Such a Loss

A book has found its way to me. Typee by Herman Melville. I have read many by him, so this is a treat finding another, and what is said to be one of his best. One of the first things I do with a book is look at the dates, but none are on this book anywhere. No hint it was written in 1846. I have found several stamps though, it is from Oceanside High School in California. In the back is a card for the library it lived in, in the 1950's. Those first ten years it got a lot of usage. A wonderful sea tale, full of adventure and the exotic and the realities of life, written to perfection. Then comes the early 60's where it shows another 3 years and no more history than that. Hardly read at all during that time, no longer recommended by the teachers I would think, or no students who desires these sort of stories anymore. I wonder why this beautifully bound book, full of color illustrations was sent away. Maybe it is the picture inside the front cover, a beautiful dark girl, in a long clinging skirt with a wreath of flowers not quite covering her naked femininity, smoking an opium pipe while standing in a canoe being admired by the man she is with. "Fayaway and I had a delightful little party on the lake", is what its title is. Not a good influence on such young minds, perhaps those who pick and choose the school books thought. I open the book to glance in, there is one of Melville's favorite words, heathen. I saw that just the other day, the word heathen. In my old Webster dictionary, as the first description for the word ethnic. I never really thought them the same. Its strange how what we read and what it is suppose to mean is so arranged. And then always rearranged by the times and how our society guides us. Perhaps after I am gone and this book no longer has my shelf, it will end up where so many more like it have gone, disappeared and forgotten. How sad, it really is a treasure. And how sad the world, so anxious to go head long into a future that does not value such things.

Fence Around Their Heart

The reason why life is so much better in Mexico is because there is heart. Many will ask, what is heart? An organ? The symbol of love? But most don't know it is a place inside you were you are connected to the goodness of mankind. It keeps life beautiful, warm, friendly and progressive. Having heart. It is what keeps families what they were meant to be and villages running. Heart is something you have to be close to, or you won't know it is there. Here in Mexico, it is what so much of lifes decisions are based on.

One may look at the problem of America as politics and a bad leader and corporation greed. But this describes most countries. Politics is just that fragmented layer on top for the few to use the many out of their need for direction. For the many, life is not politics, it is just every day existence, no matter what the "big guys" up above are making. Here in Mexico we are not our government, we are the people of the land. The land and history, a way of living that has seen the centuries pass and still persists. In America, what the threat is to the world, is loss of heart. A submission to better shape oneself to the needs of your controllers. The mind brainwashed, not enough, they must drain their society of heart, of care, because care for those type always stands in the way.

America is without a heart. A land raped and captured so very recently the wound still bleeds and festers everywhere. And on such a base, its people have become the world leaders in living for oneself only. In Americas search for itself it has narrowed down to its own needs like there is no other. This is government down to the individuals. Somehow, the formula to take the human out of humanness had been extracted and now the latest weapon to enslave mankind. The world beware heartless America, unless it become like it and die from within also.

(this post inspired by one who has no fence around her heart, living in America, proof that one can still hold onto it if they want)

The Last Time

I was just wondering when the last time I had been across the border into America. And then, coincidence as usual, I find this post below, dated February of 2004. It was my last time there. So far, good luck, I don't have to cross again. Hopefully never.



I went to California yesterday, early in the morning. It is not far from here,about seventy five miles. So many worlds away though. Knowing your going to cross the border is something I can't let myself think about until just as you get there. The thought of how long the line is can ruin a beautiful drive if allowed to. And it really was unusually beautiful yesterday, the waves were so big and so many sets rolling in with the morning sun on them. White and foamy and clean. The highway goes along the edge of the ocean the whole way, except the last few miles through the side of Tijuana along the big fence with all the lights. I wonder why they leave the lights on during the day. I have three toll booths to go through, each over two dollars. One of the toll takers gave my dog a piece of burrito. The soldiers had on new spring uniforms. They are so young and look good.

The border line was only twenty minutes,compared to a couple of hours or more frequently. The lanes keep breaking up and everyone has to fight for their place so it is exciting, or sometimes, very annoying. The guard was the type that takes extreme offense when they ask why you are in Mexico, and you answer because you live there. It is better to say I am a tourist and I am so glad to be coming back home and take a good bath. But it was to early for that story. Besides, lying can get you caught up too. So he asked us, my husband and I, for what purposedid we cross the border. He was told because we have to get the smog check done on my mothers car. He asked for proof of this story. I gave him the papers that came in my mothers mail, they were in the envelope they gave us to be mailed in. He looked at it and said something. My husband missed understanding his unknown accent. He loudly repeated, then if your going why is the envelope sealed, and then handed itback. My husband flipped it over and said to him, look it is not sealed. He went into a rage, told us how to respect America and then told us to get out of there fast. That over we went to the nearest Mexican restaurant and had breakfast and cinnamon coffee, just to get back in the right mood.

The smog check went great. Funny sort of people who work at gas stations and stand around looking at car motors. I took the dog for a walk around a couple of blocks. The landscaping on every house was different. It was an old neighborhood so the trees were big. Incredible green lawns, such a variety of grass types. I felt like I could have just kept on walking for hours looking at it all. Excess excess excess.

