America and the Passing of the Shape Shifter

I was not going to write a blog today since I have a mountain of business to attend to, but the passing of David Bowie has brought some thoughts to mind. I was not a fan of Bowie. I found his voice annoying and his music simple and somewhat boring. However, I have been fascinated by his persona, or lack there of.

As America left the 60s, it, along with much of the Western World, was in an awful state of flux. Forgetting the politics, the psychedelic experiments had changed everything. Even those who did not participate in those experiments were changed by the art, the ideas and the spiritual aura that the acid days cast on the world. If you say you were unaffected, you are kidding yourself, unless you were living in total isolation in the Okefenokee Swamp. The effects of that era still resonate strongly.

We came out of that period a bit unhinged. The psychedelics, among other things, open you to possibilities. You can be who you want. Your choice, if you have guts enough to deal with the fallout from the choice. But, while this can be liberating, it is fraught with danger. Anyone who becomes aware of this freedom had best be centered, or they will find themselves buffeted about by a vast array of spiritual forces, some quite unpleasant, and often find that they no longer exist, not as a discreet, intelligent entity. They become, in essence, a shape shifter, bending and changing forms without direction. And, when given media promotion done by master manipulators, they become a kind of Pied Piper, leading mindless followers down aimless paths.

Bowie changed persona the way some change underwear. He was a semi-folkie, a psychedelic balladeer, a musical ET, a bisexual drag queen, a Nazi loving- coke snorting royalist, a devotee of experimental electronic music, a soul singer, a rocker, and, in the end, nothing but a rich celebrity, His choices of spirituality show the lack of direction as he wavered between the bizarre teachings of Tibetan Buddhism, with its strong emphasis on dark magic, and Crowley style occultism, which is a confusing blend of silliness topped with a threatening black magic aura.

For contrast, look at Stewart Brand, former Merry Prankster and acid head, now highly respected futurist and environmentalist. Or, look even at his old buddy Ken Kesey. Kesey, while never abandoning his mental and spiritual explorations, lived out his life in a most traditional way, as a dairy farmer and devoted family man.

The difference? Bowie never seemed to find a center, a firm place to stand as he went through the world and that, combined with the pressures of an entertainment industry that always demands new product to keep the sales up, lead him to become a simple shape shifter, a being who becomes whatever seems appropriate or advantageous at the moment. At the core, a shape shifter is nothing, the whim of ever changing circumstance.

Brand, Kesey and countless others, found a center. That does not mean becoming static. Change is the constant factor in the Universe, and I love the idea of re-inventing yourself from time to time, it keeps you fresh and energized. But, the question is this: do you decide how you want to change? Do you initiate the changes while operating from a solid core, from a centered self. Or do you allow yourself to be the whimsy of business managers, and, worse still, the creations of unpleasant spiritual forces? Not all spiritual beings, contrary to New Age beliefs, are benevolent, and if you constantly shift in the psychic winds, you lose yourself, and it is damn hard to find your way home. What is much worse is the damage you usually do to others, friends and family, for sure, but in the case of such a popular performer, especially during an era when his followers were as lost as he, the toll in damages can be very steep.

Still, the man was vastly influential, both socially and musically. I am very sure that is not a good thing, especially when true artists like Tom Waits and David Bromberg, Maria Muldaur and Lucinda Williams, incredibly talented men and women, true artists, are largely ignored.

American Sports - Bigger, Stronger is Not Always Better

I have watched, the last 2 days, the Tournament of Champions PGA event from Hawaii. More and more, golf is becoming a power game. How far you can hit it? How strong and how fit are you? These are often the major topics of the commentators. It is impressive to watch guys bang it out there 350 yards, but there is more to the game than that.

