Tag Archives: freedom

whimper and sob

whimper and sob


I was asked the other day to recall what I remembered (felt?) about having heard the news on the day that Jack Kennedy was gunned down in Dallas, and on the day that the Towers fell. (I just recently brushed across an old reference to embodiment and somatics.)

I suspect that the reason I was asked is not uncommon, being part of another’s attempt to make sense of their own shock and anger…. to maintain some sense of comparative sanity in a world which appears to have gone dense and inert.  Much has been said and written by cadres of clinicians who specialize in pychology or some related, distant, disconnected field of the humanities, as if a single person could come to some kind of clarity by reading treatises. We make sense of the world by looking around at our peers, our family and our community and seeing how they react, how they saw the event, what they thought then and think now.

Such was the case that crisp Friday afternoon in New England, and for the rest of the weekend.  I had been sent away to a prep school by a father who’d had the same kind of experience and thought it best that I get a good education, and so I was enrolled in a rural, non-denominational prep school founded by Protestant evangelist Dwight Lyman Moody who viewed Christian religious education as an essential objective of his schools. 

Boarding School Review.com says today that students study, work, sleep, play, eat and everything in between, together.  When I was there, we mandatorily ate together (mostly in silence, speaking only when spoken to by a ‘master’ at the table), went to mandatory chapel together, studied alone, worked our mandatory three hours a week at some communal duty, and slept in a dorm room with one other roommate.

I was at Mount Hermon (before it merged with the Northfield School for Girls) because Choate, Exeter, Phillips Andover and Deerfield wouldn’t have anything to do with me, and soon enough the same would be said for Mount Hermon, where I flopped around like a fish on the beach. They bussed the girls across the river for the football games so we would remember that indeed there were females in the world but in 1964 only the Beatles on the jukebox in the Student Union  gave us any introduction to cross-gender social interaction. 

I didn’t belong there, I didn’t want to be there, they didn’t want me there, and there I was… walking across the edge of the iconic football field to a classroom building long since burned down, sensing some hubub in the communal astral field. The news from Dallas raced from building to building, from mouth to mind, and then there we were, assembled for French class: the Czeckslovakian teacher who’d fled Europe informed us of the death of the President in a tearful and passionate, heartfelt way that became a lecture in freedom, not a lesson in French. By the time we’d left the class to walk on to geometry class, the bells in the Memorial Chapel had been rung 43 times, riveting shut the coffin lid of the Republic. Each student had been left alone to ponder the meaning. Students had no access to radio or TV. And with the exception of that genuine outburst by Monsieur Slovak, I don’t recall any adult saying anything.

I lived in one of the very small dorms where I could be under the watchful eye of a houseparent, along with the other 13 boys, two freshman, eight other sophomores, two juniors, and a senior house monitor who went on to a career in management and leadership. (If I heard them, I’ve since forgotten any insights he might have had that weekend, nor have I ever read any of his books.) My roomate was an obviously very entitled (spoiled) brat from within the rich boating and commuting communities of Wall Street and a place called Darien.  I recall attempting to make hard cider on the radiators, and playing hall hockey with wadded, adhesive-taped balls of paper and the mops provided to use in dusting the floors. The hallway never had dust, but did gain some strange marks on the walls near the tops of the stairs at either end. Score!

The student residents were gathered in the living room of David C. Burnham and his wife at North Farmhouse, across the street from the barns noted in “Farragut’s Theorem” and above the plateau where the lacrosse coach parked his bouncing VW microbus when he had a date. We residents were clustered with a small handful of faculty types there in the living room to watch TV; we caught our first glimpse of “I am just a patsy” as he was transferred from his temporary holding cell to a more secure location. 

I remember the hushed tones, the unintelligble murmurings, the separation that occurred almost instantaneously as the faculty and all campus elders disconnected from their youthful charges into tight groupings of two and three in which they discussed the events of the weekend.  I don’t recall any attempts to integrate any understandings, insights, questions, or projections for the students. I recall watching the funeral among a group of people who said almost literally nothing except an occasional sotto voce utterance of a whimper or a sob. In my little world, everyone sat alone in stunned and respectful silence, in shock and awe

I moved on, with little thought, returning (blessedly) to a more humane public high school filled with richer and more varied and vibrant human interaction.  I had been in jeopardy of being thrown out of the boarding school for poor grades and recalcitrant behavior, having served not one but two of their infamous “six-and-eighteens” (eighteen hours of hard labor and six weeks confined to campus).  The first was for failing to observe the proper decorum of the West Hall experience of dinner; I did wear the coat and tie, but the tie had been hastily tied and tucked under the collar of a turtleneck sweater, and the sport coat did little to cover the cut-off jean shorts I had been wearing to practice catching and tossing a lacrosse ball. The President had been shot dead and I scrubbed the dirty pots and pans in the kitchen on six successive Saturday afternoons. The second offense was for cheating on an exam; under the pressure of competition for grades and not wanting to let down my father, who had attended the higher-ranking Phillips Exeter, I wrote down a clue and cue on my hand and then used that hand to turn in the exam book. Doh! The President’s brain was missing and I got to scrub out the char from the walls of the campus heating plant boilers.  I got more heat than anyone from the Secret Service. 