After that things went bad. I need a huge rice cooker for my dogs. I went into two of those huge stores that when you stand at the entrance it becomes near terrifying, the thought of trying to narrow it down to the one thing you came for. More excess and unnecessaty, baskets totally full, people eating samples, lines a longer wait then the border was. No rice cooker, but I gathered up a few things that I thought might save some money, if I had really needed them. Then my time limit ran out for a situation like that and I had to abandon the cart in the middle of the store and escape, my husband in agreeance. There was even a line getting out of the parking lot. So next I tried a grocery store but did not even get out of the car after seeing the odd looking strikers out front. Exhausted I went next door to a Starbucks. There were homeless looking for change in the phone booth, a girl with a child walking with a please hire me I am hungry sign on her. A small booth set up to fingerprint children to help when they are abducted being run by a girl with orange hair and rings in her tongue and eyebrow and a betty boop tatoo revealed by her very low blouse. At least the coffee was good.

Giving up on all else my husband and I decided to get back across the border. I forgot to mail the envelop for the DMV. That border guard must have jinxed it with his touch. I hate lying to my mother, but I have not confessed it is still in the car, complete now, but still not on the way with the deadline so close. The moment I crossed the border my whole body changed, relaxed, breathed easy. Driving along looking at all the border jumpers all along the fence waiting for their chance I felt so sorry for them and so glad I was back home again.Then the whole drive back and the ocean the whole way. By the time I got back home I was healed again knowing that I don't have to put up with that sort of thing. At least not until my mother has another one of her it has to be done in California errands for me. Think I will go stand out in the rain and almost sunshine right now just to wash this last little bit of memory away as I post this.

Stunned

Strange people. It makes one wonder. Friends, enemies. Causes. Competitions. Its all quite a show. Leave your body behind and come play in cyberspace where you can narrow yourself down to a character you want to be in a mind story. Whatever your need, you can build it. For many it is more important to have an enemy, such a simple thing. The need to dislike what you think you dislike, just find a place to lay it on it. Preferably something familiar, that is the easiest. Like the last person you called friend, or the last place you liked and then didn't. So much pain, so much frustrationn, it needs a place to find a home to run to its ruin, as is the habit.

Grabbing hold of petty differences, false interpretations, twist and turns,convoluting what was, into what it never was. It's a big river, the flow to freedom from the oppressor, the rights of every man. If we are headed the same way, why search the edges to find the differences and get snagged on them. Those who have heart can read the hearts of others and know their truths behind their words, no matter how they are arranged. Such wasted effort, trying to bring down a fellow traveler.

We who claim we want peace and healing, if we cannot get along with each other,despite the fact that we are not all the same, have made ourselves a determent. Getting along, world wide or one on one, starts with getting along. So simple. And if you find a place you feel does not fit your idea of getting along, then go elsewhere. But becoming one of those who want to ruin what others have, it would seem, makes you more like the enemy than not.

Some More on Hate

In response to Littlebitofsonshines comment on my Hate Well message. To me, this is a very important subject.

I feel you are one of those rare gifts to mankind, Sonshine. It is good to be able to know a person like you and I wish many more were like you. All love and giving. But for the average human we have both and fight to deny one, or the other. Love and hate. We are taught that it is our hate that makes us do wrong, but this is not so. As you can see, love has equal crimes. Love or hate can become a disease, just the same. Energy does not kill, only when it is misguided and misused. It is neither love nor hate that makes us do wrong, it is how we handle them. It is a mistake to think that hate must lead to negative actions. It is the person themselves and who they are. I would not feel right not hating evil, it is what it deserves, my strongest emotion of rejection, nonacceptance. Hate, like love, is used by the few to manipulate the masses. If we are followers and use either for destruction, it is our own fault for being ruled.

I have spent my life helping to better others. I have never done an evil thing out of hatred or out of love. I am very proud of who I am and what I do. I hate America and I hate those that accept it and aid it. I do not want to make wars or harm people. I do not fight that way. Hate has made me take a stand against what I cannot approve of and has given me the strength to find a way of life I could love and respect.

I fear it is the loss of our ability to cleanly and clearly hate that has enabled the people of America to live a near guiltless life in the middle of all that harm and killing they do. They know its wrong, but it does not make them that uncomfortable. If they hated what their country has become they would do more than just feebly protest through the decades, they would not be able to live with it either.

I have no love whatsoever for that country, my hate has the chance also of healing what's wrong with America. It should be hated for the evil it has become and let that very hate it has brought on itself take care of it.

Something Positive

Inspired by a little red fish.