Proof? The leader is last year's phenomenon. Jordan Speith. Jordan is a slightly longer than average driver, barely longer than average. McElroy. Dustin Johnson, Jason Day and many other players can bomb it 40 and 50 yard past him, yet Jordan was player of the year, won the Masters and the US Open and finished 4th at the British Open and second at the PGA. How? Skill combined with thought. By planning the round, by being consistent and by being a fine chipper and a superb putter, he can more than  compensate for the lack of power. The Game is mental and he is as tough as they come. You win at Golf by avoiding mistakes, minimizing the effects of the bad shots everyone hits, and taking advantage of the opportunities that arise. Power, while nice, is not always an advantage. When long drivers are off and spraying the ball all over the course, they do not score well.

Golfers now, we are told, spend countless hours in the gym. If you want to do that. fine, I guess, but think of two things. First, the past greats of the game, for the most part did no such thing. Second, look at Bubba Watson. Bubba is as long as anyone, maybe longer, but by no means is he a great muscular guy. Actually, he is quite slender. Now, I am sure he does something to stay in shape, but his power doesn't come from hours in the gym. Instead, Bubba just seems to have an instinctual feel for how to get the most out of his swing. His power is the result of impeccable timing, each part perfectly coordinated to produce the utmost results.

An example of the limits of power and training is Tiger Woods. Tiger always had power, even when he was a skinny young man and that power, like Bubba's, came from the timing of his swing. Time went by, he became obsessed with fitness and muscle, and guess what? He got very little more distance. Then, as he became more and more bloated with muscle, the injuries started, and with each injury he spent more and more time in the gym. Finally, almost inevitably, he tore up his back. After surgery? Back to the gym, back to the course, and back to surgery, twice, and now, possibly through with the game. You can overdo exercise, and, unless you are planning a career as a power lifter, you need to use great care in the drive for power. Golf, like many other sports, is more that power.

Why this emphasis in Golf. Simple. They want to be as noticed and make as much money as other sports figures. Baseball and football, have over the years, placed more and more stress on power. The results? Season ending injuries in football  have become common. In the past, football players got beat up a lot but most made it through at least most of the year without catastrophic injury. Now, it is quite common for player to be out for the year before pre-season is over.

Same with baseball. Pitchers are constantly dealing with bad arms when in the old days, they pitched often, went deeper into the game (yes, they used to pitch the whole 9 innings, frequently). Position players got banged up and pulled muscles but missing months at a time was unheard of. Too much muscle is not a good idea. The building of unnatural muscle mass does not make you a lot stronger and those muscles are easy to tear. Also, in baseball, like golf, the drive for power causes other skills to falter.

Remember, in any sport, power is nice, to a limited degree, but how strong you are is not the issue. The important thing in any game of skill, especially at the professional level, is who wins.

America and its Southern Neighbors

I am confused about something, but of course that's nothing new. For my entire life, this Nation has concerned itself with Europe, the Mid-East and, to lesser degrees, Asia and Africa, We have, mostly, ignored our neighbors to the South. Why?

The only President I remember paying a lot of attention to the region is JFK, whose Alliance for Progress was a great idea that became lost in LBJ's Great Society and Viet Nam pushes. Oh sure, every now and then we give lip service to the area, mostly when a natural disaster occurs. Nixon did turn his attention to Chile but only to allow Kissinger to unseat and execute their properly elected President, Salvador Allende, a move that hardly won us friends. Clinton's NAFTA deal did nothing to help them or us. Our occasional mucking about in the affairs of Haiti has been disastrous for those poor folks. Mexico, who should be a dear friend, is only thought of when we get riled about illegal immigrants (they have been coming here to work farms as long as we have had farms) and when we want to pretend we are fighting a war on drugs.

Venezuela is a case in point. When heating oil was going through the roof, Hugo Chavez offered to sell cheap oil to the US. His efforts at good will were rebuffed and he was treated like an unwanted step child. Look at Cuba. Our sanctions have done great harm to the Cuban people. Forget Castro. Yes, he is a monster, but no worse than a bunch of other monsters we have supported. Remember, after we ousted Allende in Chile, we supported, avidly, Pinochet, a cruel creature who sent death squads through the streets slaughtering opponents, except for a select few who he had tortured to death.

