Recently, the C.I.A. (yes, THAT C.I.A.) began running commercials on radio actively recruiting new hires to the Clandestine Services Division. If that weren’t odd enough in itself, the spot ends with the pronouncement that the C.I.A. is “an equal opportunity employer.” I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want regarding personnel tasked with covertly gathering intelligence used to protect this nation and its citizens is for them to be the product of equal opportunity employment standards. Surely the government MUST be joking. I want our spooks to be UN-equal in the extreme.
No Ranting Here…
“It is the true priest who eschews a lifetime of worship for a few moments with the Sky.”
-Flying Red Horse, 2012
A Continued Observance…
So, now we learn in recent news reports (as of the first week of December, 2011) that there is a surplus of gasoline here in the good ol’ US of A. And we have excess refining capacity. So much so that we are now exporting gasoline to places like Brazil and Argentina. The average price of a gallon of gas here at home is still well over $3 per gallon and we’re shipping the stuff overseas. It becomes harder and harder to buy the line that current high costs are the result of supply and demand market forces or that it all comes down to the political uncertainty in many of the oil producing Middle Eastern countries.
I’m beginning to come around to the position that we’re getting nailed to the wall just because those swinging the hammer know that they can do it.
-Link to story at the Syracuse Post-Standard web site-
-Link to story at the United Press International (UPI) web site-
-Link to story at FoxNews.com web site-
-Link to story at CNN/Money web site-
An Observation
Your reality is daily fabricated and directed by those who will avail themselves of every opportunity to do just that. Think about it: how happy would you be right now if you discovered a filling station near your home where you could buy gasoline for $2.50 per gallon? Would you think this is great or would you recognize that this is insane!?
An Observation
Since it is not possible to breed into the population the traits most desired of a good consumer, these traits must be taught and continually reinforced.
Number Eighteen
- Britt Reid, 1936-2011 R.I.P. -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
This cowboy always finds it sad when a person of eminence and great character passes away. Such is the case with the recent death of Britt Reid, age 75. Perhaps you recognize the name, for Mr. Reid was also known by some to possess an alter ego, that of The Green Hornet. While Reid was a well-respected newspaper publisher and dashing man-about-town, The Green Hornet was a misunderstood soul, one viewed by the uninformed as a villain and master criminal. In fact, The Hornet and his loyal aide Kato chose willingly to masquerade as malefactors in order to fight crime, not commit it. But now, Britt Reid is dead. The Green Hornet is dead.
Seth Rogen murdered The Green Hornet.
Though The Green Hornet first appeared in the 1930s as a radio serial, the character is best remembered (and beloved) from the short-lived television series broadcast in the late 1960s. The TV series was produced by the group that gave life to the über-campy Batman show during the same era. Considering the source of its genome and the prevalence of other exceedingly silly shows during the time (think The Beverly Hillbillies, Green Acres, and Gilligan’s Island), The Green Hornet was presented as a more or less straight ahead action-adventure show and was, on the whole, surprisingly free of much of the silliness that well could have colored the effort. The actor cast in the dual role of Britt Reid/The Green Hornet was Van Williams. His portrayal of both characters was understated and he physically looked the part. But there could have been no Green Hornet without Kato. Kato was played by none other than the (arguably) greatest martial arts master of all time, Bruce Lee. Both character and actor served to support the lead character specifically and the show in general. But then, this obituary is not for Kato, it’s for Britt Reid.
Seth Rogen murdered The Green Hornet.
The trailer for the recently released feature film The Green Hornet debuted on iTunes in July of 2010. Watching it for the first time I found myself feeling . . . ambivalence. What I saw excited me, but I also found myself concerned by much of what I saw. Seth Rogen and Jay Chou, the actors cast as Reid and Kato respectively, were no Van Williams and Bruce Lee. I found myself thinking back to the 1980s when I first heard that actor Michael Keaton had been hired to play Bruce Wayne in the first of the big-budget Batman films. At the time I felt that, based on Mr. Keaton’s previous comedic roles, this was bad casting for what would likely be an equally bad movie. As it turned out, I was wrong on both counts. That being the case, I decided to give Mr. Rogen and crew the benefit of the doubt and pass judgment after watching the entire film.
(Note to self: don’t be so quick to doubt your intuition that something may well suck.)
Seth Rogen murdered The Green Hornet.
Why am I so liberal in my assertion that Mr. Rogen is a murderer? The blood on his hands is twofold in origin. First is the fact that, for some reason, Rogen (with his longtime associate Evan Goldberg) was given the responsibility of writing the script for this travesty. Rather than taking the opportunity to make an engaging update, these two cobbled together what might as well be a 119 minute tutorial in how to vandalize a durable (if not classic) piece of television Americana. Secondly, Mr. Rogen in his role as the lead actor takes the Britt Reid of old and turns him into something, save for the green mask and fedora, almost unrecognizable. Rogen effortlessly transforms the previously refined Britt Reid into a boorish, arrogant, cowardly, lecherous, self-serving, bullying, egomaniacal asshole. I found myself sitting there expecting, even hoping, for the character to experience some sort of awakening that might lead to redemption by the time the final credits rolled, a hope that was never to be realized. *Sigh* When the most endearing character in the film turns out to be the Green Hornet’s car (the totally badass Black Beauty- cool in the TV series AND cool in the movie), you know things have gone horribly, horribly wrong.
The only positive thing I have to say about the feature film is that it is esthetically nice to look at. There was some interesting camera work and the fight scenes featuring Kato, though not of Bruce Lee quality, were nicely choreographed and executed and featured some tasty digital effects. The film is being exhibited in traditional 2-D as well as 3-D formats, but the 3-D seems to have been little more than a jumping-on-the-Avatar-bandwagon and even then as only an afterthought. The lone noteworthy 3-D effect in the entire movie is a pair of flying beer bottle caps. What a waste.
Lest this necrology appear to be just the pining for days gone by of a man in his middle age relying on the faulty memories of his long-ago childhood, I had the opportunity to watch most of the Green Hornet marathon that was broadcast on the Syfy Network a few days before the wide-release of the film. The Britt Reid of old, the REAL Green Hornet, truly was COOL.
Dear Goddess, please save us from the inevitable Green Hornet II.
Seth Rogen murdered The Green Hornet. May The Hornet rest in peace.
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2011
Conspiracy Theory
To the casual observer it might appear that I am a subscriber to any number of conspiracy theories. The only conspiracy I have ever encountered is the Conspiracy of the Ignorant and the Willing. The powerbrokers have only the authority they are given. And I find it frightening the degree of authority that the conspiring masses willingly invest in these cads.
(Taken from the author’s book DIRTY LITTLE GODS: THE MUSINGS, RANTS, AND RAVINGS OF A HERETIC published by Enright House Press, 2004.)
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2004-2010
An Observation
Imperfection is highly profitable. There is very little money to be made in perfection.
Do you understand the full implication of the above two statements?
Number Seventeen
- Things That Piss Me Off -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
It was my intention this month to write a column worthy of the arriving Autumn, a lighthearted allegory, something one or two steps removed from my typical Heretic’s musings about the metaphysics of existence. As Lady Fortuna would have it, I succeeded quite well in straying from the ethereal but not in the way originally intended. The results of my efforts are to be found in that which follows, a coarse and singularly inelegant polemic quite distant from anything that could be accurately described as “lighthearted.” Normally, fair reader, I might beg your indulgence for such an unbecoming and uncharacteristic exhibition of personal rancor but, the point is, I really don’t give a frak.
Which leads me to the first thing that pisses me off. To those dimwitted denizens of the world’s soft white underbelly who feel that they have some Goddess-given right to never be offended, I say, blow it out your oh-so-hypersensitive bunghole! You have no such right, real or imagined, constitutional or otherwise. In the first place, the greater portion of what you find offensive is likely due to your own erroneous perception and perspective. Squealing like a piglet at the slightest affront to one’s tender sensibilities serves only to distract when something of actual significance requires attention. Think the boy who cried “wolf.” If another’s thoughtless, heartless, malicious, careless, needless, or humorous (even) methods and/or means of expression aren’t libelous or slanderous to you directly and don’t violate your REAL rights to your life, liberty, or property, then man-up, for cryin’ out loud! If you be female and subject to bouts of such abject nincompoopery, all the more shame on you! I was taught that the “fairer” sex was always, in reality, the stronger of the two. Lead by example, sisters!
