Well, yes, it’s true. If you pay attention to “the news” (what I call “the olds”), there are all sorts of awful things going on, as usual, with the corporatized U.S. and global military industrial financial medico pharmaceutical complex responsible for most of it. Check out these two overviews, for example:
The “Exceptional” Character of America’s Armed Forces”
and
Oh wow, and check this out!
Robert Bales Charged: Military Scrambles To Limit Malaria Drug Just After Afghanistan Massacre
huffpost.com
WASHINGTON — Nine days after a U.S. soldier allegedly massacred 17 civilians in Afghanistan, a top-level Pentagon health official ordered a widespread, emergency review of the military’s use of a notorius anti-malaria drug called mefloquine.
Mefloquine, also called Lariam, has severe psychiatric side effects. Problems include psychotic behavior, paranoia and hallucinations. The drug has been implicated in numerous suicides and homicides, including deaths in the U.S. military. For years the military has used the weekly pill to help prevent malaria among deployed troops.
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Ye gods! So now we’ll blame everything on a single drug. Always, this positivistic, scientistic tendency to want to reduce any “effect” to a single “cause,” rather than recognize the entire polarized 3-D illusion that we collectively dreamed into manifestation as having reached its end game. The “money” has mostly been transferred to the top. The skies above, the waters and soil below poisoned. The “little people,” the 99.99% that the 01.1% call “useless eaters” are mostly demoralized, defrauded, dehumanized, murdered, raped, pillaged, obesified, medicated, apatheticated. Nearly obliterated. . .
Ah but no, not really, not quite. During this fabled year of 2012 we begin again, and this time, not just to Occupy, but to Inhabit.
Meanwhile, yes. Yes, I do. I do check it all out, all the godawful bad stuff, as one more hopefully clear and compassionate witness to the slow-motion catastrophe, while paying attention to centering practices daily — for me it’s yoga, chi kung, tai chi and walking with my dog, preferably in nature, especially, around here, in “Indiana” (i.e., In Diana! Greek Goddess of the woodlands!).
And . . . I pay attention as well to what appear to be interesting developments bubbling up from within that old corrupt system that is not just leaking, but rusting, flaying, and failing, fermenting! Like the revelation that Corzine gave “direct instructions” in a personal email to lift funds from customer accounts . . . Like the news that the Dallas Fed thinks the big banks should be broken up. And wow! americankabuki has now resumed detailing ongoing resignations from global financial institutions, with the total, as of today, at 450!
Okay, another week begins.
I was off-screen for most of the weekend, and now it’s gone, lickety-split.
When I wasn’t out walking with Shadow looking up for anomalies . . .
I was out starting to weed, spread manure, and plant beans and peas with Stephanie, Sarah and Jim in the GANG (Green Acres Neighborhood Garden) . . .
during this decidedly unseasonably warm, beautiful, luscious March, 2012, when the greens in the cold frame overwintered without even the top cover since January, and continued to offer their succulence for lunch, over and over and over . . .
The brassica greens too, so many overwintered, and sprung new leaves this past month. I stir-fried a bunch of their chopped leaves with last summer’s dried tomatoes for the potluck prior to last night’s gift circle meeting.
At our last gift circle meeting, Susan had offered her carefully mothered sourdough starter to the group, and brought some this time. She told us all about sourdough starters, and how they are a gift that keeps on giving, “gathering wild yeast” wherever they go. Here she is, handing her starter to Brian.
We joked about calling our circle the Wild Yeast Gift Circle.
On Friday night, I watched a netflix biopic: “American: The Bill Hicks Story,” the tremendous evolutionary struggle of a man with enormous appetites that, after only three decades, had already distilled into this marvelous riff:
Yes, Bill, thanks. It’s just a ride. All of it. All the good stuff and all the bad stuff and even all the glorious stuff. It’s all love, love, love.
Breathe, Ann, breathe.