I thrived more readily in public school, despite (or perhaps because of) disruptive attempts to make learning more fun and participatory, and I slid into my safety school, the big state “U”, where my psych 101 class had more students than my entire high school. Once again I was a small rainbow trout flitting around down near the pebbles and sand of a campus crammed with people looking to avoid the draft. I enrolled in the Bay State Special Forces, did weekends in the woods and at nearby Fort Devens, learned how to assemble an M-1 in the dark and disassemble a bridge with explosives. I roomed with a conscientious objector, covered the Dow protests as a budding journalist, and “witnessed” the PTSD-inducing murders of King, Kennedy and the events of Chicago. I studied Presidential politics with a massive multi-player classroom simulation, took History of Film three times until the professor finally agreed to pass me, got married, worked my way through school as an ambulance attendant (they didn’t have EMT’s then), and popped out of the experience 12 credits short of graduation yet a whole lot wiser. I got the 12 credits and a career in emergency medical services systems development and eventually became very focused on mass casualty incident management, or what needs to happen when the sudden victims outnumber the responders and the resources by a factor of ten, or a hundred, or a thousand.

In the interim, in the gaps between the all-encompassing foci of jobs, a new marriage, and kids, I managed to catch up on the literature and research into what is now called “state crimes against democracy”. I can recall my 14-year-old son wondering why I was so consumed with reading about the events of Dealey Plaza, of wondering why it was that two very popular anti-war candidates were murdered at the doorways to their successful emergence. But I put those concerns aside as work and the adolescence of my own kids consumed virtually all my excess energy.

By the year 2000, the kids were in college, I was unemployed and yet had developed a very strong interest in emergency management. Having “graduated” from EMS and mass casualty incident management and training, the next logical progression seemed to be emergency management, incident management systems and training, and the larger picture of what a society does in the face of disaster. I had taken a proposal I’d developed for the use of simulation gaming as a tool for learning and the development of planning dialogue. I’d originally conceived it as a dispatcher for an urban ambulance conglomerate in the Pioneer Valley who refused to send his entire fleet to Boston for the crash of a Delta jet at Logan. I nurtured this interest as a hobby through the years I organized major medical symposia in trauma management, a venture into media-based continuting medical education, a brief return to regional administration of an EMS system for 28 cities and towns, and the Malden Mills proof-of-concept. 

I’d polished the proposal and re-burnished it every few years, shopping it to successive cycles of national leadership, publishing an article in a national publication, and corrresponding with people in the US Army, the White House, the National League of Cities, relevant international associations, anyone whose name and address I could glean from the library. I’d read about the work done by the United States Army in training and doctrine (TRADOC) that led directly to the successful outcome in 73 Easting, a potential I’d  grasped intuitively, having played countless rounds of tabletop recreations of Napoleonic-era battles, the Avalon Hill game of 1776  and three different versions of the Battle of the Bulge, an event that involved half a million men and their military machinery and logistics over an area of 2,500 square miles.  The latter game I played out in solo fashion over forty times, once by the calendar with a move every six hours.  In the latter years, the game was semi-permanently installed in my basement office; I kept records, wrote orders for each move, kept AAR’s, and assembled a doctrinal understanding for both sides of the conflict. I read everything I could get my hands on about the battle, and studied military strategy and tactics at a very high (if auto-diactic) level. If someone could learn something moving little pieces of printed cardboard cutouts, I rreasoned, then they could learn something about how to react to the seemingly-sudden events of disaster if the mapboard were computerized. No such technology existed, thoguh I was just beginning to learn about this phenomenon called interactive videodisc.

Apparently a few software engineers at Bolt Beranek and Newman, working off DOD and DARPA initiatives, thought the same thing, though they had big computers wired into high-tech simulated tanks. Their work was top secret, or so they thought, as did the CIA, who called me one day wanting to know how I knew enough to write knowledgeably about it in that propsal I’d forwarded over-the-transom to an army base in Texas. [I gave them the page number, author, publisher and ISBN number for the book in which I’d read about it.]

Time went on and my interest did not abate. I watched and read the news projecting and predicting some future horrendous terror attack in or near New York City.  By this time, I’d trained fire service and EMS crews, and had been writing about situation assessment, the TADMUS research, the OODA loop, and had put together an e-book on performance psychology. By this time, my daughter was living and working in and around Queens as a student, having risen to the top of the NCAA D-1 fast-pitch softball world. [#2 slugger in the nation as a 5’7” catcher from the East Coast].  I’d been busy attending what workships and seminars I could find in the field of emergency management. And I discovered that the primary expert involved in emergency management for the city of New York was someone named Jerome Hauer. I hadn’t done a lot of reading in deep politics et alia for years, and so I sent Mr. Hauer a copy of my proposal.  Soon enough Mr. Hauer was on the news, and then too his brand-spanking-new $13 million crisis center on the 23rd floor at 7 World Trade Center.

I hadn’t gotten much interest in my ideas or my proposal and so I simply watched the news gradually unfold. I saw it coming. I don’t think I’m unusual in saying that. It’s been said by others that “the system was blinking red”, and they were the very people who were supposed to be responsible for management of the disastrous event. It appears that they could accurately predict and forecast the event because they planned it. They embodied the prodrome of that disaster. 