I like it so well when it’s the full moon here. Night diving is perfect in the light of a full moon. It filters down through the water and illuminates the shadows. Lobsters don't come out during this time, they prefer darker nights. Its odd how lobsters and eels always hang around together, I suppose they must like the same kind of housing. Ever catch an eel? They practically tie themselves in knots squirming on dry land but cant get anywhere. I've seen them snap there jaws so hard it took a chink out of a steel blade. They're good to eat but a little greasy. Lobster is better but you have to cook them live to taste just right. Of course if they are dead before you get home you can slice them in half and fry them. But you cant freeze a dead lobster, they taste bad. Its odd on a lobster trap how if you wire a hunk of zinc to the bottom all the corrosion gathers on it instead of the trap. Low tides and small waves are best for lobster traps, you can get them in real close to shore. Of course you have to count the waves to do this and time it just right. Lobsters like to eat limets, the little oval shell that sticks to the rocks. Of course they like abalone best, but its to much of a temptation to eat it yourself. It takes about an hour to gather a gallon of limpets. It takes about two gallons of limpets to bait about 20 traps. With crabs its a lot easier. Of course their traps have to be put on a sand bottom. They really like fish guts and heads. When all else fails either lobsters or crabs will eat canned sardines in tomato sauce. All you have to do is poke holes in the cans and wire them in the trap. Cabazones are a great fish. They hang out near the rocks. There meat is blue till you cook it. They have no scales but if they poke you it stings. They make really good eating but not as good as garabaldi, the gold fish of the sea. California's state fish. Seems a shame to eat one almost, they are so beautiful. Cabazones are the ugliest fish I have seen, except for a dog shark. Cook them and they turn to mush, animals won't even eat. But the tastiest fish is manta rays. The wings off of them is better than lobster. Sheephead, half black and half red with their huge buck teeth for eating shells are a good catch because there is a lot of meat but it lacks flavor. And of course the fish from sand bottoms is always a little blander and softer. Like halibut and sea perch. But its nice to fish for them because you can stand in the surf. Then too you have a chance of getting a tiger shark or a skate. But halibut since they live on the bottom and eat trash have those long worms in their meat always. Now if you have a gill net out you can catch all kinds of things. Thresher sharks, sea bass, ling cod, cabrillo and tunas. But tunas are good to catch with a pole from a skiff, it goes fast. The scariest thing to bring up in a small wooden boat is a shark. They're hard to kill in a crowded space. Drop lines work good for rock cods and corvina. Its hard to keep the seals away from this though, unless you clang rocks together under the water, this hurts their ears. A good way to get what you want and take your time is to use a hookah. A line hooked to an air pump on land, but you have to remember to put mineral oil in it so you don't get petroleum in your lungs. Good way to look for abalone too. The red abalone sell the best, mild and soft. The blacks ones which are in closer are tough and chewy with a strong flavor. I like these best. Certain abalone guts are really good to eat too, the ones that have ate the right sea weed. Certain crabs to if when you pull them out of the cooker and turn them on there backs to open them will have a hot soup inside them that goes great with lime and hot sauce. Just like sea urchins, just take them by there purple spines and crack them open on the spot, a little lime juice cooks them and you have an instant snack. The orange color of their insides is such an odd shade. Urchins are worth a lot of money and well worth collecting. The deeper the water the bigger they get. You can store them in cages in the ocean for days and feed them till they are full so you get more money. The Japanese buy them. They fly them there. Japanese also buy the abalones they are raising commercially now too. But my all time favorite is just plain blue shark. I never get tired of it. Besides I like to collect their jaws. Now this talk of fish could just go on forever. I remember seeing a dammed pond from an underground spring out in the middle of high desert and it was brimming full of gold fish big enough to eat. Never figured how those fish got there. The Indians sure liked them. But like I said the subject of fish is never ending.

Hate Well

What is this word called hate and why do so many think it is wrong? It is a force, like love, a full circle. I think that the common man has been taught that he is not suppose to feel hate and if he does he has sinned. And the common man, of course, does not want to sin. So he takes the right to his own powers and forfeits one and becomes the weaker for it. Hate constructively, love constructively, live constructively, and fully. Your owners, the rich and few, do not want you to hate, they tell you to love, even your enemy. As a society we have become afraid of hate, its not polite or acceptable or quite civilized enough for our refined and filtered and confined tastes. We are constantly drummed into our minds, love not hate. But they come together, strong and useable and must be handled with balance and understanding. It is correct to hate evil and it is correct to love good. We do not need to let our hate turn us into killers and liars and destroyers, even as those that use love for that same purpose. We, as a people, need to take back our human right to hate openly and positively that which is wrong, or we cannot stop it with half felt measures. There are many things I hate and that hate has stood me to make many of the right decisions in my direction in life that have been very positive. Hate well.

Simple is Better

Simple, the word I build my life around. It is because I have found out simple is better and I like life good. Simple brings more pleasure and meaning. I tried life in America a time or two, but simple can't apply in a country that is so fragmented and exaggerated. Nothing is quite right and it makes you want to search for the next thing. Like you might be missing something if you don't. Excess wieghs heavy and there is always a heavy price for carrying it.

One of my most thankful things in life, the one I am always saying to myself, how lucky I am, is that I chose Mexico for my country to be part of. It just suits my natural sense of freedom and justice and rarely bumps up against my sense of invasion that America bombards ones mind and rights with by the minute. Being American is like a mental illness that clouds ones vision to the point of delusional and gullable. It is laughable when one looks at what Americans think is the good life. Making their life their jobs so they can support the payments on what they already have and hardly have time for and don't really need. All those complicated things to make life easier and more desirable for them. Americans idolize their rich and will go to any lenghts to imitate them in their own lives and do that while they curse those rich for being what they are. So many things are mixed up about this nation of failed people.

Here, poor is respected, it just means you don't have much money. In Mexico you can be very poor and live very well. In America, being poor means failure and exclusion and shame. The lives of the poor in the state of Mexico I live in are very good happy full lives. They take their enjoyment from family and nature and the daily routines of life. They are in balance and it shows. Very good people here in Mexico. And for this I can still go on believing in the human race bettering itself. For if it was left to judge mankind by America and its spread, one would have to truthfully say it is an ugly experiment. A type of people who must always consume more and more, focus on them ownselves only, and not be able to learn from outside sources has its own doom built in.