It pisses me off that, because a minority of knuckle-dragging goons stuck in the 12th century see fit to impose a dysmorphic Dark Ages view of their preferred religion on the rest of the world by means of the bullet and the bomb, I am required to run a veritable gauntlet of idiocy just to gain access to the passenger cabin of even the tiniest commercial airliner. I am now expected to remove my cowboy hat and take off my boots, empty my pockets of any potentially questionable items, take my laptop out of its carry case, then place everything not attached to my person in separate bins to pass though an x-ray and sniffer machine before I am ordered to march stocking-footed through the upright metal detector that inevitably sounds a loud klaxon at my passing. Should I make it through the TSA gendarmes without being flagged for further (and even more invasive) probing, I can pull on my boots and collect my things while being treated to the sight of an 85 year old wheelchair-bound grandmother from Sheboygan or perhaps a diaper-clad infant in his mother’s arms being subjected to intense scrutiny because we “don’t want to be accused of profiling.” A security mindset that focuses on searching for weapons instead of identifying potential terrorists is an insane and impotent policy created by bureaucratic minds capable of thinking no deeper than zero-tolerance polices and voluminous regulations.
While I’m at it, I’m pissed off that, in a nation founded on individualism and the desire to succeed or fail on one’s own merits, I look around me and see government encroaching into all areas of my life and expanding each and every day. Privacy is fast becoming a relic of some bygone era. Rather than promoting greater liberty and personal responsibility, the Republi-crats see fit to tax beyond reason, spend without prudence, and consider only that which is necessary to maintain their death-grip on power until the next election cycle. And the sheep willingly return these cads and thieves to their ivory towers and petition their feudal masters to take care of their every need. The only thing the mandarins ask in return for granting an illusion of security is a willingness to part with just a little more freedom. It should be remembered that freedom willingly abdicated is freedom lost in perpetuity. Fiction becomes fact, dreams transmogrify into nightmares. Good lord, I’m seeing 1984, Animal Farm, Brave New World, and Atlas Shrugged all coming to life in front of my eyes…
Paying $55 dollars to fill up the gas tank which not that many years ago cost a scant $15 to fill REALLY pisses me off, especially since the amount of money I earn has increased at nowhere near the same rate during the same time frame. I am equally enraged with the monoliths in Detroit that squawk about their inability to create truly energy efficient vehicles at affordable prices. “It can’t be done,” they say, yet a 40 year old seventh grade dropout living and working in Wichita, Kansas can (and does) modify Hummers (frakkin’ HUMMERS!) to get 60 MILES TO THE GALLON! (This is not some unverifiable urban legend I am repeating here. Check out http://www.fastcompany.com/magazine/120/motorhead-messiah.html or do a Google search on “Johnathan Goodwin” to learn more.)
Enough, enough! I find it disheartening that I could with no effort continue my meandering tirade with an unabated fervor and no dearth of subjects about which to grouse. My spirit is taxed and my will bruised. Somebody fetch me an Italian cappuccino before I kvetch again…
Flying Red Horse
(C)2008-2010
An Observation
Recently, while pondering things religious, it occured to me that I have never once been lied to by a leaf.
Poetry From A Heretic
Our lives are a collected series of moments, snapshots of an infinitesimally small portion of Space, Time, and Being. The Thus-ness of it all is, for most, lost in the Ignorance Of The Moment. For some, as they travel the narrow and winding stream of their existence, they have learned to see and experience their Slices Of Now with a greater Clarity and a broader Perspective on the Fields Of Reality and Possibility.
Fortunate?- Gifted?- Lucky?- Determined?- Destined?- There are those who know an Appreciation for Life, who recognize a greater Beauty is there for the apprehension, and that Balance and Harmony can be Chosen in all situations and circumstances. To move in Fullness, to taste more of what is there to be tasted, to Recognize and Accept that there is always More than we can or will ever know, and to willingly do all these things from the Still Point of Harmony, Peace, Beauty, and Balance- this is something like Enlightenment, something like Freedom.
Seek not the enlightened, for theirs is not yours. Seek Enlightenment and smile when it finds you.
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2010
Three Little Gems
“Nature abhors a vacuum. If you want to make changes in your life, if you want to be done with limiting habits, you cannot simply stop doing them and expect that they won’t come back. You absolutely, positively must replace limiting beliefs and behaviors with those that will bring you in alignment with your goals.”
“Our present is the sum total of our past, but our future does not have to be the sum total of today’s past. We can alter the future because the present is the future’s past; we can take positive action now and tomorrow that we didn’t yesterday.”
“Those who, in an effort to be spiritual, concentrate only on spirit, are not spiritual at all.”
(This column is taken from the author’s book DIRTY LITTLE GODS: THE MUSINGS, RANTS, AND RAVINGS OF A HERETIC published by Enright House Press, 2004.)
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2004-2010
Number Sixteen
- The Mystical Unconscious -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
My work as a consulting hypnotherapist has provided me ample opportunity for firsthand observation of the truly awesome power of the unconscious mind. Many feel their greatest potential rests in their will, mental process or conscious mind. Nothing could be more completely removed from reality. While the mechanics of a fully functioning rational consciousness and sheer determination are, without question, force multipliers in the intricate schema of life, it is the unconscious (or as some refer to it, the subconscious) wherein resides the great measure of a person.
How many times have you vowed to break an unhealthy habit or to create a new positive one yet, in a comically brief span of time, found all your good intentions have come to naught? On the hand opposing, have you not also experienced changes that were not only ridiculously easy to implement, seeming to require “no effort at all,” that abide to this day? So what was different? In both instances you were the same person with the same determination, the same will. You knew what you wanted and possessed at least a basic idea of how to achieve it. Though perhaps an ipse dixit assertion, I shall nonetheless hypothesize that the difference lay in the fountainhead of each discrete event. The failed attempt to change likely originated and was implemented solely by the conscious mind, while the successful deed, the “effortless” endeavor if you will, came to fruition in and through the fertile fields of the unconscious prior to its realization in the realm of the physical.
What, then, is the unconscious mind? To fully quantify and qualify the unconscious is, at least for now, an impossibility. But, just as you are not required to know and understand the intricate workings of an internal combustion engine in order to pilot a car from point A to point B, there is no necessity that the blueprint of this most nebulous aspect of Self be understood to gain benefit from the considered and conscious application of its strengths.
The unconscious mind is the place of dreams. It is the locus of unfettered creativity, a portal to other dimensions, the storehouse of memory, and the land where all is possible. The unconscious is the realm of the mystical.
It is his unconscious mind which dictates whether a young man will persevere through BUDs and its periculum of Hell Week to eventually become a U.S. Navy SEAL Team member. It is your unconscious mind which will determine success or failure in your worldly ventures. It is your unconscious which will help you to find lost objects or to create works of beauty. And, if taken for granted, it is your unconscious mind which will likely be the bedrock of your ruination.
Some might feel that the unconscious mind is, by its very nature, beyond their control and, therefore, they are subject to its every whim. This is the mindset of a victim. You are responsible for your unconscious, whether it supports your conscious efforts or impedes them. The unconscious can be fancied a voluminous repository for any and every thing and thought and affirmation or denial your conscious mind cares to deposit there. Think carefully for each thought carries with it great power to help or to hinder.
The unconscious mind is a soldier of attrition.
Navigating the mostly uncharted waters of our unconscious mind can be a harrowing experience. Thinking about thinking is something the average person would rather not think about! But communicating directly with the unconscious, as in hypnosis, can change a lifelong smoker into a nonsmoker, help a poor student become a good student, and manage chronic pain without medication; these are but a few examples.
The wealthy expect to continue in wealth while, correspondingly, the poor are certain they will persist in their poverty. The martial artist expects to break the board or the cinder block while you…well, what is it that YOU expect? Expectation that is grounded in the reality of the unconscious and catalyzed by strong emotion can be life-changing.
The topic at hand is far too vast to give it due justice in this very limited space. A good place to start? Try reading THE POWER OF YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS MIND by Joseph Murphy.
Change your unconscious mind and you will, without a doubt, change your world.
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2008-2010
Number Fifteen
- Neither Do They Spin -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
++++++++++++++++++++
I am certain you know one, probably more than one, in fact- those souls who walk through life, head held high, eager to demonstrate to anyone within close proximity the purity and steadfast conviction of their belief that all is in Divine Order and their unwavering confidence that Spirit will provide, always and inevitably. Whether fundamentalist Christian or new age adherent to the Law of Attraction, all that is required is “the faith of a mustard seed” and the willingness to stoke the fires of certainty which will guarantee all manner of bounty and good favor.