But these, blessedly, are exceptions. Most of the time we pretty much ignore Latin America and we will regret that. Nations like Brazil and Argentina could be great allies and trading partners, as could Bolivia, Peru, and, now that I think about it, any country down there. Yet, we are so damned interested in the mid-East. I can't imagine why. It's not about oil. Mexico and Venezuela have huge oil reserves. Instead, China does a lot of business with Latin America, and not just oil. Several of those countries have large reserves of rare minerals, the kind that are used in almost every high tech industry. Yet, we seem to have no interest in cultivating relations with them.

If things go as usual, we will continue ignoring Latin America until we desperately need something from them, and that day will come. Then we will have to go either with hat in hand, begging, or we will try our frequent strategy, bullying. Those folks aren't dumb, they will remember and we will pay for our neglect

If I were a young person, entering college, I would study Spanish and Portuguese. I would learn everything I could about Latin America's history, culture and economics. I would study their climates and geography and natural resources. Because then, I believe, about the time the studies are finished, we will be looking more and more at Latin America, either as a very lucrative trading partner and ally or as a serious and perhaps even deadly rival. Either way, that knowledge would be indispensable and I would have a fine professional life ahead of me. But, you know, wouldn't it be nice if for once, we used a little foresight and entered into a new era of relations with our Southern Neighbors as friends.

America's Frontiers

Americans are a restless people. We have never been ones to stay at home. Oh sure, there are some who cling to hearth and home, but they always seem to have bred a bunch of young ones who were ready to take off just about anywhere. The grass has always seemed greener almost anywhere, except where we are at.

Thus, we explored and exploited this vast continent in comparatively short order. By the time the Great Depression ended, we were spread throughout the Nation and, ever since, there has been something wrong. There is no place left to go, and that restless energy has been eating at us ever since.

There are places on Earth that are still unexplored but who among us has the funds to set up camp and roam Antarctica? Who among us can build the sort of craft necessary to ferret out the secrets of the Ocean Floors.

So, we turn inward. Artists write progressively strange tales, ultimately forgetting the tale in search of new technique. Painters revert to some neo-primitive exploration of shape and color. Musicians, having exhausted standard form, traffic in atonal music and electronic bleeps and squeaks.

Some explore the body and attempt to plumb the limits of strength and longevity with the use of steroids and growth hormones and a plethora of enzymes and neuro chemical boosters. Ultimately, they will seek to transcend the body by turning themselves into a hybrid of man and machine.

Still others turn to the spiritual, employing exotic meditations, shamanic trances, and vision quests involving a hell broth of chemicals. The marijuana, peyote, mushrooms, and LSD of my day have given way to way to a dizzying array of designer chemicals and trips to the Amazon in search of ayhuasca are a trendy new vacation choice.

All of these are but vain substitutes for the real thing, physical exploration. I thought, given the speed with which we answered JFK's challenge and reached the moon, that by now we would be leaving the Solar System and on our way to the stars. But, no. Just the other day, I saw a brief article stating that our planned trip to Mars was now off.

What can be done? Short of a new determination by our Government to invigorate our space program, unlikely since most in Government can't find their ass with both hands, all we can do is to look closer at what is here. Yes, we have explored our World, but often we did so hastily. Let us go back and look again. Odds are we have missed quite a bit and now we should be sufficiently mature to take our time.

I chuckle sometimes at the silly shows on History TV that feature people searching for, well you name it: UFOs, the Lost Dutchman Mine, the Treasure of Oak Island, giants, sea serpents, Big Foot, the Holy Grail, the Ark of the Covenant, signs that the New World was visited by Egyptians, Chinese, Phoenicians, the Irish and/or the Polynesians. Is there anything to these weird stories? Sure, probably something is behind these persistent stories, but it does not matter. What is important is the quest, the search, for in the search, we find ourselves.

