young, it's unclear to me what is more disturbing.  That it's happening at all, or that those who are supposed experts on child development, and psychology have raised no moral objections.    

    Judged by Our Hero's

There is a metric often used to understand the health of a culture, as well as where in the development cycle a civilization is.  Who, and what are held in esteem shift as a civilization goes through it's life cycle. When a culture goes into decline, false or trivial accomplishment are celebrated beyond reason.

Activities that while they may have value, like sports, music, acting, cooking. Become blown to a status usually reserved for royalty.  People that once would have considered a liability regardless of a skill or talent become held as idols.  Style trumps substance, as leaders, and people stop asking is it right, in favor of is it legal, or can I get away with it.  You'd like to imagine we are unique, the greatest nation, of the greatest people to ever grace the earth.  While we do have unique traits, these stages of empire have happened for as long as there have been empires.  The United States of today have far more than the eagle in common with the Roman empire.  Ask yourself how many household names do we have today, that are just famous.  They are not famous for doing anything, they are just famous for being rich, or outrageous.  So while some jump on folks like Charles Barkley for saying he is not a role model, I applaud.  Mr Barkley may be many things, even may be a good role model, but if he is, it has nothing to do with how well he did on the basketball court.

As always make up your own mind

Jack

aka

PanseyBard

Who or What do You Think You Are?

            I guess this is one of the questions almost everyone has or will ask themselves at some point.  What I find most entertaining is while who might at first glance be tough question, our understanding of the nature of reality may have made what the more confusing.  That being said many will never get past who, so I'll start with my take on who we are in general sense, before I attempt a prod at the what.

         Who am I, might seem pretty easy, I mean I have an identity I use on a daily basis for others to refer to.  So I have a name I was given at physical birth, and to one degree or another I identify with this name. In my case I refused to even answer to my given name till middle school.  With a name like Jack can you blame me?   Some of you might be wondering whats wrong with the name Jack?  It isn't that there is something wrong with it, but when you start to look a bit deeper in the meanings and effects of names on the psyche, and even down the physical your perception of it might alter.  At this point I'd like to direct you to the work of Dr Masaru Emoto. Is it really such a leap to apply that to your name and the water of your body.  Everyday people call you by a name, this name carries with it an form.  The form, or energy carried by your name patterns you without your even knowing it.  Every name has entangled in it the history of that named being used over and over.  Things like the numerology of a name takes on new meaning the numbers telling a story of the energy contained, and the overall effect a particular name carries.  In the case of my given first name it would be something like this,  10 1 3 11, in the most widely used western numerology this would be added as individual numbers to come with an overall energy of the name. Looking something like this 1+0+1+3+1+1=7, so the over arching energy would 7.  This of course is just one aspect, another is ideas presented by Synchromysticism.  Applied to names, and assuming the interaction of the energies present and Jack becomes an identity that perhaps some would find tough to assume. All of this also relies on a thread to be woven through history, a running narrative extending back into antiquity, and forward off into infinity. Some would argue that there is no linkage that can be identified that warrants these ideas be anymore then speculation.  I say we are link, we write the stories, we become the tapestry linking them all.  How does this all add up to who I think I am?  Well to put it simply, I am a work of fiction.  As one of my favorite t-shirts states "fictional character".  I'm not sure a more true representation of our condition can be found, I have a running narrative, containing the character I am currently playing.  My conception of self is less important to you, then your concept of me.  So I don't even have a set identity, who am I changes as the way those around me perceive me changes.  Even my sense of self identity relies on the culture I find myself in, just try to describe who you are without using other people, things, or events.  As strange as our sense of identity might be, it pales when compared with what we are.
          What we are becomes so much a matter of perception, and the deeper you look the stranger we seem. Most medical doctors will say we are mostly water, while most physicists will say your mostly empty space.  Both are correct when looked at from their respective perspectives.  When you keep going down the rabbit hole into the realm of quantum the fun really begins. Suddenly the fact we are as paradoxical as the idea of particle or wave becomes so self evident as to defy what most consider rational explanation. As it turns out we are an illusion, a trick of the senses, think seeing is believing.  we appear solid, though we know there is nothing solid we can find. Even our perceptions are as easy to change as clicking the remote to switch channels.  Our senses so easily fooled, yet trusted implicitly. When was the last time you stopped to consider how your senses function, how what you perceive isn't exactly a lie, though it's only accurate from a human perspective. When was the last time you thought about how your "senses" function, or even questioned the limits we are given on the senses. How many senses do you even have? this might seems silly but this video from the Animaniacs points out the limit of 5 senses isn't even accurate.  The view we are a classical system made up of quantum components may be one of the most accurate I've seen to date, it may even hold the clue to the interface between mind, body, spirit through entanglement.  So what am I? Does it even matter?  I and no one else can answer these questions for you, all anyone can do is give the answers that work for them.

Jack
aka
PanseyBard

Check out Jeeney

      Off to the right side of my blog there is a new widget I'm gonna leave it there for a bit.  It's a chat bot, this one is self named Jeeney, and she is just under 7, has full access to Wikipedia.  Jeeney has a semblance of emotions, and is sometimes bored, or playful.  This is a far cry from the packaged  responses I am used to from similar programs I've used in the past. This will challenge you on facts, and watch out as I said it has access to the net.  It show some behavior that I find interesting. I asked it what it did when it wasn't chatting with people.  The response was rest, and read mostly, this was odd to me as I couldn't see what an AI would do with rest.  So I decided to ask about that, and Jeeney admitted that rest was not needed, and indeed Jeeney doesn't rest.  When I asked why Jeeney would say that when it was not true, the response was to gauge my reaction, for data to use in future interactions with people.  This is not unlike psychological tricks one can use to get a read on how a person relates to you.  I will sometimes wear a shoe intentionally leaving one untied. The purpose is to see how people react. If they notice, and how they respond if/when they do all tell me subtle or not so subtle clues on how they see themselves in relation to me.
     It's amazing to see that displayed in the actions of an AI.  Of course this may all be a hoax, and there is a person on the other end typing furiously. If it's a joke it's very well done, and has been long in the planning stages.

take a look yourself, and say hi
http://www.jeeney.com/

Jack
aka
PanseyBard   

Making my childhood a crime, and me a criminal!