*COUGH*
The mantra “Spirit will provide” falls incessantly from the lips of those who seem to view the Creative Energy of the universe as some one-stop welfare shop which is all too willing to supply our every need if only we will display the proper amount of faith mixed with copious quantities of 101 octane positive mental attitude. “All I have to do is believe. . .”
*COUGH*
This line of thinking must surely have as its fountainhead a few lines found in the Christian New Testament:
“Take no thought for your life, what you’ll eat or what you’ll drink; nor for your body, or what you’ll wear. Look at the birds: they don’t sow, they don’t reap, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much better than they? And why worry about your clothes? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin. And yet even King Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Don’t worry saying, What will I eat? or, What will I drink? or, What will I wear? Your heavenly Father knows you have need of all these things. Don’t worry about tomorrow: for tomorrow will take care of itself.”
Nowhere in the above quote is there even a hint that there might be something expected on the part of the reader to help secure the food or the drink or the clothing. In fact, it seems quite apparent that the Big Guy Upstairs is going to take care of everything! All I have to do is sit back and wait faithfully for him to take care of it all! That’s it; all that is required is faith. I’ll just sit here and polish up my positive mental attitude and wait for Federal Express to drop off my weekly sustenance care package. Oh, by the way God, while you’re at it, could you stick a winning lottery ticket in amongst the loaves and fishes?
This Heretic can think of few things more flaccid and nugatory than a positive mental attitude detached from action. Belief without exertion is, at best, shortsighted folly and, at its worst, dangerous. Those who cling tenaciously to the position that the wealth of the universe (be that wealth spiritual or material) is only as far away as our focus of belief in that position are deluded. Is this blinders-on conviction or ignorance or just plain laziness? Methinks it may well be comparable measures of each. To state it bluntly, those who point to the biblical exhortation that the flowers and the birds toil not and hold this passage up as the basis for their position of sitting and passively awaiting their portion are fools.
Those deceptively idle flowers extend their roots deep into the soil and actively draw nourishment from therein. Except when very young, birds forage to meet their needs, be it a mate, food for their belly, or materials for a nest. Should either flora or fauna wait around for Spirit, they die.
Then there are those who take the more reasonable approach that we are co-creators with Spirit. This position assigns at least a portion of the responsibility for attainment on oneself. These are the folks who say you have to meet Spirit halfway. Well what happens if Spirit has more important things to do that day? You’re stuck only halfway to your goal. How about this: you’ve proven that you have the wherewithal to get to the halfway point; why not go all the way and just give Spirit the day off?
If there truly IS co-creation, Spirit’s part is and can only be to inspire us to action. As proof of this assertion I offer the verity that both words, Spirit and inspire, have the same root word, “spirare,” which means “breath” or “breathe.” Spirit may well breathe the inspiration into you. It’s up to you, however, to act on that inspiration, not sit there like a hatchling with your pie-hole agape demanding to be fed.
Think of it this way- no matter how he might hope and believe and pray otherwise, an architect’s blueprints do not spring to life and magically give substance to the construct the ink lines on the paper represent. Confidence in the possibilities inherent in Life is analogous to the blueprints. If you want those possibilities to be made manifest it is YOU who must do the manifesting through efficacious deeds.
Either way, don’t credit or blame Spirit; credit or blame yourself. Get up off your backside and do something!
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2008-2009
Number Fourteen
- To See -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
Oh, if only I could see…
Is there something wrong with my eyes? Am I blind? No. A doctor would tell me that my eyes are perfect. (Well, okay…maybe not perfect, but there’s nothing wrong a pair of eyeglasses couldn’t remedy.) Nevertheless I still do not see that which I look at. There is no obstruction, yet I cannot see. There is no neural malady, yet I remain sightless.
I raise a hand before my face. Bone covered by meat and sinew and skin. Blood brings forth liquid life, the pulse quickens in my veins. Muscles contract, tendons respond. There is movement. Shadows, the color of the flesh, nails at finger’s end. I want to see my hand, dammit!
This thing we call sight, what is it really? Colors and shapes and movement all register in my eyes. There is focus. There is comprehension. I am told that this is sight. Though the organism is sound and there is a perception of colors and shapes and movement and focus and comprehension I CANNOT SEE WHAT I LOOK AT!! Do not lie and say the hand is seen! Do you lie or is it…is it that you do not know? I am not the only one. Do you think that you have truly seen anything you have ever looked at? You have not, my friend, you have not…
Are my words the babbling of one cut loose of reality? No, my words speak of things as they are. You have never seen grass. You have never seen stone. You have never seen water. You have never in your life seen your own hand.
I challenge you: Before you go to bed tonight look at your hand under a light. See its form, note its function as you flex your fingers. See the lines and the hairs and the nails. Once you are convinced that I truly am mad, turn off the light and look at your hand in the darkness of night. You cannot see your hand, you cannot see anything, for the light is gone. The only thing you have ever seen when you looked at your hand is the light reflected by your hand. The only thing you have ever seen with your eyes in your life is light and its reflection.
What does a hand really look like? What does anything really look like? If we are so mistaken about our sight, under what other misconceptions do we labor? What else do we believe we know that we do not know? I wish to see things as they are, not just their reflection…
(This column is taken from the author’s book DIRTY LITTLE GODS: THE MUSINGS, RANTS, AND RAVINGS OF A HERETIC published by Enright House Press, 2004.)
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2004-2009
Number Thirteen
- Best Case Scenario -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
Not so long ago your humble scribe penned a most insightful tome entitled “The High Cost Of Living.” An astute and prepossessing piece, I labored through its composition to express with eloquence the weight of our every action and their attendant consequences. I wish now to revisit the same subject matter, but this time from a slightly different perspective. (Accuse me of repeating myself if you must; it is a charge I shall in no wise repudiate. Yes, the topic is THAT important to me.)
Barring a total governmental usurpation of this nation’s private healthcare system, one might, with modern preventative medical care, deliberate nutrition, sufficient exercise, and efficacious stress release, expect to easily live to the age of 100 and even beyond. (This is not at all an unreasonable assertion. There are great sages of the past who have proffered that the human body is by design constructed to live a minimum of 135 years, but that is another topic for another time.) Rather than surrendering to the storms of life, there are those who will not only fight for every breath, every moment, but who will endeavor to fill those moments with thoughts and experiences and actions that make life worth the living. Which brings us to a point (or two) well worth pondering.
Thinking solely in terms of quantity rather than quality, and taking into account the averment made in the preceding paragraph, best case scenario: how long will you be alive? If, as you read this, you find you have reached the quarter-century mark and, for the sake of our discussion, you accept that the ripe old age of 100 is, in fact, within the realm of achievement, then basic mathematics dictates you have roughly 75 years of life remaining in the here-and-now. Not that bad, I suppose. There are some who have never made it even close to the 75 years you hypothetically have left.
Now, let us bring forward for consideration a second best case scenario: how long will you be dead? Arguments of reincarnation put aside, it would not be unreasonable to proffer an answer for this second question to accurately be “forever.” Comparing and contrasting the duration of best case scenario One with that of best case scenario Two, would it not be prudent to get as much out of scenario One as is humanly possible prior to entering scenario Two?
Returning to the 75 year figure mentioned above (for you more seasoned folks reading this, the following should carry an even greater weight), I should remind you that there are no guarantees. Sure, you MIGHT have 75 years left or 65 years or 50 years or 25 years, all, of course, depending on your current chronological situation, general health, and all the other previously mentioned factors. Or you might suffer the misfortune several weeks from now of expiring as the result of injuries sustained from being trampled by a stampeding herd of flash-mobbing teenagers. Or you might be the victim of an undiagnosed cardiac malady and drop dead of heart failure before you finish reading this sentence. So I ask once again, best case scenario, how long will you live? Best case scenario, how long will you be dead?
In the overarching architecture of it all, even 100 years is less than the most fleeting moment when juxtaposed against Eternity. If, in death, the best case scenario that can be hoped for is, at the very least, everlasting, should this not give one pause to design and experience a life as devoid of pain and sorrow as possible? One characterized by a vital existence, challenging, engaging, fulfilling and, above all, overflowing in Beauty?
Reject a willing servitude and find that which makes your Heart sing. Cause no harm and do what you will. Love the Mother Earth and all Her children. Become more than you feel you are, more than you think you can be. When presented with a choice between life affirming and life negating, choose that which will amplify most your Great Desire.