But I was naive. Or pre-occupied. It might be said that I was a victim, as suggested by Dr. Leonard Marcus, a victim of my own “silo thinking”. I was awoken on the morning of 9/11/01 when I snapped on my laptop and read the e-mail from my daughter. 

I’d like to tell you that I was able to suspend judgment and think critically when I snapped on my TV. But I was in shock and awe, mesmerized, like so many, by the power of the modern-day news medium to see across the distances (as promised in the very word tele-vision) and become consumed (became a consumer of) the narrative tale.  I knew I was watching history unfolding. Here — as they knew— was the Kennedy assassination seen live from every angle; now at last I could follow the events more closely and didn’t have to rely on being cast alone into a corner.  But the dastardly culprits had advanced their game more rapidly and effectively than I had my own. This was a choregraphed event, not live reporting. My instant reaction was to think about the needed societal coordination and interaction to be able to respond to hundreds and hundreds of injured people; my concerns were for the first responders. When it became all too obvious that there was no meaningful response necessary, I shut down.

Like every one else, I had gulped down as much as I could, but I shut it off and began to question within days; the questions had no answers, and my daughter soon had a new gig; she was a top-level amateur in pursuit of more, and I was a rookie all over again, this time as an umpire in a single-ump system for adolescent players. It was an opportunity for me to apply my own lessons in performance psychology to the role as game arbiter, manager of a fair and competitive learning experience. I thrived; she thrived; my son was already rapidly climing the ladder of his chosen business career. The questions eventually caught up with me in good time as I transitioned some of my energy into an effort to elect someone other than a Bush and landed in the pumpkin patch of a political discussion board where I was prompted by the news and op-eds of the day, and the encouragement and support of a virtual friend, whose online avatar was the gif of WTC7 disappearing into the ground. 

Originally I did not and could not see the cracks in the charade of 9/11; my consumption was managed for me by the mainstream media with the help of the perps. In time, and with the help and questions of many, I learned to look more deeply, to ask more thoroughly, to argue more effectively, and to be persistent in my insistence that something was amiss. I do not claim to be a leading 9/11 spokesperson or researcher, though I did my work and discovered an occasional nugget that no one else had seen. I was unemployed, and I had the time and interest to do more reading than the average person. 

I’m still learning. I’m still posting what I see and find. I signed on formally a long time ago. I am a registered Truther. I’m by no means an expert in every little nuance. And I did enough homework to know that the real questions and the real answers have nothing to do with planes, thermite or Muslims with boxcutters.

I learned a long time ago, sometime around Thanksgiving in 1963, that you cannot accept at face value what your community and national leaders tell you are the facts. They are at best timid, at worst complicit. 

When you watch your world accept — without more than a whimper and a sob —  the repeated coups of open assassination and wholesale murder, then the lessons are clear. Torture and extra-judicial murder and genocide are easy to accept when the best and the brightest are discovered to have been complicitly silent.

We make sense of the world by looking around at our peers, our family and our community and seeing how they react, how they saw the event, what they thought then and think now, and then by talking about it

Since 1963, no one (save for the obvious courageous handful) has jump-started any dialogue; now you’re not even allowed to talk about it without the threats of loss of work, status, freedom or life. 

And Northfield Mount Hermon graduated Valerie Jarrett. 

There should be hundreds doing life in prison without parole, or “six and eighteen” for eternity. 

But they were probably the ones who were silent in 1963.



Source of featured image:

http://www.nmhschool.org/parent-update/all/all    [Go ahead and see what it was about]

What can we do?


What can we do?


Music audio:

Dhafer Youssef & Hüsnü Şenlendirici 

‘dance of the invisible dervishes’ 

19.07.2012 Istanbul



“What can we do?” is an attempt to answer the question for myself and perhaps for others “what we can doin the face of rampant, nearly-unstoppable psychopathological evil taking form in genocide, endless war, total surveillance, advancing militarization, and near-complete totalitarianism.

I apologize for the length of this entry (100 pages). Brevity has never been my strong suit.  But I am learning and trying. (Mrs. Blogger brought home from the book store two more books: “Born to Blog” and “Twitter for Dummies”. Mastery of the latter requires brevity and it will also help the former.)

I have broken the piece down into three chunks, and I will provide a summary/abstract follows and is repeated at the conclusion. See the tag cloud above.

The whole thing contains 78 links, seven pdf’s, five videos totaling 19 minutes, and nine pieces of music totaling 93 minutes.

It is an opinion, a POV, a synthesis that contains some thoughts about self-awareness, the use of the metaphor of aikido in communications and relationships, the story about Gurdjieff’s teachers by LeFort, the book “Born to be Good” by Keltner (about the facial muscles and communications, and more), a book by Standage about social media as practiced for two millennia, some thoughts about physicians entailed “Further Prescriptions”, and a book by a physician entitled “Why Us?”.

Indeed, why us?

It is broken into three parts.

Part One, including this summary or abstract, runs about 20 pages and includes the introductory thoughts, a four-page pdf intro to Dacher Keltner’s “Born to Be Good: The Science of a Meaningful Life”,  a 4-page pdf sidebar on verbal aikido and the use of aikido concepts in situations of conflict (and there are other books by Dobson, Heckler, et al), some thoughts on awareness, an intro to LeFanu’s book “Why Us?” and a 15-page pdf of excerpts, some thoughts on conflict, and catharsis, a link to a major article on planetary consciousness, another on native American perspectives, and a short look at my own orientation to mountains.