Its strange how I am 75 miles away from the scar of the border to America and life is what it should be, and then cross it and the world becomes ugly and hostile and selfish and no principals. It is so easy to recognize an American, there is nothing else like them, even their imitators can't get it down totally.

A complicated mess.

Many Roads

Checking out the wastelands of yahoo as I do every now and again I found this complaint on my messenger from an angry young man. He writes rather well, being pushed by so much hostility, although he lets his imagination get out of bounds a little to often for the sake of making it sound worse to himself.

I learned on yahoo that most people think progress is conflict. If your not outdoing the next with the brilliance of your argument, your loosing, and the purpose is to win. I watch these type come into Further Left Library and Chat Room. They say, Ok, I'm here, what are we going to debate about? Then I tell them, no, we are here to get along. This is a shocking concept to them. How can getting along solve problems and bring peace and healing? They say we must disagree, divide up our differences and thrash them out until we are enemies and only focus on those fragmented differences, we thrive on conflict. This is how the American mind has become, the only answer, fight.

I experimented once with fighting on yahoo, jump on whoever I could and rip into them. It was always the same, no one changed, nothing came of it, but a few thrills for saying what I have always wanted to those American idiots and fools. But I don't sit still and saw the dead end. The progress with being with a few people you trust, exploring and learning the truths of this confusing times and helping each of us to respread them in our own ways is a treasure. As Pocho said in the blog Forum in the article titled We Are the Message, this use of the internet to form small groups of people who are dedicated to change, when all accumulated amounts to a massive force. This force, the message from the truth tellers, could very well overwhelm the evil that is at this moment overtaking us. If we can't get along with each other, how can we work towards peace? I would much rather have a home base in cyberspace to work from than a battlefield of monotony and uselessness to dump my beliefs. There are many roads to making change.

And now to take a moment to reply to this overeducated underlived young mans effort on scolding me for not being what he wants. I would call my beliefs Old age, not New Age. Dating back thru time to what is simple. Live your beliefs or they are nothing but talk. If you believe in good, be good. Respect is one of the most important things we can offer the world and its people. Politics and Religion are traps of the power hungry and not to be believed in, but guarded against. They do not hold the answers to life and getting along. And as to his suggestion below that I am too pathetic to live, no wonder he has turned to politics as his religion. I am sure this young man has much time and money wrapped up in being schooled for his opinions and I hope someday life can teach him where those opinions really belong, and that he get can on with all we really have, today.

Below, I post his message, out of interest of what is in the minds of these sorts. Attack mode only, so American, even when they are in France.

You're full of new-age spiritual mumbo jumbo - that is, garbage, complete garbage. Truer spot inside yourself? You're so self-righteous and self-important, and when I ask you for answers, you have none. You tell me "to be part of something good you have to be good", but you aren't something good. You're completely full of shit. All this "i live life according to my beliefs" doesn't mean shit, at all. You think you're a rebel because you somehow live life according to your principles? That's nonsense. I'm not giving you a bad boy attitude, I'm just asking questions that you are completely incapable of answering.
Getting along will not change anything, and that isn't your interest. Conformity is what this is all about, and you want people to have your opinions. You don't understand the world and what's needed in the world. What's needed is more conflict, but you can't deal with that. Everything you do and say is anti-democratic, it's fascist. Those who won't say what you want them to say, who won't repeat your droning beliefs are EXCLUDED, that's the opposite of freedom, liberty, it's the opposite of justice, it IS fascism. You think you're in a privileged position but you're nowhere
And, politics and economics ARE everything when it comes to change. What else is there? The revolution is either political and economic, or it's nothing. "Living life according to your principles"? THAT'S COMPLETE SELF-RIGHTEOUS NONSENSE. You think you're special in this world, and you're not, you have no answers or solutions. In fact, you want to completely ignore what's going on in the world, because you're too self-important to care about anyone but yourself. You don't see how many people in the world have it so so much worse than you, you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself to change anything.
If anyone, you're the one who's acting like it, you won't let anyone challenge your fragile little world, whereas I DEMAND conflict, I DEMAND to be challenged. But you can't take it. You're too pathetic to live.

And such are the words of the very angry and mixed up young man.

Drifting

I think I waited to late to become an adult. It seems to take practice and I skipped it to long. It seems like I took my retirement first then starting out in life to make it secure and productive towards some end or other now that I am old. At least that is my story to myself today, because I have not been responsible, again. Taking care of life as a thing used to get where you want to go is very tricky and you have to learn your own rules, even if its just to break them. It is hard to do what is called working, doing your job, making money. Or at least it is for me, because it seems to take time. That's the hardest part, where do you fit that in, work? But as I had found out, one can't go too many decades without settling down to what's ahead without missing something that should be part of it all. But its so easy to put off work, when you are your own boss, especially if you aren't a boss.