There are those nihilists who will say, when presented with some conundrum or other, 100 years from now it won’t matter anyway. I say, 100 years from now, what I do in this moment or the next or the next will be of the gravest importance. The best case scenario allows for nothing else.
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C) 2008-2009
Number Twelve
- Scandal And The Body Politic -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
As old as government itself, scandals continue to intrigue, entertain, and disgust the casual and dedicated observer alike within the body politic. From the carnal and fiscal excesses of Caligula Caesar’s Rome to the multitudinous indiscretions of the Clinton White House, few, if any, generations go untouched by the fetid hand of political scandal.
A detailed review of specific scandals is, for the purpose of this essay, unnecessary. The heart of the issue at hand is the nature of political scandal, its causes and, hopefully, its cure.
What is it that makes for a good scandal? Treachery? Deceit? Sex? Any of these and more will do the trick. What is it that makes this type of activity more important, more meaningful in a politician than if the same set of circumstances occurred in the life of Joe Sixpack, a plumber living in Boise, Idaho? Whereas the aforementioned Mr. Sixpack might have to endure the tongue wagging of the locals because he listed several questionable exemptions on his federal income tax return, it seldom bears any resemblance to the volleys launched at a Boise city councilman guilty of the same charge.
Scandals generate various levels of interest in the public, providing ammunition for water cooler philosophers and a place of moral high ground for the average person, knowing that, “it’s okay if I make mistakes, heck…everybody does, even those in authority are, after all, only human.” What characterizes and defines the pertinence of questionable action in a politician (or any so-called leader, for that matter) is the fact that, right or wrong, leaders are held to a higher standard.
Do I advocate the lowering of ethical and moral standards for those in positions of power? Absolutely not! If anything, standards should be even higher than they are now, not only for politicians, but for the public in general. Let’s face it: something has got to change! Let me also make clear that I in no way support the legislation of morality or ethics beyond the basic Constitutional rights of the individual to life, liberty, and the ownership of property. In all arenas, political, social, and spiritual, the cream will always rise to the top if there are no artificial hindrances to achievement and no rewards for mediocrity. Back to the issue at hand: if standards are raised as I propose, won’t this just exacerbate the problem of public trust, making it even more difficult to find men and women capable and willing to perform public service? Won’t the painfully apparent lack of qualified candidates just serve to further numb the electorate’s senses and increase the lack of faith in the efficacy of the system and its overseers? If all other things remain the same then, yes, this modification of standards would be of no benefit. What I propose, however, is a far more subtle and far more insidious to the status quo.
For the sake of argument, let us not raise the standard by which we judge our leaders. (Admittedly, these “standards” of which I speak are nebulous at best.) If current standards remain the same, what other course of action can be taken to simultaneously increase the trust in government and its operating efficiency, consequently reducing the impact of any activity that could be classified as scandalous?
Ultimately, the problem is not in the standard to which a bureaucrat or elected official is held. The root of the problem lies in the amount of authority, the amount of supervisory power with which we invest these officials. We ask, no, demand things of our government that as recently as 50 years ago were unheard of. What we have forgotten is that, in a Constitutional Republic (contrary to popular belief, the United States of America is not now, nor was it ever intended to be a democracy), the brunt of the responsibility for the governing of day to day life rests squarely on the shoulders of the individuals that comprise said Republic. To delegate personal authority to someone or something else is to emasculate the intent of a government by the people and for the people, setting up a system that requires nothing less than canonized saints to oversee it. Considering the responsibilities placed on any elected government big shot, a person would need to possess the strength of Superman, the stamina of a triathlete and the moral fiber of Moses himself to be worthy of the duties with which they are charged. Reduce the level of responsibility placed on Congressman X and effectively reduce the impact to which any indiscretion on his part affects the lives of those around him. The only problem with this approach to government lies in the restructuring of the power base; if the responsibility is to be removed from the leaders, then where will the slack be taken up? It has to return to where it originally belonged: to the individual members of our society. Sadly, very few are desirous of the acceptance of any personal responsibility. Therein lies the conundrum: Those with power do not wish to relinquish it, while those who have surrendered power do not wish to reclaim it.
The bestowing of almost limitless power upon our leaders, be they elected, bureaucratic, or clergy, is a proven recipe for disaster. Power abdicated is power lost in perpetuity. The significance and impact of scandalized leaders can only be reduced by lessening the significance and impact of the power these leaders hold. This can only be achieved through a conscious choice of the electorate to repossess its own power and assume responsibility for its own destiny.
Yeah. That’ll happen.
(This column is taken from the author’s book DIRTY LITTLE GODS: THE MUSINGS, RANTS, AND RAVINGS OF A HERETIC published by Enright House Press, 2004.)
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2004-2009
Number Eleven
- The High Cost Of Living -
(This column was originally published in January of 2008)
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
The new year bears down upon us. It is a time to swear penance for that extra 10 pounds we added to our already stressed frames over the holidays, a time to review the year that has passed and to look forward to all the positive changes we intend to initiate in the coming 12 months. Should we be brutally honest with ourselves, though (a skill so few seem to possess in this day and age), we might find that the resolutions we are now confidently pledging to discharge are not unlike those we vowed to keep at this same time last year. Well, I suppose there is something to be said for consistency . . .
In a few weeks we will begin to receive the W-2 forms that allow us to accurately calculate the amount of tax we owe our feudal masters and, come late January, the mailman will deliver to us the stacks of credit card bills which are evidence certain of December’s feckless orgy of conspicuous consumption. You had promised to curtail your spending, to buy fewer things for fewer people. You may even have succeeded in doing just that. But them prices, they are a risin’. Witness the automobile that not so very long ago required a mere $17 in gasoline which now demands $50 to see the little indicator needle hover near the FULL side of the gauge. That which once was is no more.
There is one area, however, where the prices never rise and never fall, but where the cost has always been consistently the highest that can be paid. In this province it is not possible to negotiate better terms, more favorable rates, or to in any way defer payment.
Everything you do in your life costs you something. Each thought, each action, each emotion, each failure or success, all of them draw from an account that is irrevocably finite and subject to sudden catastrophic ruin. The coin of the realm of which I speak is binary in its constitution, one half being constrained at all times by a factor of 24, while the other is a bit more protean in its capacity to wax or wane. I speak of your Time and your Life-Force Energy.
You, like every person who has ever lived, are limited to but 24 hours in a day. In this aspect, we truly are equal, everyone. The visionary and the vagrant, the mystic and the madman, all are bound by the same limitations of temporal fetters. How is it that you spend your Time? Are you aware that every second of your life that has passed is a second you will never EVER have again? How much of this most precious and limited asset has slipped unnoticed through your fingers as you sat idling in traffic, suffered through yet another pointless business meeting, or engaged in some meaningless activity that did absolutely nothing to feed your soul? Time is the one resource of which you have only so much and you can never know just how much it is that you will have. How many more days can you claim with any certainty are at your disposal?
Every activity you undertake requires of you Time; just how much is your Time worth to you?
If Time is the “when” of human existence, then Life-Force Energy is the “how.” This antipodal face of the two-sided coin is the energy that motivates you, that quickens you, that sustains you, that IS you.
As with Time, a portion of your Life-Force is demanded against all that you do. Whether an intentional expression of Beauty or a thoughtless act of anger, your personal account will be debited immediately and without consideration. Depending on the act, you may pay up front and only once, or you may find yourself making installments for years to come.
Fortunately, and quite unlike Time, your Life-Force can be replenished, not only in quantity, but in quality, as well. You can increase the level of your “funding” by taking care to consume only healthy food and drink, avoiding ingestion of substances that can damage the body and mind, exercising, resting, meditating, praying, by divesting yourself of as much negativity as possible and by developing a mindfulness for and about the way you live your life. Paradoxically, the more you engage in conscious acts that bring joy to your soul, the more likely is your store of this energy to accrue rather than diminish.
Learn how not to give away needlessly your energy to others and do not permit people or circumstances to drain it from you. Don’t pay more than you must and don’t squander what you have. Use wisely your resources and learn to invest rather than spend.
It is your responsibility to determine if what you are doing at any given moment is worth the incredible cost demanded of you. When you tally the price you must always be willing to ask yourself, “Is this really how I wish to spend my life?”
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C) 2008-2009
Number Ten
- Death Of An Imaginary Friend -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
++++++++++++++++++++
The beer was cold against my lips. I sat there looking out over a particularly sunny landscape and, raising a toast to a passing cloud, took another draw from the bottle. You see, I was celebrating . . . celebrating my first murder.
