Monday, April 30, 2007

back to...

fairly regular postings at this location...

It seems my best course of action, at the present moment, is your basic name-dropping for fun and profit.

Let's start with my all time favorite Media Planting event...the one which should push this over the top.

If it works, Art Dif, Billionaire Enviro Mentalist sits down with Algore, Richard Branson, and Ted Turner...to discuss The Global Crisis...live...via webcam...utilizing the media clout of the participants to get some attention.

Don't click the link yet...read below for a line, or two.

http://www.nesl.edu/csr/NewSite/EAPonlineGD.cfm?show=bahouth

The fellow mentioned is Peter A. Bahouth.

Peter was head of Greenpeace, and Director of The Turner Foundation...yet, even the Earthiest types knew little, if anything about him...until the above appeared...very recently...he's re-inventing himself.

Check out the link...interview is down the page a little...and click back to here.

With that in mind...

Ted Turner and Jane Fonda presented The World Peace Writing Competition several years ago...offering a prize of $25,000, receiving 10,000 entries, and deciding there was no winner.

I have never been able to get an answer to 'where are the entries?'.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, I didn't get it together in time to meet the deadline, and enter officially...but, I did submit "This Just Came...an American Hobo's Papers"...my adventure in self-publishing, to The Turner Foundation...96/97...way late, but on the record, via good ol' Peter A. Bahouth...who comments, '...great book, Steve'...but never another response.

I recently followed his trail of crumbs to an Art Gallery, where he shows his stereoptic pics...I think that's correct...pics taken with an antique stereoptic camera, eh?

No response.

So, in the truest American Way, I'm going to the public, claiming that Bahouth's current drop-out, explore new avenues, etc. phase is the direct result of his absorbing the material contained in "TJC".

Find stuff of Pete's from his Greenpeace/Turner Foundation days. Compare it to today's Rap.

I'll do the same.

I can't reproduce "TJC" on this Blog, but, if necessary, can find key elements, and show the genesis.

In a nutshell, I claim to have presented Pete with several keys to World Peace, and he, like his mentors, The Mouth of the South, and Barbarella, just took it for his own.

I have absolutely nothing against Pete, his mentors, or anyone else, for that matter.

It just continues to amaze me how people in power are so often capable of doing such ridiculous things...and I can't resist presenting them opportunities to display their prowess.

Check this out. It's true.

I'll stay on it by referring the Art Gallery back here. I've done it before, to no end. Let's see if this gadget is working properly this time.

stay tuned...Media Planting Rules...this is only the beginning...

Here's a little something Pete and his Buddies have all had access to since 96/97.

Note...I just discovered from reading about 'the new Bahouth', that his Buddie List includes devout Enviro Mentalist Woody Harrelson...name-dropping seems to be fashionable here in the world of Ecobabble.

Nature...excerpt from "TJC"

Nature is represented here as a young sapling, in a primeval forest...Willow, or Aspen...quaking in a gentle breeze, slender, supple, green, and bent to make a snare.

Along comes a rabbit.

Snap!

Nature and Mankind co-operate. Mankind survives.

Later.

The Human who made the snare, to catch the rabbit, to feed his family, is hungry again. The kids are screaming. His mate is in a fury.

This Human goes to the same tree over and over again. Soon, his scent pervades the area. His snare works once in a while. He catches hedgehogs and water rats.

Eventually...

The snare turns up empty every time. His family despises the hunter.

But, he never thinks to move to a new tree.

Nature has become his enemy. He bends and bends the sapling, angrily wrestling with his snare.

One day...as he struggles with the no longer so sapling, sapling, his foot becomes entangled in the snare.

The sapling is now a strong young tree...a snapling.

The persistent, but not too clever Human hung by his ankles for three days, until the vines he had used for his snare rotted and broke.

He fell on his head.

Starving, semi-conscious, barely sentient, and ever more intolerant of nature's ways, he spent the next two days crawling back to his cave.

There, his starving wife and children attempted to nurse him back to health.

He was their only hope for survival.

I don't know if those humans survived. But, I think they did.

I think they proliferated.

I think their progeny exist to this day.

Sounds familiar...eh?

Sunday, April 29, 2007

a treat...for your patience...

Full Moons in May...

There are two full moons scheduled for this May.

We can pretty much assume that they’ll arrive on time.

As will their effects.

Who knows what this will bring?

Thinking about it reminds me of a full moon in May experience from about twenty years ago.

It begins during a drive through the Laurentian Mountains, from Montreal to PEI, on a winding, roller coaster-like road, alongside a fast rushing river, sweeping through granite and scrubby pine chasms, while the clearest moon I’ve ever seen followed our sightline for hours.

It wasn’t even 100% full. The official full moon was fifteen hours away. But, it sure had the look going for it. Really incredible…the road was less traveled, allowing us to drive along at a leisurely pace, heat on, windows open, music filling the van, and the surrounding chasms...creating an echo, over the sounds of Van Morrison, with the whoosh, and splash of rushing water coursing through…way friggin’ cool.

It must have lasted four, or five hours. We finally came to a place where the leisurely pace was no longer possible, and the moon had gone behind the highest parts of the rocky terrain. It was early AM, we’d been on the road since Montreal, had taken turns driving…snoozing, and saw no reason not to continue without sleep.

Ozone levels remained high, while full moon fever, and the amazing resonance of musical echoes, infused with river sounds generated a brilliant sense of clarity…big fun, eh?

Next stop, the Ferry from Moncton NB to Summerside PEI.

Upon arriving, we were faced with a view across the Northumberland Strait, of PEI enveloped in something beyond fog. There was a giant snowstorm, black as night, sitting directly over PEI, dumping thirty inches of unbelievably heavy snow.

The temperature in Moncton was approaching 60 degrees Farenheit. Stations on PEI had recorded low 70’s the day before. Yipes!

The Ferry didn’t leave for hours. Watching the storm, about 11 miles away, over the Strait, you could clearly see the precipitation, glistening through the low angles of morning Sun…beneath a billowing, roiling black cloud…almost as cool as the moon…don’tcha think?

By the time we disembarked at Summerside, temps were above 50, the Sun was blazingly clear, and the snow was visibly melting into a liquid fog, and dissipating upward so fast that it swirled.

The snow depth was going down…right before our eyes.

We drove to The Poetical Asylum, parked at the roadside, trekked into the property through about two feet of slushy Pea Soup Snow Fog, until the clearing.

Clothes off, running and rolling through the snow, into the 70 degree waters of Malpeque Bay…howling like damn fools.

Within a few hours, the ground was bare of snow, with fast moving rivulets everywhere.

Soon, the highest ground was passable for the van. We drove in, settled ourselves, and smiled ‘til it hurt.

As night fell, and the really full moon rose, there came a howling from the next parcel of land. I knew from previous visits that there was an Indian Reservation on this land.

Running between The Asylum, and The Reservation is a brackish tidal creek, which opens into Malpeque Bay.

The full moon had brought a run of smelt into the creek. The Indians were catching them by hand, like Grizzly Bears, and tossing the fish into large plastic trash bags...while howling at the moon like peyote crazed coyotes. They’d squeeze each fish for signs of milt, and toss back the males. I spent the next several hours joining in.

It was amazingly easy to focus, and grab a fast moving fish from the water. