Tower Persephone Jaguar

Spoke with my Mother yesterday. It's always a trip to speak with an O'Reilly-head. I love my mother, but I also know that she's deep in the clutches of something much larger than she or I can even attempt to do battle with. I mostly don't contest her.

On the immigration issue she said, "It's really very simple. Just keep 'em all out." Now, at first I couldn't let that pass, and I think I might have gotten a gentle point across, that the Racist Right really complicates the issue. I said there were emotions involved, and my Mom, the Libra with no planets in water, said "You have to leave the emotions out of it."

Easier said than done, right?

The truth about this issue is generally pretty ugly and gross. Corporatists of course favor race-to-the-bottom immigration. Racists favor erecting walls at the borders with snipers to "shoot 'em all and let the WRASP god sort 'em out." (I inserted the 'R' to add "rich" to the WASP acronym, for the Archonic Jehovah/Yaldabaoth is a rich-man's mirror-image deity. Invisible Donald Trump/Pat Robertson Cloud Being as it were.) To have an honest discussion on this topic would have been a marvel, to say the least. It blew my mother's mind that Wal-Mart (of which she is no fan, at least) is interfering with Port Security. What good's a wall going to do when you've got a corporate fifth column at work at the ports?

At some point, I realized it was better I just let my mother go off on her toxic way. She's of the school of thought that Peak Oil is a fabrication, a destructive mirage. Mother, bless her heart, also eschews the Armageddonists' insanity. But she really doesn't want anything to besmirch the fantasy of how we Americans live our lives and what sorts of difficulties we foist on others the world over. By her lights, I'm just a negative person, even though I mostly feel positive about what's about to boil over everywhere. Sort of like Jesus Jones "there is no place I'd rather be [than] right here right now, watching the world wake up from history."

I'm hoping that because I really do work at accepting "what is", at least as I understand "what is," will be the greatest service I can offer to anyone in Albany or anywhere for that matter. I have no idea who, if anyone reads this blog. I know there are a couple of ye stalwarts out there. And one of these days, I hope to post a link to various PDFs of my longer opuses I've been at work on. Currently, I'm attempting to write a Shakespearean 5-act play about marriage, art, walk-ins, work, the tripartite world, etc. It's a rewrite of a script I started years ago and shelved when I started working at law firms and "saw how the world REALLY worked." I have some fun little plays from that era as well--including the "Eight of Swords" I posted last week.

For today, I accept my mother's denial. May the belief b'ankey she clutches tightly to herself serve her for as long as humanly possible. Ditto for my brother and sister and everyone I know who currently has hedged some bet. For my part, I'm educating myself and taking quiet actions, ever reminding myself that pawns in a chess game often are the most powerful pieces because they're so quiet and slow, and easy to dismiss. (My hero!) I have no desire to be a guru, or to toot my own horn too loudly, else the stand-out nail gets hammered. In the meantime, it serves me and serves others and serves deity and guide alike to be kind and thoughtful in all my interactions with others.

I like where I am today. It's working just fine, even though there's evidence to the contrary. I'll integrate that at my leisure--after all, I do have time for that pursuit. At least I'm aware that I do. The three A's--awareness, acceptance, action--occur in a certain order by design. My awarenesses grow, my base of information accumulates more stuff and becomes knowledge that hopefully distills even more significantly into wisdom. (And Prayer and meditation do wonders.)