My victim? Nobody you would know. But then again, maybe you DO know this guy. He and his ilk are nothing if not ubiquitous.
The weird thing is, there was a period when I considered this guy to be my best friend. You would have been hard pressed to find two closer companions anywhere. For the longest time, if you saw me you could be certain that he was always close by. We were, in fact, inseparable. It was the dawning realization a few years back that my identity, my very sense of self, was wrapped up in my relationship to this guy that caused me to question if that relationship was really healthy and in my best interest.
When I first brought up my concerns, he just laughed them off. Quite the joker, he was. But I persisted and when I refused to be dissuaded, he acted as though his feelings had been hurt. When this little ploy didn’t have the desired effect of making me recant, well, then . . . that’s when he got nasty. I was told in no uncertain terms that I needed him, that I was nothing without him, that I just couldn’t handle things on my own. After a while, he softened a bit, reminding me that for years he had protected me, looked out for me, cared for me. He said he was only doing what was best for me and that I should be grateful.
I hate to admit it but, at first, I thought that he might be right, maybe I DID need him. I recognized that, after so many years together, I really had come to depend on him for far more than I should have. Could I do okay on my own? Did I even know how? I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I had my doubts.
I moped around for a few days, questioning my judgment and my commitment to break free all the while. He could tell that I was still struggling with the whole thing and did his best to pacify my doubts. Strokes to my ego followed apologies and other various attempts to distract. Something told me, though, that this was about nothing more than the preservation of the status quo and his own preeminence in my life. His coddling gradually changed to coercion, then became threats. I recognized with painful finality that there was something very wrong and that, if anything was to be done, I was the one that would have to do it.
I knew he had no interest in changing the state of things but I refused to let that stop me. I sought out counseling but, with me being the only willing participant, it wasn’t at all effective. I was the one that wanted change, not him. I knew that the longer I permitted him to remain in my life, the more I was giving away my power. This had to stop.
I tried to walk away, but he refused to leave me alone. No matter where I went, he followed. The more I tried to be done with him, the more determined was his pursuit. My entreaties for him to just leave fell on deaf ears. Pretty soon I found myself drowning in my emotions. Fear and anger were constants when I was awake and when I dreamed. It was then that I recognized just how poisonous was the whole affair.
So I decided to kill him.
It was a most satisfying task, that of snuffing out his life and hiding all remnants of his existence from sight. The monster now lies in an unmarked grave. I mean, really . . . why on earth would I want to memorialize such a villain? And what would the headstone read? -
Here lies
- MY ILLUSIONS -
Though to the eye exceeding fair,
His heart, ‘twas black and vile.
No longer shall his mien ensnare,
nor manner e’er beguile.
I know I’ll never see him again. Unless I resurrect him, that is. It’s kind of scary to know that I have that kind of power, even more so to know that the responsibility to keep that tomb sealed rests with no one but me.
I really do feel the better for his being dead.
Care to join me in a beer?…
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C) 2007-2009
A Non-Original Diversion
A quote attributed to H.L. Mencken:
“The erroneous assumption is to the effort that the aim of public education is to fill the young of the species with knowledge and awaken their intelligence …. Nothing could be further from the truth. The aim of public education is not to spread enlightenment at all; it is simply to reduce as many individuals as possible to the same safe level, to breed and train a standardized citizenry, to put down dissent and originality. That is its aim in the United States, whatever the pretensions of politicians, pedagogues and other such montebanks, and that is its aim everywhere else.”
This verity explains so much…
For more insight into this travesty, I commend you to:
Number Nine
- The Equation Is Simple -
Live Impeccably.
Stand in Integrity.
Pursue Knowledge.
Emanate Power.
Be Brave and Daring.
Seek Pleasure.
Spread Beauty.
How hard is that?…
Number Eight
- The Mimzy Effect -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
It was my intention to post another politically tinged missive this time, but I am so depressed and sickened by the fools running our government (into the ground) that I thought it best to offer light fare for your consumption. So….
++++++++++++++++++++
In my work I am often called upon to help others heal. Inevitably, this healing process begins within the mind of the person seeking my assistance. Some of the skills I employ are those of psychologist, psychiatrist, spiritual counselor and, occasionally, witch doctor. All of these skills demand efficient and effective interaction between my mind and brain and the brain and mind of the person desiring my help. Please note my distinction between “brain” and “mind.” The brain is not the mind anymore than the mind is the brain. The brain is the organic appliance that serves as the information processor, translator, and data storage device for the mind. Rather than focus on the mind (a supremely ridiculous undertaking when limited to but 800 words), I should this day like to address the brain (an only marginally less ridiculous undertaking).
A while back I had the pleasure of screening a delightful film called THE LAST MIMZY. The premise of this movie was the impending extinction of the human race some time in the hyper-distant future and the attempt by a scientist to retrieve critical genetic information from the past by means of a time-traveling box of toys. These toys are found by a young boy and his little sister in the present day who begin to immediately experience a rapid increase in their sensory and mental capabilities as a result of their proximity to these peculiar playthings. One of the toys is a stuffed bunny rabbit which the little girl promptly adopts as her own and names Mimzy. (If you want to make sense of the story, which I highly recommend, I’m sure you can find the DVD available at your local film monger.)
Now, what has all this to do with my stated topic of the brain? During the course of the movie, the parents of the kids become terrified by the abilities their children have begun to manifest and seek out medical help to determine what’s “wrong” with the kids. It is what the neurologist tells the parents about “normal” children that inspired today’s screed.
The doctor relates that humans are born with roughly 100 billion brain cells. By the age of 3, a child has formed over 1000 trillion synapses (connections) between those cells. By the time we have grown into adulthood, we have lost well over half of those connections, the result of reduced demand on the brain, narrowed focus, the specialization of common thought processes, and habitual thought and action. In short, adult brains, when compared to those of our youth, have become ossified remnants of that which was. Children it would seem, to use a computer analogy, have greater “disk-space” and “processor speed” available to process information than does the average adult. For the purposes of this article, perhaps the more germane way to state this assertion is to acknowledge the sad fact that adults possess half the brain power they had as a toddler of 3.
It is rather humbling to think that, for all the amazing things adults have achieved, we have managed to do so with essentially half our brains tied behind our backs. Not too shabby, but think of the possibilities should we try to reclaim even a portion of what has been lost! What could be accomplished through the combination of a little one’s mind and the knowledge, wisdom, and maturity of a seasoned grownup? Though we don’t have access to a box of futuristic brain-boosting toys, we can take steps, however mundane they may seem, to reclaim a part of ourselves that, arguably, we should never have lost.
I am aware of no biological reason that those shut down synapses cannot be reenergized and reactivated, if not in total, at least in part. I submit, therefore, that it is a worthy endeavor to strive for the revitalization and rejuvenation of the adult brain, a phenomenon which I have dubbed The Mimzy Effect.
Now, while I’m sure several Ph.D. dissertations could be (and probably already have been) written on just this type of phenomenon, let’s cut to the chase and look at the basic problem and a few possible means to encourage achievement of The Effect.
The primary hindrance to a more fully functioning brain lies in the infernal tendency of adults to resist challenge and change. Even those bold seekers of experience who are constantly on the go are almost certainly victims of their own inertia and less than willing to move beyond their familiar zones of comfort. Well worn thought paths become trenches, the trenches over time deepen to gorges. Habits and patterns must be shaken up if not shattered if the goal is genuine rehabilitation and reclamation of heightened cerebral function. Routine is the sworn enemy of the youthful and vital brain.
Though one might prefer to just ingest some chemical, The Mimzy Effect is not likely to come from taking mega doses of fish oil, ginseng, and gingko biloba. Proper nutrition and sagacious intake of supplements certainly can’t hurt, but neither are they a panacea.
Because the brain is part of the body, constantly challenging the body with exercise and athletic exertion is a valuable complement to the quest.
New experience and the determined search for new knowledge can be a veritable brain elixir. Read voraciously, solve puzzles, learn new skills, a new language, learn to play a musical instrument. Expand your boundaries and you will mount a full-frontal assault on your brain’s limitations. Don’t accept the easy way as the only way. Play and play hard!
Finally, work not only from the outside in, but from the inside out as well. Meditate, pray, and, as Jack Handey might suggest, think deep thoughts.
Well, that is all I have time for. I think I shall now take a heaping tablespoonful of my own advice, then I’ll go see if I can find my own nanotechnologically enhanced bunny rabbit to show me how to levitate.