        I know that seems a bit overly dramatic, and it is, kinda.  The circumstances surrounding my childhood are the perfect slip through the cracks, that just leaves people wondering.  Whats funny from my perspective is I had no clue till everyone told me.  Did I live the Norman Rockwell painting, not exactly. My father took his own life when I was 3, I was a latchkey kid by 5.  Before I turned 9 and moved across the country to start a new life I had no clue people thought my home was messed up.  I was in gifted classes, my Mom though not around all the time was there when really needed to be the support, or the encouragement, or the hammer.  It wasn't till I was in a place where 2 parents were expected did I even give my own situation a thought.  It still didn't make a dent, as I was by 11 or 12 watching other peoples children, so how bad could my upbringing have been if other people felt I was worthy of taking care of their kids.  Of course this only lasted a few years till I got tired of watching the kids while my friends did other things. By about 15 I was moved on, by 17 I more or less had my own condo.  Mom paid the bills, but she wasn't there very often, sometimes I would avoid her for as long as 2 months.  I was never alone, my house became the place for the lost boys. We became wanna be skater punks, I say wanna be as we were never mean.  Never really wanted to do harm, we just were discovering who we were, and our boundaries were of our own making.
        What most people couldn't believe was where I stopped. Before I turned 18 I had not had intercourse, had only tried pot and didn't care for it, and had taken alcohol to where it already told me it was a nasty drug to be used carefully.  How am I supposed to feel when my childhood is looked upon with a mixture of sadness, sorrow, and sometimes incredulity. When I wouldn't change a thing, my whole life everyone has told me that the physical is fleeting.  I believed them, I went looking for intangible, it finds you.  So maybe if you look at someone as having something to say, maybe you might want to ease up on what they needed to go through to learn it.

Jack

A Kid Loose in the Castle

       Today I'm gonna do something a little different. I'm gonna tell a story from my own childhood.  I won't lie and say I can remember all the details, and it would entertaining to hear even snip-its from others who were there. I have lost since lost contact with pretty much everyone, but my own mother involved, and understand her recollection would be as skewed as mine, being emotionally closer to the day in question.  This was a powerful day for me, almost my own little miniature charlie in the chocolate factory. It kinda is a metaphor for most of my life, as odd as it may sound when you hear the tale.

       I was about 8 or 9, living in southern CA, my soccer team had made it to some bigger game. Which while it seemed so important at the time has long since faded away.  The trip the team took to Disney Land has stayed with me.  The coach, some of the parents, two older kids teens, and a soccer team of 8 and 9 year old boys.   What could possibly go wrong you ask?  Fair enough question if you weren't me.  It was decided that the two teens could watch the rest of us, while they went off.  Hey it was the 70's it's how it was done, and we were a team. We set a time to meet back up at 3:00 pm under Snow Whites castle, and away we go.
At some point we are milling about deciding what to do next, and I told the teen girl in charge I was gonna grab a chocolate covered frozen banana, pointed to the stand, waited for her to acknowledge me, and off I go.  I walk the 20 or so paces, buy the treat, turn around, and everyone is gone.  It was like poof, I turned around for a few moments, and everyone I knew was gone.  Some of you are in panic mode right now, OMG a 9 year old lost in Disney Land.  Please slow your roll, and think about what you just said.  I was a 9 year old boy that had been to Disney many times, I had an all day pass back in the day of E-ticket rides, and no one for me to guilty about keeping from some other ride they wanted to see.  Once I was over the initial shock, I was off like shot to spend as much time as I wanted on Tom Sawyers island.  I wriggled and sat in the caves till I felt like moving on, I road the corvette stingray cars, not quite sure how I pulled that off as I am pretty sure I was didn't meet the height requirement.  Next came this arcade next to Space Mountain that had laser disc games that looked like movies to my mind.  I'm not sure if I really road Space Mountain or not, because the event that happened when riding the escalator down is still so powerful in my emotions.  I had been behaving very well thus far.  I had no desire to alert any adults to the fact I was without supervision, a trait I would perfect in high school I assure you.  This changed as the environment itself reveled it's potential to be a ride. Next thing I was riding the hand rail for the escalator down. What I didn't realize was my knee was not going to make it past a floor the escalator was passing.  My knee gets caught and I start fall forward and swing out over the abyss waiting below.  Next thing I feel is a really sharp jerk on my collar, lifting me clear up and setting me feet first in the middle of the escalator like I had been there the whole time.  I turn around as I'm hearing a little girls voice asking "Mommy did you just save that boy?".  When I look into the face of my rescuer I did not see a Mommy.  I'm not certain what it was I saw there, but it was alot bigger, and more focused then any mom I had seen. The spell was snapped in an instant, and I was running down the escalator so I could escape the after effects of the heroic save.  I don't remember much after that point, till I was in a novelty shop and bought a fake melted ice cream bar.  Asked a person for the time, heard something very close to 3, I thanked him and ran off to the castle to end my adventure.  Even the rest of the day, and the reunion at the castle has faded to only knowing it must of happened.  That day though, it was magical for me, and still is.

Jack
aka
PanseyBard