Part Two focuses on empathy, the concept of wu wei, creativity, contains a 14-page look at my orientation to physicians, has a further focus on children, relationships, society, alignment, leadership, the failure of science in a specific case as noted by a highly-recognized-and-honored scientist, more on face-to-face communication, and a short précis on organizational learning.

Part Three looks at happiness, self-awareness, Heaven, truth, conflict, some further personal expressions on what we can do, a look at Rafael LeFort’s story about his search for the teachers of Gurdjieff (as well as links to articles that have an opposing POV) and an academic paper on the influence of Gurdjieff on noted jazz pianist Keith Jarrett).

What we can do is to keep learning.  This comes from LeFort’s story about Gurdjieff and elsewhere. 

We can learn about consciousness (see Zimmerman, Burrowes, Le Fanu et al, and consult your own mind). 

We can gravitate toward truth, at least our truth

We can practice alignment

We can engage in harmony during conflict (see Ueshiba). 

We can become better at and practice more frequently the arts and sciences of interaction, encounter, and face-to-face communications (see Keltner). 

We can master social media (see the books mentioned above, and others, and Standage). 

We can create community (see Corbett). 

We can become leaders of our communities, if only through the above steps. 

We can teach our truth (see “Architect for Learning”). 

We can engage with the dominant mainstream media more effectively, and we can create new media

We can create. 

We can touch people. 

We can move people.

We can love. 


Comments are welcome through the contact page.  I will assemble the best and most articulate, and post them.



What can we do? (Part One)

I awoke one Saturday morning a couple of weeks ago with a lot on my mind.  

Perhaps it was remnants of a dream, or more likely the mental dust from having browsed a few books lying around on my bed and bedside table.

Right now, my reading has been somewhat discombobulated; I’m jumping around.

I jump from book to book, and personal problem or encounterto another of a different type, and then back to a book after extended reading on the world wide web.

Sometimes synthesis emerges from this.

I decided I’ll give it a try here.

My biases, I noted to myself, are that I come from

  • an autodidactic study of positive/performance psychology with a minor sub-branch in cognitive science that seeks to empower individuals,
  • from a lifetime of focus on emergency service, and
  • from the combination of those two in teamwork and leadership.

Pressing on the corpus callosum of synthesis: the recent expressions of frustration and despair I’ve seen on the net which join my own.

I speak of Kenny and Noor, specifically, though they are only representative of a much larger group.

“In my travels this week it has been both discouraging and disappointing to find that although there are many willing to talk about what’s going on in Iraq and the Middle East, there are few who understand what is really happening. That’s not to say I have it all correct but most regurgitate the mainstream slop as reality and it means the propaganda is working. A calm mention of false flags and hired deviant Wahhabi terrorists or wars for empire and Israel are met with odd looks. Americans are so slow to catch on and admit they have been deceived. Awareness is a first line defense. Unfortunately it is in short supply.”

Posted by kenny at 12:02 PM

We all ask what is it that we can do….

“Your contribution can be as simple as making changes in your personal life and aligning yourself with right principles and truth. It may be as big as speaking out on important issues and spreading ideas for change.…”


A number of pictures serve as the backdrop; all of them feature children. The best of us think of the children we know and how we can care for them, guide them, nurture them. (How can you not cry when you read of Namous?)



[Shirley Horn sings in the background …. “Why Didn’t I See?”

Earlier, she asked  “Where Do You Start?” ]

(Music informs our personal and interpersonal synthesis.)



Israeli airstrike creates a pond in Gaza City



I read about the world and the current turns of events; all I want to do is weep.

Iraq again? I am speechless at what these demons do to work their evil on Russia and China via Iran via Iraq. Iraq was Balkanized for the creation of just such regional wars as we see today ~ all goes according to plan.

I read about the nuclear depopulation programme in place and feel so helpless ~ there is so much to Iraq and DU and Fukushima and Chernobyl ~ it is overwhelming. But, I digress, back to Iraq.

What plan? Any plan. They have created so many stewpots of division and hatred around the globe that there is no shortage of plans to fall back on. Anywhere.

That hatred we work so hard to keep under wraps is giving me a tough time. Hatred is such an easy fix but giving in to hatred means one has given up all hope. It concedes defeat. It is a weakness to be exploited since hatred seems to warp all focus. So I cry a lot it seems. Listen to a lot of music, stare out the window and think. That light at the end of the tunnel seems to get further and further away.

Our losses seem to keep mounting up, like the Canadian Federal Government approving the Enron pipeline this week.   Yet they have the nerve to brag about Canada’s environmental record! No one wants this development although it is already far more along than most people are aware. Construction preparation is well underway. It makes me truly want to vomit.

Posted by Noor al Haqiqa at 11:54 PM


All this has, of course, intensified as a result of the events in the Ukraine and the continued and escalated genocidal attacks on the people — especially the children — inside the open-air concentration camp known as Gaza. These are modern-day technological advances on the occupation of Native American lands and the actions at Wounded Knee et al.