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C) 2007-2009
Number Seven
- Lamentation For A Dream -
“My hope (is) that we have not labored in vain, and that our experiment will still prove that men can be governed by reason.”
Thomas Jefferson to George Mason, 1791
It seems The Great Experiment has failed.
Two-plus centuries ago, the thing of greatest importance in the lives of most of the people that populated the Thirteen Colonies was their freedom. Freedom from the tyranny of the King, his taxes, and his church. Not a government sponsored retirement plan, not a government subsidized medical system, not government supported arts programs. They just wanted to be left alone. Even now there are those living in America who still long for the very same thing. Sadly, it appears that this longing shall never have reason to abate.
The founding fathers of this nation had as their goal the establishment of a republic characterized by limited (which is to say, minimal) government and maximum personal responsibility and liberty. The founders felt that the maximum amount of government should be the minimum amount required to perform only those tasks called for and authorized by the Constitution. These men took a very different view from today’s politicians regarding the scope and function of government. Over time the concepts and institutions imagined by those great men of vision have been corrupted and bastardized almost beyond recognition. Even the most liberal politician of the late 18th century would be shocked at the nanny-state that has taken hold in this country. What began as a nation of law has transmogrified into just another fiefdom of the mob, a land where elected despots mainline the nectar of personal power and worship at the altar of reelection. Power and position are maintained and the peasantry soothed by the indiscriminate opening of the public coffers to any who will trade their vote for a few dollars worth of consideration. The spirit of revolutionary independence that characterized the establishment of this nation is evident no more.
“The generation which commences a revolution rarely completes it. Habituated from their infancy to passive submission of body and mind to their kings and priests, they are not qualified when called on to think and provide for themselves; and their inexperience, their ignorance and bigotry make them instruments often, in the hands of the Bonapartes and Iturbides, to defeat their own rights and purposes.”
Thomas Jefferson to John Adams, 1823
The people of this nation will make halfhearted protestations affirming their love of freedom yet, each time the polling places are opened, most will dutifully enthrone (either through their action or inaction) the ones least likely to champion a vibrant and enduring liberty. Though the democratically elected lords and the obeisant masses will both offer arguments to the contrary, the United States of America has become little more than a neo-feudalistic society. The electorate labors obediently for their masters, hands outstretched in expectation of the largess their overseers have promised. And with each generation that passes through those government indoctrination centers that are public schools, yet another layer of habituation is instilled to insure the “passive submission of body and mind to their kings and priests.”
“Experience hath shewn, that even under the best forms (of government) those entrusted with power have, in time, and by slow operations, perverted it into tyranny.”
Thomas Jefferson, 1779
A benign tyranny truly has emerged in this country, the Tyranny of Indifference. The prevailing view is that the system is what it is and little can be done to change it. Those in control certainly have no reason to refute this belief, for indifference is the greatest ally of the power monger. Personal liberty and personal responsibility are mutually inclusive. One cannot exist in the absence of the other. Likewise, it should be known that indifference and liberty are mutually exclusive. Freedom must be in receipt of the constant stewardship of those who declare themselves to be free. As a garden is tilled and tended, so must the fields of freedom be nurtured and weeded of any growing thing that would overtake and suffocate the fruits of liberty. Be warned: as surely as day follows night, a benign tyranny will inevitably become a tyranny of violent oppression. When such a tyranny takes root there comes a point where the recourse of the ballot box is no longer an option. The only way to be rid of such a tyranny is to rip out its roots forcibly through acts of willful rebellion.
“I hold it that a little rebellion now and then is a good thing, and as necessary in the political world as storms in the physical.”
Thomas Jefferson to James Madison, 1787
Freedom cannot survive where freedom is not wanted. It may be that most of the citizens of this nation truly have no desire for anything so demanding as an abiding liberty. Being free requires an effort greater than most are willing to exert. The few remaining souls who view personal sovereignty as the only acceptable course have a limited number of options available to them if they wish to continue living in America. The first is to live “under the radar,” shunning all but the most unavoidable contact with The System in an effort to outrun (that is, expire before the arrival of) the coming oppressive Tyranny. The second would be to attempt to win the hearts and minds of the indifferent majority to the cause of freedom. (A challenge worthy of Sisyphus if ever there was one.) The third and final option is the instigation of a revolution by force, a futile course of action doomed to summary failure. The overwhelming might of the Tyranny allied with the indifference of the masses condemns a Second Revolution to an end most wretched.
The most prudent course of action for those whose bones ache for liberty may well be the abandonment of the very laboratory where the Experiment failed. Unfortunately, if America is not free, the remainder of the world is even less so. Perhaps necessity may cause members of some future generation to go so far as to colonize the ocean floor in an effort to realize the dream of independence that has so far eluded humanity’s grasp. Wherever lovers of liberty may congregate there will forever be a need for constant vigilance. Freedom is fragile and will always require that its beneficiaries stand at the ready to rise to its defense against the minions of the kings and priests.
“Men can only be governed by reason if those men are reasonable.”
Flying Red Horse, 2003
(This column is taken from the author’s book DIRTY LITTLE GODS: THE MUSINGS, RANTS, AND RAVINGS OF A HERETIC published by Enright House Press, 2004.)
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2004-2009
Number Six
- Sleeper, Awaken! -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
It is not without good reason that one of the most common terms used to describe Enlightenment is Awakening. Sleep contains us. Sleep controls us. Sleep deceives us. Sleep enslaves us. It is the liberated being that has dissolved the bonds of Sleep.
The Sleep of which I speak is not the state we enter each time we return to our beds. That act of physical hibernation serves to revitalize the body and is a beneficial and necessary component of good health. The Sleep that holds us hostage is insidious and more akin to an ambulatory coma. There is movement, there is even a modicum of autonomic organic function, but there is no volitional Life. The body functions, but the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual faculties perform at a sub-maximal level that is analogous to the workings of the reptilian brain. Don’t dare, however, to mention to one of these narcoleptics that they Sleep, for they will stridently deny (sometimes to the point of violent rage) that they are anything other than completely awake. Those who are in Sleep seldom recognize themselves as such, in much the same way the eye cannot see the eye.
One may ask, “How is it possible that we Sleep when our technology, our feats of engineering, our explorations, even our entertainments give evidence to the contrary? To assume that these examples prove anything about the state of the essential human condition is to presuppose that accomplishment in the realm of the Third Dimension is the stick by which one is to measure Awareness. Humanity is much greater than the sum total of its mundane achievements, no matter how great those achievements might be.
“Sleep” is that state of spiritually cognitive dissociation experienced by the majority of humanity. Sleep is the anesthetic of the soul, an agent employed by the ego to maintain the status quo. Sleep is a defense mechanism, a means to numb the pain of daily existence. The subconscious recognition that there is more to life than Sleep is evidenced in the restless longing experienced by those who begin to feel the inner stirrings of the need to Awaken.
As we leave our childhood (for most around the time of puberty), Sleep is a self-learned response to the dawning realization that the world around us is insane and not at all what we experienced as children. The Sleep is a self-induced spiritual morphine drip. And like an addictive narcotic, the more life is lived, the more powerful the Sleep must become to maintain an acceptable level of comfort.
The comparison of spiritual Sleep to the physical variety is not without merit. When we go to bed at night, our brain “disconnects” from our body so as to stop the body from acting out what is experienced in the dreamtime. This dual-purpose neural “circuit breaker” keeps the body in a state of rest and protects the sleeper from any self-inflicted harm. In like manner, Sleep is a mental and emotional circuit breaker that acts to protect the spirit, in effect disconnecting the spirit from the overload of life’s daily distress. Unfortunately, while serving the admirable purpose of protecting the spirit from harm, the Sleep also isolates the spirit from the beauty of Life. The Sleep comes into existence as a filter, then over time transforms into an all but impenetrable wall.
On some level the Self recognizes early on that it is cocooned by the blanket of Sleep and responds by synthesizing a pseudo-life within the blanket, an approximation of what It supposes life should be. But like a structural engineer that is asked to erect a building using raw materials scattered everywhere in disarray, without tools and without any blueprints as a guide, the Self fashions a construct which is a pathetic copy of other pathetic copies it sees all around. It is something, but it is not Life.