Another day in Mexico passes, the last of the sunset set streaked with deep red and the piece of moon showing will be a deep orange again tonight because of the hills burning from fires started on their own from heat and dryness. I have drifted away from the news again, its so easy to do. Moving away from what is ugly and offensive. But my awareness has not dulled, one can feel the coming catastophre of the fall of America in the very atmosphere, like one of those surround sound speakers I have heard of. We get asked now and again what we contribute as humans, but is that really important, just as long as we don't take more than what is balanced? Real answers are simple, glaringly apparent when displayed plainly. What good are fine beliefs if you don't live them? What good is knowledge if your only going to repeat what you learned, not what you know because what you know is buried under all those fragmented layers of this so called schooling process.

I suppose the simple answer here is, I should be keeping track of work records before I forget again, instead of entertaining myself with my blog. I am not sure what I have accomplished in life so far, but whatever it is, it makes me feel very good about who I am and what I do. If you cant be proud of yourself then you haven't lived right. But life never takes care of itself on its own from your past merits, you have to keep on trying. And that means always taking that chance to make your own life better and that of those around you, simply and respectfully and responsibly.

Now, hopefully, back to important work, if a puppy does not cry or a horn honk at the gate, or I misplaced the papers again. Plus I have to find the right working music too, hopefully that won't take long.

Grocery Stores

It sometimes feels strange when I think of grocery stores and what I need to get from them today while I am in town. They say it is cheaper. That was one of the exciting things about moving from the country, so many grocery stores. I sit here with pencil and a scrap of paper making a list. Mouse traps is all I can think of. I have salt and sugar, the soap has not run out yet. I need to get some food, there is really next to none in the house. But a grocery store off out in town, big and nice with near everything, is not a good place for that. I want four hot rolls from the bakery and they always have fresh milk, corn tortillas from the factory as they come off the conveyor belt. And lately there has been some just picked vegtables sold out of the back of a truck parked near the school. All this right in my own village. I could even walk, if I liked walking steep roads. And if I am in the mood, maybe the meat market, the man raises his cattle out in the hills behind me. Or the harbor out front, to see what has come in on the boats. Yes, strange, nothing really in those big stores, and I feel silly pushing a huge cart empty or with what I could have got right where I live, from a neighbor. Aisle after Aisle, wondering which one might have some real food. Plus, it makes my feet ache and exhaust me. Its seeing all that excess. Such a reminder of where man has got himself. Everywhere you look, we seem to be in a head long rush to change humanity into something I don't think was ever meant to be. Bottled, canned, packaged, our food and our minds, for easy use. The further you move from simple the further you get from whats good and right. Maybe some might think shopping in those shrines to excess gives them freedom of choice and expression, but I think it compromises a person to consummerism. Which of course is oppression. The new form of oppression, excess american style.

Why Say That?

9/11 - Tragedy, or perhaps an opportunity to revel in another set of senseless deaths, Pocho?

I just read this comment on the Further Left Forum Site. ( http://further-left-forum.blogspot.com/ ) I suppose this must be war with words. This style of attack. Apparently it does not need to make sense or really be connected. It seems the object is to make an insult, the worst that can be brewed up, and then hurl it out, like jabbing in the dark with a sword.

These warnings to the oppressors of the world must be looked on as a form of victory. These very oppressors are the ones who make non violent messages useless to themselves. This so called 9/11 message got thru to the deluded, a little, and made them look around and realize the heroic America image had changed to one of being the worlds enemy, while they were off pursuing their personal needs. A few of them have even gone so far as to question why and with their limited vision wonder what they can do.

This is victory, the oppressor must be made aware of himself and the nation that spawns them stopped, before all is lost to the sweep of the deadly disease of Americanism.

It is not the deaths that are reveled in. That type of thing belongs to the soldier who is trained to commit them. What is applauded is the attempt, the reason and the fact they scored. If only America could hear what the world is telling them, but they can't hear. So the messages keep having to get louder. Americas choice, they could stop now.

If someone does not like the fact that 9/11 represents the fall of an evil empire and that many took heart in seeing it brought to its knees, they need not resort to the limiting remark it was just enjoyment of death itself that makes them feel that way.

With all the confusion going on in the world, and all the need to ban together to make the best of it, we need not make up the absurd to disagree with those we basically agree with. One should confront what is really behind the remarks they make of that sort that make no sense, but reveal much of those making them.

Tradgedy and victory always go together, you can't separate them.

No Sense of Good

Americans in their fragmented reality slip and slide between the meanings of their words. Lovers of loopholes. Yes, but you said, is one of their favorite retorts. I took your words to mean this or that, is another. It is because their minds are so legal, wrapped up in a nation of legalities like a buffer against thinking on their own. Hanging onto each word like it is the point of the sentence. Taking which one they want, to run their next thoughts from. They examine so closely they can't see.

Copylefted. I learned this in Further Left Library Chat Room http://www.lagunanet.net.mx/pocho/ . It means take what you want or need, feel free, it's everyones. Ahh, the American mind clicks, free, oh boy, that’s easy, no rules, so I don't have to have limits. I think I will just take their name too and pretend like I am them. Look, it says here in the fine print its ok to be unethical. What? They have asked me not to steal, I mean share, the name? What rights have they, how dare they. I will take what I want, I am American and that gives me as much right as I need.

Without that attitude, they would not be able to be making this much fouled attempt at taking over the world.