The books include Dacher Kelter’s “Born to Be Good: The Science of a Meaningful Life” [see http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/author/Dacher_Keltner], started in seriousness, with highlighter as bookmark, before I got distracted with having to pack everything and hump it all down a flight of stairs. In my case, a lot of the heavy lifting got done by family. I hit a rut when he got to the part about coding facial displays and understanding the emotional controls through the vagus nerve. I stopped at the the facial muscular vocabulary and the choreography of “smile”, and have yet to tackle the parallel material dealing with “laughter”, “tease”, “touch”, “love”, “compassion”, “awe” and “reverence”.

Because I tend to jump around, I did highlight a small piece on page 226 which read as follows:

Flight/fight tendencies of self-preservation are continually at odds with tendencies to care in the electro-chemical flow of our nervous systems. The content of the mind shifts between the press of self-interest and the push of compassion. The ebb and flow of marriages, families, friends, and workplaces track a dynamic tension between these two great forces — raw self-interest and a devotion of the welfare of the other. The study of emotion is experiencing its own “sympathy breakthrough” thanks to recent studies of compassion, which are revealing this care taking emotion to be built into our nervous systems. The study of this emotion holds new clues about the health of marriages, families, and communities.


I’ve picked Born To Be Good back up now and you can follow along: see the sidebar in pdf format here.     Dacher Keltner Jen

Is this a suggestion for the value of face-to-face interaction in a world heavily given to faceless social media? Yes.

How do we encounter people halfway across the globe and who speak a different language?

Is the emerging technology of online collaboration viable?



I’ve all-but-finished Tom Standage’s “Writing on the Wall” [ writing-on-the-wall ], a chronology of media since the days of the Roman Empire; I’m the 20th century and moving toward the 21st. I’m at the part where he describes the development of “webs” of communication among the telegraph operators (foreshadowing “Mr. Tom” and his friends who used listserv mechanisms among computer operators before the Internet was formalized.) [Today you can build a private discussion board for invited guests only or fashion a Twitter network.] There are some good thoughts about the press and the social media which make me, a blogger by choice, reflect. I’ll have to finish his section on radio and its use as a means of propaganda dissemination; today we have podcasting. And I haven’t yet delved into his discussion of television, “the drug of the nation”. But then I already have a degree in communications studies and I have blogged about these for years.

I’ve watched/listened to James Corbett’s podcast/video which promises and delivers free and critical thinking; as a blogger, I’m certainly an alternative and have left the MSM/TV world except as momentary entertainment or glimpse into the world to which I am opposed. [They’re watching us so intensively that we need to keep an eye on them to know what they’re doing, capable of, and planning.]



I’m working on and thinking a lot about verbal aikido, or the application of the lessons of the Shintoism-oriented shaman I know as O Sensei, that little man who took the violence that he found and transformed it into an effective tool of defense and simultaneously a tool of teaching, enlightenment and love.

He reminds me of Derrick Jensen in his transmutation of hate and violence into teaching and activism [see “A Language Older Than Words” et alia].

I write a lot about aikido, not because I progressed far in the discipline but because it fascinates me and I’ve read a lot about it.  [I did progress far enough to peer through the rip in the curtain.]  Again, see the sidebar on aikido below.



aikido and relationships 

I mentioned my fascination with what aikido has to teach us about relationships and the fact that it might inform someone close to me about whom I care deeply (both parties in the conflict) in a short e-mail to a new contact; he’s a fellow who has had significant contact with the world of military intelligence but left it and explored the world of Native Americans.

He sent me

Being Nature’s Mind: Indigenous Ways of Knowing and Planetary Consciousness [ delvingdeeper.org/being.pdf ]as well as a link to his own work:

Napi in the new age (on quantum mechanics and the Native American).

What jump-started this thought process was having leafed through some sections of James Le Fanu’s “Why Us?: How Science Rediscovered The Mystery of Ourselves”:


Le Fanu is an open critic of materialism and Darwinism.[4] He is the author of the controversial book Why Us?: How Science Rediscovered the Mystery of Ourselves, in which he claims that Darwin’s theory of evolution is a materialistic theory that fails to explain consciousness and the experience of the human being.[4] He states that it is not enough to conjure the wonder of the human experience from the study of bones, genes and brains alone.[7] According to a review of his book by the New Scientist, Le Fanu argues for the existence of an immaterial “life force”.[8] Le Fanu is not a creationist and does not argue for God, instead he argues for a non-physical cosmic force which he claims could explain where consciousness originates from; he also claims it may explain many of the other mysteries unexplained by material science.[9][10] 



For more on this book and author, see the sidebar below entitled “Why Should We Be Different?”

Why Should We Be So Different?


I’ve spoken of the need to find or form an association of bloggers — perhaps this feeds into Corbett’s thoughts on alternative media — and Ron said he wanted to know what I’d found, or join in.  [He’s already done so with his contributions here.]

James speaks of empaths [I hope I am one] and psychopaths [I’ve met more than a few and hope that I am not one of their peers.].

James says “It is a fundamental mistake to battle your opponent using their weapon of choice”, an interesting variation of the aikido lessons about disarming an opponent.

But how do you disarm an opponent that is armed to the teeth?



The picture is reminiscent of the staves carried by the residents of Worcester County as described in Ray Raphael’s “First American Revolution”.