America: Calm Down

I think, and I can be as guilty as anyone, that we occasionally, well, okay, quite often, get a mite hysterical. On and on go our politicians and news pundits about the dangers of terrorism. I want you consider a few things.

First, the nature of terrorism. We seem to think that this phenomenon has sprung, fully grown, in the recent years. No, it is old, very old. At the time of the Crusades, there was a group who specialized in terrorist actions and assassinations. It was formed out of one of the many strange offshoots of Islam and was run by Hassan I Sabbah, the Old Man of the Mountain. He, using a slick mind control technique that involved promises of eternal pleasure, mixed with heavy doses of hashish, programmed hit squads which sent terror into the hearts of all who opposed them. They were called Assassins, from the word hashish.

The Vietnamese defeated the Mongols by planting booby traps and picking off soldiers caught in them. Native Americans waged a constant series of harassing attacks against settlers which we, today, world call terrorism. Heck, the war we fought against the British in 1776 was a campaign of terror, beginning with the Boston Tea Party.

Anytime a small force fights a larger and stronger one, they can only do so through acts of terror, quick raids, planted explosives, kidnapping, harassing attacks. This is a simple tactic and, objectively speaking, it's a darn effective one.

However, it only works if the party attacked loses perspective, if they panic. Al Qaida, or whoever, the facts are a bit cloudy, but let's go with the official story for the sake of argument, destroyed the World Trade Center. It was a horrific act. But, then, not much. Yes, here and there, there have been attacks in other countries, and that is a horror that should be stopped, but, here, in the US? Again, not much.

There have been more incidents of domestic terror than those perpetrated by radical Islam. We tend to forget the Oklahoma City bombing, the Atlanta Olympics bombing, the many abortion clinics blown up and the DC Snipers. We forget the Weather Underground bombings of the 60s, which might have been worse had they not blown themselves up.

From Al Qaida, since 9/11? Nothing but talk. Now, we are beset with the threats of ISIL. So far? One attack by two people who sympathized with ISIL and managed to kill 14 and wound 17. I am not in the least making light of that horror but, that's 31 people out of a Nation of 350,000,000. Cause for concern? Yes, of course. But, reason to panic, to run frantically in circles, bemoaning the fate of the Land. No. We will not succumb to such organizations. We may succumb to our own greed, sloth and stupidity, but not to terrorism, unless we turn a blind eye to the most dangerous groups in the Land. I am speaking of the White Supremacist/Christian Identity Groups. They have been fairly quiet but do not, for an instant, think we have heard the last of them.

America has Lost Focus

Today, I turn on the news and find that the stock market is dropping like a rock, China's economy is tanking, Iran and the Saudis are at each others throats, Obama is about to unilaterally impose restrictions on gun sales, and a semi-militia group has taken over a building in Oregon. So, what is the news focused on? You guessed it. The Iowa Caucuses.

Now, with no offense intended toward the good folks of Iowa, who cares? This is a small state, without enough votes to sway an election one way or another. Their caucuses are a confusing sort of polling whose outcome largely depends on how heavy its snowing on the night they are held. They represent a demographic that is outside the mainstream and, again, they are just not a major player in National politics.

We have a month until those caucuses are held, yet we are getting almost hourly reports in the campaigning there. Just think, folks, this is just the start. Then we will go through the same lunacy in the tiny state of New Hampshire. By the time we hit the big states I expect we will have bulletins every 15 minutes, with special reports on how often Hillary sneezed and what Trump had for breakfast, and these are only the primaries. Then, God help us all, we have the actual campaigns, when I expect the coverage to be round the clock, with updates on how often the candidates are going to the bathroom.

In other countries, election campaigns are restricted to short periods, which saves money and forces candidates to get right to the issues. I do not care if Bill is going to campaign for Hillary and if the Donald is going to attack his aggressive sexual behavior. I will say that Trump should do so very carefully, lest someone dig up some skeletons in his closet.