If your good, you sense what is right and wrong, you don't look for wiggle room to try to still make yourself look good when you are not. If you know what low life sneak is you wouldn’t be imitating one and then trying to excuse yourself by saying, it’s the wording, it let me do it. No sense is what is common in America, no sense at all of what is right or decent or respectful. But then again, how could they, their country is criminal on almost every count. They don't want change, they just want to look good when they aren't.

Migra

I shook hands hello today with a man I met 15 years ago, or more. It brought back a rush of memories, as I was not expecting this encounter with him. And how far different it was than the time before. Just a polite hello and glad to hear life is going well for you while exchanging a few more pleasantries in the grocery store down town here in my part of Mexico.

The first time we met was at my home, the middle of the day with his gang of machine gun toting back ups from the Mexican Immigration Office. He was the important man there at that time. Suddenly they were surrounding my house, so nothing to do but stay and see what they wanted. My husband had been reported for working and he had no papers for it, being a "wetback" from the other side. We had been working for years, but had stepped on a rich mans ego and this was the weak spot where he could gain some of it back. A little bribe and his friend migra man was glad to take care of it, since we were breaking the law anyway. That’s the custom and in many ways not a bad one, if its not you getting the bad end of it.

Migra gave us two hours to get our business straight and then to report to his office where he was talking deportation. Instead of just loading us up right then and gone for good. But I love Mexico to much to get kicked out, so my husband and I went into hiding for eight months. Its good on the soul to get rousted from the everyday and thrown into what makes you wonder and look close. Provided you make it back around again and life goes on as you always intended it to.

The first week was the hardest. A cowboy camp on the riverbed, turned to shady dealings. Every sound was an alert to run and hide in the reeds. I left a book there for those times, inside a coffee can. And I also got covered with bites from some unseen thing that lived there only. I hardly ever get bites, it seems more like a character weakness. I saw a jeep with less than a hundred miles on it, taken on a joy ride from a San Diego car lot and drove straight across the border. No one ever came to get it.
And then from there, place to place, each with its own scene, its own view into a nation that holds so many secrets close to itself. On some Sundays my husband and I could go home, quietly and cautiously. That was Migras day off too. It would be a celebration, a get together of the village where news and encouragement was exchanged. And much laughter about how the great migra could not find two Americanos. And being Mexican, of course they never gave us up, not for a moment, none of them.

But after eight months, and harsher weather on its way, it seemed enough. My husband had the favor done for him of the use of a very influential lawyer, a Chinese man with an adobe house full of Chinese art. The only thing to do, turn ourselves in. It was hard to walk into that office, even with the assurance beforehand that we would be walking out still free, and no time behind bars and wondering what the sentence would be.

At that time too, we shook hands, the first time. He said, brave Americanos and sentenced us to a life of tourism, vacationing, exploring, fishing, partying, spending, whatever it is tourist all do. It said so on this official paper, and said there was no second warning or we would be gone for good. He was polishing the handle on his pistol the whole time, then stood up shook hands again, and said, your real lucky, this time.

But, of course, one must work for a living if they are not rich and Mexico is a practical nation and does not get hung up by their laws. So it was back home and back to work again. The rich man had long forgotten and the migra had better things to do.

I still kind of seem to feel the tingle in my hand though, for that brief moment when ours touched in that handshake today. Good thing Mexico believes in what is fair, not what is legal. He is such an impressive looking man still, very handsome and stern. I would hate to be doing anything really wrong and get caught by him.

Evil America

Exchanging thoughts with two minds I respect (in Further Left Chat, of course) I once again touched down on the horror of America. I journeyed thru the yahoo chats some time back, and saw a sampling of what it is to be American, living there and doing it. Where is their heart? Long gone in a game of trying to escape the guilt of being themselves and the heritage of their murderous and barbaric land. In Americas head long rush to possess bigger and better and to get what is theirs by their so called right of privileged birth, they have opened themselves up to their governments technique of turning them selfish so they cannot unite.

I read what the bad and ignorant had to say in the cesspools of yahoo. The Bush lovers and the war worshippers, earth destroyers, revelers in prejudices and greed. So obviously wrong, but not the only wrong. It is the ones that claim they are doing good that should be watched as well. The ones who spin the illusion of America the Great, the ones who say, it's not us, it's them, don't blame me, blame my system. Their belief in their pick and choose what part of America they want, to put their faith and pride in, is what keeps the country running and enables this evil. This nation needs to be put to an immediate end and anyone who hinders that is an enemy of the world.

I watched these empty hearted selfish do gooders. They make me fear for the future of mankind. To become aware of how they are is to touch on the sickness of their country, its internal rot, that spreads like a plague. They think living right is arranging your words to reflect what you think should be, not living what should be. They live a lie, everyone of them, and that lie has compromised each one as an individual.

I am sad, thinking of these Americans I met here in cyberspace and how each one seems to confirm the reason America is now a failure and a danger to the world. Weak people, easily led astray with their governments clamp on their ability to distinguish truth or fight for it. Live in America and all you can see is America, the rest of the world is just an ignored back yard to abuse as you want.

Shame on all you complaining hypercritical self deluded Americans. You need to look at yourselves, and improve that before you can expect to perform miracles on your used up country.

Oh well, at least I am here in my much loved Mexico, where life is so very good and free and living great just comes naturally. The day, warm and breezy, will soon overtake me, and that world of oppression and dreams gone wrong will fade away and once again life and living will be what it should. So many things to enjoy.

Machines of Loving Grace

It has been a week of computer challanges. I have managed a new computer, after too many oddities to deal with in the last. But this did not solve the problem, it has somehow transferred these oddities to the new computer. I like to think it must be me, not quite able to accept the modern world and its ways. But most likely, it is just computers, manmade and faulty and a sign of the times.

But, as with most things, this will pass and computer bliss is on its way soon, when all works right, my words fall from my mind just right on the page, and when clicking the publish button actually publishes the post, not makes it disappear into oblivion.


All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace
by Richard Brautigan 1968

I like to think (and the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers live together
in mutually programming harmony
like pure water touching clear sky.
I like to think (right now please!)
of a cybernetic forest filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully past computers as if they were flowers with spinning blossoms.
I like to think (it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal brothers and sisters,
and all watched over by machines of loving grace


A very interesting man that wrote this. Here is a few links to sites about him.
http://www.rooknet.com/beatpage/writers/brautigan.html
http://www.litkicks.com/BeatPages/page.jsp?what=RichardBrautigan

I like Sundays

Mexico is predicted to have more economic growth next year than its richer than anyone nation next door. It is hard to figure out what poor is suppose to mean. I thought if you made more, you were richer. But, as every good American mistakenly knows, Mexico is poor, dirt poor. Why else would its people come across their borders seeking work. But, of course, this makes Mexico richer, the flow of easy American money. Americans would go next door to work too if they heard the wages were higher. Just like they send so much of the everyday work to other countries to do for them, it makes more money. Seems like everyone is doing the same, going to where it makes you the most. Or, at least everyone that was not satisfied with what they had and had to do something else.

I think sometimes Americans picture a deserted Mexico, with all its workers over on their side, taking their unwanted jobs. But, to the contrary, this is a nation full of hard working people, with only a small percent making that sad trip. But there is more migrants than ever before, this is true, now that America has tipped so many balances and made the time on end lifestyle here unkeepable. America is the bringer of so much destruction in so many ways. Its not just their bombs and bullets that threaten humanity but their mentality. A nation of evil doers for the sake of getting what they think they want most. The American dream, their right.

And sitting here in Mexico surrounded by the so labeled poor, life fits so well. Making do, content, happy and not worrying. Life is so very good. How can these Americans sleep at night knowing they participate in this mass evil of their killer nation and its out of control rulers? A sick nation in its death throes, trying to bring all down around it in the name of their disease, greed, at its extreme. It is a chilling thought that such a place exists, the never ending conquest to harness the masses for use by the few, combined with the modern technology and modern brainwashing to do so. Perfect timing, and they are going for it first and fastest, like they were invented for it.

But it is Sunday, so I will leave my thoughts of such an ugly place here and just go on with my day like none of it exist. My husband is expected home any moment, with fresh baked rolls and, avacados. I have the papaya and tangelos all ready. Now just to boil a stick of cinnamon in the water for the coffee and all should be just right. Its so quiet here Sundays, you can feel it. Peace is the word that comes to mind.

The fields below

It's this extra dimension to existence that exists nowhere, that I can pinpoint, that I balance my life out with for the sake of being aware. Cyber Space. One more frontier. Maybe some day it will become more real than real. "But do you really know him? No, I have only met him in person". My computer world is all scattered right now, due to a break down and the welcome miracle of a new computer. But not all has fallen back in its familiar colors and places and more changes are yet to come. So I wait to gather it back up again and put my own order to it.

I wonder why when its so easy and good not to hear the news, why soon I will return to it. One time, for about 15 years, I almost heard nothing of the outside world. Even missed some of Americas continuous wars. What does it have to do with my life here in Mexico where one rarely feels the waves of the worlds events. For some, the truth is quite an addicting thing, the only thing that can really satisfy, good, bad or indifferent. I think that is why, when I could be safe in my mind from the worlds evil that America heads up, I come here to spend some of my day searching and learning that truth. But, what can I do with it? I have this feeling though, like water, truth spreads wherever it touches. And that truths, linked together with others truths, become stronger.

I feel clean and good. Contributing to America is one of the eviler things a person can do. And if you live there, that is what you do. Any good a person says they are doing within is just an illusion, all contributing to the lie of America. If help was to have worked, it would have long ago. All signs say it is on its way out in a very ugly and disgraceful manner. I feel good because I purposefully do not live in that country, even if it is the one most suited to making money and sustaining a lifestyle that all to many feel is where success is at. The goodness of living poor and simple in Mexico has manifested so much that I feel rich without money. What more could I want, than what I have. Except for perhaps a proper behaving computer.

Remembering a Zapatista slogan, Like the dews in the mountain tops, truth will trickle down to water the fields below.

Admiration

I saw another view of Mexico last night. For months now my husband has been working on remodeling an office building into a three room skin therapy clinic. His work was recommended to the woman doctor by my husbands business partner, the vet. And since this is a trusting circle of friends she told my husband to spend whatever was necessary to make it look professional and appealing. It just was finished yesterday, in time for last nights grand opening. All in pinks and shades of lavender and creams. Tile and glass bricks. Like something out of a cosmetic ladies dream. Certainly not my reality, where life is simple and unnecessity not a necessity. But still very beautiful, in that way.

A ways into this project more was revealed about the young doctor. We were wrong to think she was from a rich family, as often is the case here, and that they were backing her. She came to this state, Baja California, when she graduated. Her husband and mother worked to put her through school. She made a success here with a clinic in a small hospital. Then they sold the ranch in Guadalajara. And with careful planning it enabled her to rent an office in the most popular area, which is used by well to do and progressive Mexican women. Hussongs Plaza, the place to say you have been to.

My husband admires those who have made their own way, out of the little they started with. So he decided that he would go way beyond the work she asked for. He told me if she was going to make it with clientele like that it would have to be an extra special job. It was like a hobby for him, making each aspect its most. It seems so almost silly, a skin clinic and its perfection, in all that goes on in life that counts so much more in the scheme of things. But then again, it is one persons life and my husband just made hers greatly enhanced. These things make him feel so good. He has admitted, he spent much of his wages from her on materials that complimented the work done, not the on sale ones she wanted.

So here we are again, another job done and still wondering where to get the money to live daily life with and wondering where the next money will come from. It feels real good, its always been this way. And sitting there last night in the plaza patio with more then 50 people, drinking heavy red wine and mango margaritas listening to new age music watching a full skin treatment and body massage on a white lounge chair on the dance floor I realized once again how many sides of Mexico there are. Not just the rough and tumble easy living one I knew for so many years. But this is Mexico too, changed and modern. This is not me though, or my world, it was just a very brief glimpse and a good one. Great people, positive, well dressed, polite and fun loving. The doctoras evening was a total success. Her mother, husband and two sons, standing with her. It is so good to know if one wants to, they can do just as they planned. My admiration to her. And Mexico, for keeping its balance and being a country where life is so good.

No Running

Now, I have just read that American playgrounds are putting up signs that say, "No Running", for the safety of the children playing there. How far can one paranoid self indulged nation take itself? I suppose to extremes, is the answer. Judging from their American taste for extreme and what they think that might imply.But I also noticed the words No Running because it made me think of other things. I think that's what I have been saying to myself, no running. My life is scattered about my small piece of land. House one place, the office another, one shop over by my mothers little house and the laundry room. The secret garden and the vegetable garden. And out towards the view the dog yards and the park and little orchard. The guest house and then some more shops, or tallers as they are called here. Its a lot to make the rounds of, checking this and that, finding looking, working, watching. I always wanted my small world to look in on itself with a fence around it, all contained and having what I need to make my life full. So this is it, it happened. But it is a lot of walking. I think, what if I were like the rich, a house so big if I forgot one of my shoes it might take me a real long search of a mansion to see where it got lost. One might have to start running, just to cut the time down for those types of disruptions to the flow of having it all. But anyway, to get back where I started, I have decided even if life keeps growing so well, for safeties sake, I'm not going to be running either. Every time I do, the dogs keep thinking its a game and gang up on me. That is one of the problems of a dog pack.Life should be slow.

Got English?

I have stolen johnny patriots post from out of my emails today. A little view into where the American mind is heading. Here it is, in whole:"The Catholic church was a sinking ship. Then they embraced the Mexicans living here. I do not attend church anymore. My church started the two language service. Call me intolerant but English has always been the language of my church and of America and suddenly they want to do both English and Spanish. I guess I am intolerant! I am now a man without a church and a political party. Soon, if the powers to be have their way, I will be without a country. Got English?"As though America came tumbling out of creation speaking English and is meant to stay that way forever. In a nation that arranges the world for their use, there is such intolerance of change within their own. How have these government pampered people come to the conclusion because people migrate north to work, as they always have and will, that all is lost for them, their country ruined and their lives threatened.This is what their government wants, turmoil, mistrust, fear, anger, hate, and their all time favorite, terrorism. All within their own bounds. A weak and fragmented populace. Now to even mention the loss of their so loved church because of the language of the invaders being used. Stripped of all they were taught that what made them American. Now they are lost. Lost and so vulnerable, ripe, for their government to finish the take over of what once was the American dream. The unaccomplished dream, now dead and replaced by a very evil and dangerous government that threatens the whole world.But that is America, and one must be careful not to let it overshadow their own world if they do not live there. Which I don't. I am right here in Mexico, not far at all across that border, but worlds away. And it is my own world here that I have created, with my husband, that is my strenght and freedom. It is so very important to feel right in how you live, day to day.And for me, today has been a good one, once again. Even if I know so much of the world suffers and problems mount by the minute.

How to settle down to it

It seems so hard to write in one place, when it is meant for another, the leaps of cyberspace are so hard to grasp, so far from pen and paper. But soon this post will appear on my new blog and take its permanent home there. Its something I have thought about ever since first finding the computer to open to the world. Telling it, the world, who I am and how I live. What I say is one thing, and I say much, but so can anyone. It is how we are that has the real meaning to it. Like how could anyone ever feel good about themselves choosing to stay in a country as criminally insane as America and be part of it in any way. They can stage their acts of opposing and protestations, but they still live the life and support the country. Every time I stop and think about that I am writing for my blog, strange word that it is, it sets me back a little and my thoughts scatter. How delicate a task it can be to catch these things and set them down right. But for now, I am content, this making of my blog feels like progress. I wonder how long it will take to feel at home on it. For now, enough.

where did it go

everything just keeps disappearing, or never appearing in the first place.