Taking the weapon away from the opponent:

You must take a position in which you are facing the same direction or “seeing things” the way your opponent does… you must get close to him in order to control him and his weapon. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVaC2UY1vRA (2:32)

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrJ5Y6tuNj8 (1:56)

Compare this to the infiltrative techniques practiced and taught by neoconservative Jewish intellectualism and the theories espoused by Edward Luttwak in his book Coup d’État: A Practical Handbook

What is the effective counter-move? 

If the truest, most honorable warriors were willing to risk their lives to count coup on an opponent without intention of harming that opponent, we can only marvel at the nonviolent psychology and wonder where it might have gone.


Brad J. Bushman published “Does Venting Anger Feed or Extinguish the Flame?” (PSPB, Vol. 28 No. 6, June 2002 724-731) which demonstrates that “catharsis” is not effective in reducing anger or aggressiveness. While expressing emotion is healthy, it does not extinguish the source of the emotion. Learning to kick, punch, or be “powerful” doesn’t deal with the issue causing negative emotion and this study demonstrates that individuals who depend on cathartic behaviors tend to be more reactive in future moments of stress, anxiety, and conflict.


Zimmerman’s treatise on indigenous and Native American spirituality, sent on by Ron, talks about unbridgeable chasms between culture, methods by which we can “finally begin to see into another way of being and other ways of knowing”, and introduces the topic of child-rearing. The hand that rocks the cradle, and the involvement of the village, and other theories not withstanding, Zimmerman, George Lakoff, and Ron approach the issue from the perspective of “dialogue at the meta-level”.

Mary Jane Zimmerman’s goal “is to help readers from any culture begin to become aware of how deeply embedded our cultural modes of perceiving are and how different they may be from those of other cultures. This type of self-reflexive awareness is necessary for true dialogue and can also be facilitated by dialogue.”

“It is now crucial for members of the dominant Western culture to begin to see how current global environmental, social, and political problems have sprung from the Western tendency to think in terms of discrete units and how we have largely lost the ability to see connected, interwoven patterns of motion.”

I’m not going to try to characterize Ron’s perspective. I’ve just begun to get to know and read this fellow and I am struck by the depth of his experience and perception. We share some common experiences and interests, but probably in the way that an apple and a banana both share a peel. I urge you to begin to read his blog. I have much to learn. I also urge you to read Mary Jane Zimmerman’s work on planetary consciousness

“… everything in the cosmos is connected and that all physical bodies and all minds are expressions of a deeper spiritual essence “(Begay and Maryboy 277)….

“The human is closely related to the mountain because both exist at the center between Mother Earth and Father Sky.”

The Native American and the Taoist — connected through a land bridge— both understand this.  The Shintoist Morihei Ueshiba understands this and brings it to the art and discipline of aikido. There’s an understanding of quantum physics buried in all of this too. It is spoken of as “a participatory understanding of reality. If we see the world as a place of gift, where the earth and the beings on the earth are fond of humans and want to help them, we will experience its abundance; we will be able to ‘participate in the conversation of the Gift’.”


My own relationship with mountains includes Greylock and Cadillac. I have chunks of granite and marble from each as desktop talismans. I’ve seen the sunrises and sunsets off both, have camped on or near them, but these are not uncommon experiences. Nor, I hope, are the ones I’ve had throughout New England in moments of deep meditation.

Greylock is one of the rare and southern-most taigaboreal forests in New England.  I spent a decade living in the lower mouth of the glacial cirque at its Western base; that location is hidden, at virtual dead center in the photo. The Taconic range stands behind to the west.  The estate belonging to a Rockefeller and her husband and devoted to the genetic betterment of farm livestock sprawled across one of its ridges. [How is is that we are interested in breeding better cows and chickens at the same time we bomb wheat fields?]

The origin of the present name of Greylock and its association with the mountain is unclear. It first appeared in print about 1819, and came into popular use by the 1830s. It may be in reference to its appearance, as it often has a gray cloud, or lock of gray mist upon his head, or in tribute to a legendary Native American chief, Gray Lock.[18] Gray Lock (c. 1670-1750) was a Western Abenaki Missisquoi chief of Woronoco-Pocomtuc ancestry, born near Westfield, Massachusetts. Gray Lock distinguished himself by conducting guerrilla raids into Vermont and western Massachusetts.[19]

Derrick Jensen’s works speak of forging an orientation to and awareness of the indigenous people who once occupied the land you occupy.

The Mahican people were closely associated with this region, and it was easy for a child weaned on “Light in the Forest” to imagine himself a Mahican as he walked, ran and sat in contemplation.

One day when I was about 12, I set on my haunches on the edge of a brook, lost in the thoughts facilitated by the continuous burble of the run-off from the rain forest.

A bobcat came down the to the edge of the stream to drink its fill.


I wasn’t afraid. It looked up at me suddenly when it discovered that I was there too, but I instantly and silently telegraphed a message that I meant it no harm. It turned back to its satiation, and then disappeared as suddenly and quietly as it came.