But, as so often, the money is the issue. By having these terminally long campaigns, not just for President, but for all political offices, we are insuring that money is doing the talking. Candidates, to keep up, have to raise fortunes and the guys footing the bill are the guys calling the tune. To win, you have to become indebted to big money capitalists and that means, you will be doing their bidding. That is the interesting thing about Trump, he is the big money. What that means for his potential Presidency is beyond me.

I have no idea how this will all play out, but I do know one thing. Covering every slight change in the polls in tiny states, while ignoring potentially world changing events, is a bad idea and everyone connected with the National media should hang their heads in shame.

American Magic

America is a land of magic. No, no, not the David Copperfield sort of stage show. I mean the real thing; magick, as the occultists call it.

Let's be clear about the definition of magick. I am not talking about the conjuring of demons and elementals to do your bidding. Are such things possible? Probably, but that is just an extreme form. I am not talking about the dark dementia old Crowley and his ilk. Magick is simply changing the fabric of space-time, to suit your own purpose, by the strength of your will. That sounds fancy, but it isn't. Say I am hungry and their is ham and bread available. I will myself to go to the refrigerator and rearrange the fabric of the universe, which contains ham and bread, into a sandwich, which I will myself to take to the table and eat. I have worked an act of magick and there is so much going on in the brain and body when I do so that it really is magickal.

Think of all our technology. Sci-fi great, Arthur C. Clark said that any sufficiently advanced technology will seem magical to those who do not possess it. Cars, TVs, even vacuum cleaners would be astounding to the great Pharaohs of Egypt, and, again when you study the physics behind these devices, you realize that they are magick.

But, the greatest magickal act in American history was worked by an odd little fellow named Harry Smith. Smith was a beatnik, for want of a better term, and sort of a proto-hippy. He made fascinating experimental films and to this day, the importance of this broke down, alcoholic, pot smoking amphetamine addict is vastly overlooked.

Smith collected old 78 records, what were then called hillbilly and race records, blues, folk, gospel music. He, at the urging of a record producer, collected them into one package, and released The Anthology of American Folk Music. However, he packaged them in an interesting way. He grouped them by type and assigned each type one of the 4 basic elements of Classical and Alchemical thought.

Years later he explained his reason. He said that he was out to create a Magickal Working that would change America. He succeeded. His collection became almost a Bible for the late 50s=early 60s folk music revival. Out of that came Bob Dylan, perhaps our greatest songwriter, ever, and he has acknowledged his debt to Smith. Not only that, many of the 60s generation rock and blues greats learned their craft and found their inspiration from his efforts. Jerry Garcia and his lyricist Robert Hunter of the Grateful Dead were huge fans. You can hear his influence in artists as diverse as Springsteen, David Crosby, and Joan Baez, among countless others. Even artists who have never heard the collection have been strongly influence by those who devoured it.

But, as is often the case, the magick went deeper. The songs Smith chose are reminders of an America that many had overlooked, sometimes quite intentionally. In his songs you hear tales of the strangeness that contributed to our greatness. The world of tent show preachers and voodoo healers, of outlaws and con men, of jealous lovers and gambling men, of low down women and weird mystic ramblers, is opened in his collection. There is a refusal by the old, weird folks who, just as much as the straight-laced, narrow minded businessmen, built this country; a refusal to just disappear in a corner, to just dry up and go away and stop embarrassing the regular folks. Thank God there is that refusal because, without the strangeness, even when it becomes unbearably sad or unspeakably violent, we would be terminally boring.

I guess everyone has some strange relative, an uncle, perhaps, who shows up at the family get- togethers and gets drunk and rambles on with old, tall tales and generally causes a scene. Well, think of Harry as that uncle and his collection as the pint of liquor the old guy sneaks in to liven things up. My Lord, wouldn't life be a bore without characters like that.

The Anthology of American Folk Music may be the greatest work of magick in the history of this strange old world. And just think, the work of a cranky, half-crazy lunatic changed the Nation.