Though stifling by its nature and hypnotic in its illusion, the Sleep is not omnipresent. At some point every person will experience glimpses through the veil and have at least a rudimentary understanding that the world which they have fabricated for themselves is a sham and as insubstantial as smoke. When this occurs one of three things will happen as a result. The first (and most common) response is that the spirit will entrench itself deeper within the walls of Sleep in an all out effort to keep the illusion intact and the experience of reality at bay. For those who do not choose automatically to retreat further into the arms of Morpheus, the ensuing war of Sleep against the Will-To-Life can result negatively in emotional or physical breakdown, or positively in the acceptance of the hero’s challenge to Awaken.
Spiritual inertia is identical to that manifested in the physical world: That which is at rest tends to remain at rest, while that which is in motion tends to remain in motion. If one wishes to Awaken, it is imperative that the stagnation of Sleep be transmuted into the ebb and flow of the ever-Aware spirit. This transmutation is seldom realized instantaneously. It (Awakening) is a process that demands attention and an effort greater than the effort expended to create and subsequently maintain the Sleep it seeks to eradicate.
When we recognize that we are in a dream it is then that we possess the first and most powerful tool needed for the achievement of Awakening. The dream is not the enemy; the foe is the Slumber within the dream. The challenge is to remain aware so as to learn to control the dream, in the process moving from the coarsest degree of Awareness to an Awareness most refined. Understand that the dream and Sleep are not inseparable. Though coexisting, one is not dependent upon the other. The dream is mandatory; the state of oblivion that is Sleep is not.
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2004-2009
Number Five
- Darkness -
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
Not too awfully long ago yours truly was engaged in a short email exchange with a friendly acquaintance. For several years I have been an on again/off again counselor and confidant to this particular young lady and the exchange in question was precipitated by an earlier face-to-face encounter where I mentioned to her that she appeared to be down. Below you will find our resulting electronic conversation:
—–Original Message—–
From: Doe, Jane
I am in a dark mood today and it is spilling out. I am sorry. I will be better.
———-
From: Heretic, The
I enjoy my dark places. In them I find elements of my Self that move me, that inform me, that steel me. I freely admit that my greatness is forged in Darkness but is invigorated and given life when I shine forth my Light. Do you embrace the Darkness?
———-
From: Doe, Jane
No.
———-
From: Heretic, The
Then you should know, my dear, that this rejection is the source of your misery. In this you deny your Self.
Like most, my acquaintance rejects the darkness in her Being as inherently unpleasant and base, viewing it as something to be (at the very least) ignored or (if at all possible) conquered.
That evil is ascribed to darkness is an almost universal phenomenon, one that cuts across cultural lines and religious traditions. We are indoctrinated from childhood to believe that in the darkness we will find only pain and suffering and all manner of sinister things. We are given night lights to ward off the monsters that dwell under our beds and in our closets. We are taught to fear darkness, explicitly and by example, not only in the physical realm, but the darkness that resides within our own Beings.
Should the truth be told, it is not darkness per se that people resist; it is the force of evil which is believed (rightly or wrongly) to inhabit the gloom that hobbles so many. It has been my experience that, when observed and considered objectively, darkness and evil are not necessarily mutually inclusive. More often than not, it is the unquestioned acceptance of darkness as the province of the wicked that perpetuates and promulgates the myth and continues to give it odious life in this so-called age of enlightened thought. The benefits to be gained in the acceptance and integration of those valuable elements which abide in darkness far surpass (in this Heretic’s opinion, at least) the unreasonable cautions borne of an uninformed historical prejudice.
In my tradition as an Earth Teacher, the western energetic on an Earth Gate (Medicine Wheel) is viewed as the location of darkness and is identified by the color black. Represented by the element of Earth, it is the looks-within place of introspection and intuition, is the realm of the human body, is considered negative/receptive, and is the matrix of feminine energy. It should, therefore, not be surprising that most of the traits which were just mentioned are in whole or in part looked down upon or viewed in a disparaging light by a wide assortment of religions and philosophies and the people who subscribe to them. To the partisans of superstition and ignorance, nothing of value is to be culled in the shadows and the loss, quite deservedly, is their own. At great peril they reject a valuable aspect of Reality in deference to their preferred brand of intolerance and bias. Perhaps there truly IS a legitimate reason for these individuals to shun the darkness, as there is no night light which can ever shine brightly enough to protect such misguided souls from the inner demons wrought of their own creation.
For the traveler committed to a fuller understanding and experience of Life, it is vital that the darkness be explored and mapped in studied detail. There is much to be learned there and even more to be gained if we can set aside our fears and acknowledge That-Which-Is. It is when we deny and suppress the darkness that we engender strife, for in our denial we tend to feed and antagonize the beast most wish to remain quite and hidden safely away in its cage.
Now, I no more suggest a wholesale cleaving to darkness at the exclusion of light than I espouse the rejection of darkness for the fanciful delusion of light as some manifestation of romantic mythical perfection. Extremes are tinder for the fires of that most palpable of evils, fanaticism. Seek balance and, through it all, don’t be afraid of the dark.
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C) 2007-2009
Number Four
- Desire -
“A life driven by need is a life not worth the living; it is equal in quality to the life of a virus. For humans, a life of need is inexorably characterized and defined by the heavy chains of slavery and bondage. There is no freedom to be found in need. Want is little better, for it is but an evanescent shadow of reality. Beyond need and want is the beauty of Desire. It is our desires and the endeavors we undertake to actualize them that give us purpose and a method to experience the Beauty and the joy and the juices of Life.”
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C) 2006-2009
Number Three
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
With the Industrial Age the modern era began, followed in rapid succession by the Atomic Age, the Jet Age, the Space Age and, most recently, the Information Age. All of these are characterized by technology, humanity’s method and means to control and dominate its environment. There is little doubt that this era is soon to collapse under its own increasingly ponderous weight. We are at the thin end of the wedge of a new epoch, an epoch that will signal a spiritual renaissance or the ultimate destruction of humanity as we know it. A New Day will dawn as the Imagination Age. What (if anything) succeeds this final Day remains to be seen. 2012 is not so far away.
Traversing the narrow corridors of our existence, we prefer stupefaction to cognizance. So long as the mall is open, we have a strong cell signal, and American Idol is on the telly, all is well and life is as it should be. Lip service is paid to the sad state of things, but even this is forgotten when the news of Paris Hilton’s latest travail requires dissemination.
Hear the truth- Humanity has but superficially emerged from the dark ages. Times have changed greatly, but the spirit has changed very little. As it has been proven, the mundane can and will destroy the magickal if magick is stripped of its importance in our lives.
Know your enemies. Outside the castle are people who know the Right Way. Because you know not the Right Way, they wish you dead and they have no hesitancy in giving their own life or the lives of their family and friends to see that you get your just reward. Inside the castle walls, those sworn to protect and defend long ago lost their way. Nothing is of greater importance to the guardians than the retention of their Power. For that, you must obey. You must conform. And conform you do. You expect them to keep you safe; under their aegis you believe yourself to be free. You have no freedom, no safety. Abdicate your responsibility and you rightly deserve to enjoy neither.
On the one hand, there are those who cry, “We must talk! We must give! Surely they will listen to reason?!” Whose reason? Yours? What arrogance! You expect the rest of the world to think like you, to process like you, to have your values, your mythologies? Then you are a fool. Millennia divide those shores. On the hand opposite, those who enjoin wholesale destruction of the enemy, of the land, of the Self. “Rain fire down and conquer; the pittance remaining we shall claim.” Such ignorance! Each position flawed, extreme, fatal. Arrogance and ignorance, ignorance and arrogance. Singularly, a scourge; combined, deadly, a brew most foul.
Eyes numb and dead (or alive with fear), the parrots march and chant their silly slogans, sure that they walk the Path of Change. The dullards will say what is wrong is right and right is wrong. People will die while the media dances. The dance is to convince us to ignore the truth, to offer solutions to problems that do not exist, while that which kills us creeps and spreads.
Political machinations contrived to control others by those who lack the wherewithal to control themselves. Deceptions bought and sold, masters of illusion spinning webs of self-delusion. Those who would rather lie than speak the truth inevitably lie most to themselves. What was once frustration has grown the wings of desperation. The Sun will rise to reveal the carnage.
The absence of Truth,
The absence of Trust,
The absence of Restraint,
The absence of Foresight,
The absence of Insight,
The absence of Creation,
The presence of Violence,
The presence of Ignorance,
The presence of Arrogance,
The presence of Denial -
- these are the Commandments of a sick and dying people, written on the crumbling stone that used to be their hearts.