Years later, I sat with my back against the warm granite shelving of Pemaquid Point and listened to the waves as I basked in the sun. I think the expression “lost in reverie” is appropriate; I was on the way home from a three-day honeymoon trip up the coast of Maine to Acadia and back. I’d shown the future mother/grandmother the loveliness of Mount Desert Island.  I still kick myself when I think about the fact that we couldn’t find the way to buy that 10-acre plot of land at the northern-most tip of Somes Sound. But coastal Maine has lots of magic to be found in it, and that afternoon it sent me a message. I’ve written about that moment several times. It was an epiphany.

The message I got in an instant, downloaded at quantum speed, was that I was part of it all, and I was it, and that it was me, and that I was “here” for it, and that it was “here” for me.


“Rupert Ross, a Canadian lawyer who has worked most of his life on the northern reserves in Ontario, also writes about the sensitivity and open attitude required to learn what he calls “pattern-thought,” the ability to take in vast amounts of information from the natural world (70).”

Derrick Jensen has written an entire book on this called “Listening to the Land”, “conversations with environmentalists, theologians, Native Americans, psychologists, and feminists, engaging some of our best minds in an exploration of more peaceful ways to live on Earth.”

Michael Murphy and others have delved deeply into the ways in which the human mind can connect with the cosmos; I think in particular of “In The Zone” and The Future of the Body, “a massive historical and cross-cultural collection of documentation of various occurrences of extraordinary human functioning such as healing, hypnosis, martial arts, yogic techniques, telepathy, clairvoyance, and feats of superhuman strength. Rather than presenting such documentation as scientific proof, he presents it as a body of evidence to motivate further investigation.”  [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Murphy_(author) ]

Ron sent me something on remote viewing, too.

optimal human function

Guest Post:

Human intelligence or human awareness?


By Robert J. Burrowes

The human organism, at birth, is capable of becoming an integrated whole. And it is only by becoming an integrated whole that it can function optimally. What does this mean?

In order to function optimally, the human organism requires that all mental functions – feelings, thoughts, memory, conscience, sensory perception (sight, sound, touch, smell, taste), truth register, intuition… – must all be developed and readily involved, without interference, in our life. If this happens, then all of these individual functions will play an integrated role in determining our behaviour in any given circumstance.

Under these conditions, the behaviour that would be generated should not be described as ‘intelligent’ or as ’emotionally’ or ‘sensorily’ driven: such behaviour should be described as ‘aware’ because it is based on a synthesis of all of the feedback our various mental functions can give us and the judgments that arise, in an integrated way, from this feedback. If we prioritise one function as more important, if we suppress our awareness of one or more functions (for any reason), then we disable a part of our holistic functioning to our detriment.

Many modern humans like to think that we are ‘intelligent’ and that it is this intelligence – which is somehow supposed to have superseded something more ‘primitive’ and ‘instinctive’ – that makes us ‘superior’. I believe it is the fact that humans have the potential to be integrated – making optimal use of millions of years of evolutionary pressures in so many respects (and which produced colour bifocal vision, for example) – that defines our true potential. I also believe that we are well short of reaching this potential so far, with the exception of the rare individual.

In brief, it is clear to me that I am more complete if I am ‘aware’ of and utilise all aspects of my being in an integrated way. If I am fully aware, then I learn quickly and easily or insight simply ‘drops’ on my being when I need it. There is no ‘work’, such as ‘thinking hard’, involved at all. Unfortunately, human socialisation works against the development of awareness by suppressing the development of vital mental functions. I will illustrate this point by discussing emotions.

Evolution has given each human being, at birth, the potential to develop a diverse range of emotions as one part of the sophisticated capacity they can use to respond immediately and appropriately to each unique circumstance that unfolds throughout their life. Unfortunately, human socialisation (which I call ‘terrorisation’) and, particularly, the ‘invisible’ and ‘utterly invisible’ violence that this entails, systematically destroys the human capacity to utilise emotional responses beyond those very few which are socially acceptable in the cultural context.

See ‘Why Violence?’



‘Fearless Psychology and Fearful Psychology: Principles and Practice’ http://anitamckone.wordpress.com/articles-2/fearless-and-fearful-psychology/ 

For example, if you prevent a child from behaving in accordance with their fear, they have no choice but to suppress their awareness of this fear. And this has disastrous consequences for the individual and, therefore, for us all.

In contrast, if we let children have their feelings from birth, and act on them as part of their integrated Self, no one would acquire the vast backlog of unfelt feelings which we then need to spend enormous energy fearfully suppressing for the rest of our lives while they continue to generate a phenomenal array of dysfunctional behaviours. This ongoing suppression, of course, only exacerbates our individual and collective dysfunctionalities frightfully and now manifests, for example, in having us on the brink of precipitating our own extinction, which I would have thought is quite unintelligent as well as being unaware.

The irony, of course, is that if you ask the most serious advocate of the ‘intellectual’ human thesis ‘When is the last time you had sex because it was a good idea?’ most of them would look at you as if you were mad. Even the ‘intellectual’ human advocates concede that feelings have their place, as long as they are ‘good’ feelings!

The problem is that modern human society is utterly antithetical to a wholesome human existence – what child wants to sit, bored out of their brain, in school all day? – but we can only make modern humans into compliant slaves by terrorising them into suppressing their awareness of how they feel and what they think. If we didn’t do this, an aware child would try school for ten minutes, promptly proclaim it boring and walk out. But we aren’t going to give children that much freedom are we? If we did, they might learn something for themselves that we don’t want them to learn! Freedom is too frightening: better to talk about it but do something totally other. Or limit ‘freedom’ to ourselves which, of course, makes it meaningless.

The Self-aware human being is intelligent because their mind is integrated. In contrast, an ‘intelligent’ individual who is unSelf-aware, because their mind is disintegrated, might engage in activities that are destructive of our species and the planet. I am sure that you can think of many examples.

If you wish to join the worldwide movement to end all violence and to create Self-aware individuals, you can sign online ‘The People’s Charter to Create a Nonviolent World’ http://thepeoplesnonviolencecharter.wordpress.com

The potential to achieve Self-awareness is an evolutionary gift. It must be nurtured. It is easily destroyed.

Robert J. Burrowes

Robert J. Burrowes has a lifetime commitment to understanding and ending human violence. He has done extensive research since 1966 in an effort to understand why human beings are violent and has been a nonviolent activist since 1981. He is the author of ‘Why Violence?’

His email address is flametree@riseup.net
and his website is at http://robertjburrowes.wordpress.com



Cray-vin for Moneyball

June 12, 1939

Ladies and gentlemen, I was born 1874, and this organization was started was 1876. When I was just a kid I said, “ I hope some day I’ll be up there playing in this league.” And by chance I did. Now Connie Mack the gentleman that preceeded me here at the mike, I remember walking fourteen miles just to see him play ball for Pittsburgh. (crowd laughs) Walking and running, or hitchhiking a ride on a buggy, them days we had no automobile. I certainly am pleased to be here in Cooperstown today, and this is just a wonderful little city, or town, or village or whaever we’d call it. It puts me in mind of Sleepy Hollow. (crowd laughs) However I want to thank you for being able to come here today.



I don’t make speeches. I let my bat speak for me in the summertime.






I keep my eyes clear and I hit ’em where they ain’t.”

Source: Baseball’s Greatest Quotations (Paul Dickson, 1991)



Mystery MLB Team Moves To Supercomputing For Their Moneyball Analysis

Posted by timothy on Saturday April 05, 2014 @06:08AM

from the stats-nerds-with-bats dept.

An anonymous reader writes

“A mystery [Major League Baseball] team has made a sizable investment in Cray’s latest effort at bringing graph analytics at extreme scale to bat. Nicole Hemsoth writes that what the team is looking for is a “hypothesis machine” that will allow them to integrate multiple, deep data wells and pose several questions against the same data. They are looking for platforms that allow users to look at facets of a given dataset, adding new cuts to see how certain conditions affect the reflection of a hypothesized reality.”

Read the 51 comments

baseball supercomputing cray





Hirsch, James S., Willie Mays: The Life, the Legend (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2010).


If you can do that – if you run, hit, run the bases, hit with power, field, throw and do all other things that are part of the game – then you’re a good ballplayer.

Willie Mays


Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/w/willie_mays.html#huppTe05YXSZxwyK.99





“Baseball is like church. Many attend, few understand.”

Leo Durocher


“Blood Pressures in Children Between the Ages of Five and Sixteen Years”, American Journal of Diseases of Children, volume 69, no. 4:203-207; primary author, A. W. Graham, M.D. (University of Maryland, 1905) ( Bats: Left, Throws: Right )

(December 28, 1879 – August 25, 1965)

 “His was a life of greatness.”

Veda Ponikvar in her classic editorial


Giamatti explores the intricacies of the baseball field’s dense geometry:

Squares containing circles containing rectangles;  precision in counterpoint with passion; order compressing  energy. The potentially universal square, whose two sides are foul (actually fair) lines, partially contains the circle, whose  radius is at least four hundred feet and whose perimeter is  the circle of the fence from foul line to foul line, which contains   the circle of the outer infield grass, which contains the  square of the diamond, containing the circle of the pitcher’s  mound and squares of the three bases. The circle of the mound contains the rectangle of the pitcher’s slab and faces  the circle of the home-plate area, which contains the rectangles   of the batter’s boxes and the area for umpire and catcher.  At the center of this circle, and existing in eternal tension with the pitcher’s rectangle-seemingly the center of power.[x]

On this square  tipped like a diamond containing circles and contained in  circles, built on multiples of 3, 9 players play 9 innings, with  3 outs to a side, each out possibly composed of 3 strikes.  Four balls, four bases break (or is it underscore?), the game’s  reliance on “threes” to distribute an odd equality, all the  numerology and symmetry tending to configure a game  unbounded by that which bounds most sports, and adjudicates  in many – time.[xi]



“Home” plate has a “peculiar significance for it is the goal of both teams… In baseball, everyone wants to arrive at the same place, which is where they start.”[iv]  The choice of the term “home”, rather than “fourth base” is significant:

Home is an English word virtually impossible to translate into other tongues. No translation catches the associations, the mixture of memory and longing, the sense of security and autonomy  and accessibility, the aroma of inclusiveness, of freedom  from wariness, that cling to the word home.[v]






It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.

A. Bartlett Giamatti – “The Green Fields of the Mind” in Yale Alumni Magazine (November 1977)






Baseball and Mathematics 

by Marvin L. Bittinger 







People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.

Rogers Hornsby


Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/r/rogershorn104218.html#cIf8HOftkrduVrmX.99