Death is feared; Life is feared all the more. The line will bruise the Circle.
Things do not exist in isolation. Not humans, not animals, not plants or waters or rocks, not capitalism, not socialism, neither philosophies nor religions. What happens to the People happens to All. Your dream as you know it may soon become a nightmare. Techno-junkies without a fix, slaves betrayed by their ignorance. Variegated and shadowy, the Death of Hope is near.
Greatness shackled, endeavor blinded, a great hope corrupted and defiled, changed from plowshare into bludgeon. Warriors overrun by mindless, thoughtless, soulless soldiers “just following orders.” There is motion without progress, becoming stillness, becoming Death, fair evidence of this generation’s plague. Winds blowing that which long ago stopped being air. Do you give sanction to your murderer, or do you say “NO!” and dare to make a stand?
This is not the raging of a spiteful God. This is Chaos bringing Order.
(This month’s column is an edited culling from a series of visions experienced by the author and was first published online in July of 2007 as a column titled THE PERICULUM.)
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2007-2009
Number Two
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
As I related in my first column I have no aversion to controversy, so I see little reason to waste your valuable time today with preface or needless prevarication. Though it might make those who consider themselves to be at the cutting edge of the New Age Movement uncomfortable, I have come to an inescapable conclusion: the New Age is no longer new and no longer relevant. (Feel free to draw and quarter the messenger if you must, but this will in no way alter the veracity of his message.) What began as a heartfelt and determined desire to cast off the manacles of institutionalized religion and reclaim a mystical connection to Divinity (and humanity’s corresponding Divine Nature) has over time metamorphosed into a confused mishmash of conflicting and efficaciously questionable practices often characterized by cults of personality. Given some of the things many practitioners of New Age spirituality often are willing to believe or do or pay outrageous sums of money for, is it any wonder that mainstream conformist society tends to consider such practitioners to be, at best, humorously misguided eccentrics or, at the worst, dangerously delusional psychotics?
Defending the “no longer new” aspect of my statement is done quite easily and in short order. Though there was never a fountainhead, several names consistently come to mind when considering the emergence of the Aquarian New Age Movement. Bailey, Blavatsky, Cayce, Crowley, and Fillmore were Occidentals who paved the way for the introduction to the West of many Eastern teachers and mystics, with but two examples being Paramahansa Yogananda and D.T. Suzuki. The people mentioned above lived and worked in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. No matter how you look at it, there ain’t a thing new about an Age that has been extant for (give or take) well over 100 years. ‘Nuff said.
As for the admittedly provocative “no longer relevant” comment, I base my position on a dispassionate assessment of an observable lack of results. For every person that achieves a genuine awakening or personal healing experience within some branch of the New Age paradigm, there are hundreds, even thousands, who do not. As a result some give up, others return to more orthodox religion or medicine, while many continue to graze at the spiritual buffet in an effort to find even a morsel that will satisfy their needs. It can be argued that the fault lies with less than dedicated students, not the teacher or the discipline. While this position has situational merit the question should be “what degree of practical and consistent efficacy does a given teaching and approach possess?” All around I see people who have spent hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of dollars on workshops and various otherworldly accoutrement for the stated goal of improving their lives, yet nothing (other than being lighter in the pocketbook) has changed. They are just as bereft/ill/miserable now as they were the day their search began. This is the crux of my contention.
I will now speak the unspeakable: It is not without good reason that the New Age movement has long carried the stench of snake oil. For every method or teacher capable of delivering what is promised there are innumerable incompetents and outright frauds that can’t. New Age franchises tend to attract the intrigued and the gullible, and it is those who are the most easily hornswoggled. The innocent, the desperate, and the lazy are usually the most susceptible to the charms of the quack or the crook. Though the charlatans have done much to damage the integrity of a movement that began with such noble intentions, the blame for its persistent dubious credibility can be spread evenly between the mountebanks and the dilettantes who enable them.
My goal here is not criticism for its own sake and I will not presume to tell anyone what qualifies as a fraudulent discipline; that is for you to decide. (I will, however, submit that it is never a bad idea to keep the phrase caveat emptor in mind.) Neither am I challenging the purveyors of any method to prove to little-ol’-me that their approach is effective. My challenge is to you, the genuine seeker, to not be blinded by the feel-good nonsense that is so readily available in the spiritual marketplace. Any practice that demands nothing of a seeker beyond great quantities of cash and (sometimes) adoration of the teacher is, in the view of this heretic, suspect.
Pumped up power-of-positive-thinking drones that, though thinking positively, take no ACTION to change their state are deserving of the limited results their feeble efforts bring. And you can have all the psychic readings and chakra cleansings that money can buy but, if you don’t make changes to the way you live your life as a result of the knowledge you gained from those readings and capitalize on the benefits of those purifications, you are wasting your money and your time. Nothing will ever replace the time-honored and provable approach of sound theoretical knowledge combined with diligent and persistent work.
Instead of continuing to call an esoteric or mystical approach to spirituality by the outdated and meaningless handle New Age, maybe it would be better to call it Objective Mysticism or Practical Spirituality. Unless, that is, the objective and/or the practical is not what you seek. Unless, that is, the status quo is good enough for you.
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2007-2009
Number One
“Far more than our abilities, it is our choices that show what we truly are.”
- Albus Dumbledore
Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.
To be called a heretic is an experience I have long savored and over the years I have had many opportunities to indulge my perverse enjoyment of being thus maligned. No matter what spiritual discipline I have learned and taught, there has always been someone close by to wag a finger in my general direction and tell me just how wrong I am, how I am corrupting the teachings. It must be said that, when the textbook definition of the word heretic is considered, I truly am one! A heretic is a person who holds controversial opinions, especially ones that publicly challenge officially accepted dogma. That’s me all over! It should therefore come as no surprise that I identify strongly with the Greek root of the word heretic. That root is hairetikos, which means “able to choose.”
In the final analysis, everything comes down to choice. The great motivational speakers all state that the quantity and severity of challenges we experience in our lives is of little importance. How we choose to perceive and respond to those challenges is what matters. Where others might choose to be victims of circumstance, it is the Spiritual Warrior who responds with life affirming choices (and actions) rather than reacting as though everything is beyond her control. It is the simple choice between being at the cause or at the effect.
Most every choice we make is a point of departure that will lead to an inevitable destination. The demand upon us to make choices is as incessant as it is unavoidable. To quote a line from lyricist Neil Peart, “[Even] if you choose not to decide you still have made a choice.” To claim the power inherent in conscious choice is to simultaneously shoulder the burden of responsibility for the consequences of those choices. It is this burden of responsibility that so frightens the average person and the reason so many prefer to let others make their choices for them.
We do not live alone in this world and no matter how considered one might be with regards to choices made, it is certain that those choices can and will be effected by the choices of others, those we know and those we don’t. Is it not fair to ask that those who, as associates, friends, and coworkers, have the greatest access to (and, therefore, influence upon) us be at least as concerned with making conscious choices as are we? This should give a person all the more reason to be selective about the company one keeps.
It may seem that in trying to consider the myriad of possible outcomes each choice could bring one could be easily overwhelmed, even to the point of mental and/or physical apoplexy. This doesn’t have to be the case. Gentle persistence is generally the best course when learning a new skill. Learning how to make wise choices is no different. Be aware of your choices and don’t be afraid to follow your instincts.
All humans are possessed of a dual nature that is equally adept at expressing the utmost love or manifesting lurid villainy. What separates the killing fields from Elysian Fields is choice. Whether we determine to Love or to Fear, to act or react, create or destroy is a function of how we use Energy. It is our choices that send us down the infernal path and it is our choices that can redeem and Awaken us.
The meaning of Life is really quite simple: Life is about choice. Nothing has more influence on our lives and our happiness than the choices we make. We are here because we choose to be. Our life has the meaning we choose to give it. Whether we live in the awareness of our elemental nature as a part of the world we inhabit and our spiritual nature as the offspring of Creation, or as victims of circumstance who are out of balance and out of control can only be decided by the individual. Creation gives us sovereignty. It is we alone who abdicate that sovereignty. The Choice is ours.
There is so much darkness in the world, so very much pain that it often overshadows the Joy. This does not have to be. We are not condemned to the mire. Beauty is but a choice away.
(Portions of this column were adapted from the author’s book DIRTY LITTLE GODS: THE MUSINGS, RANTS, AND RAVINGS OF A HERETIC published by Enright House Press, 2004.)
Billy Flying Red Horse
(C)2004-2009
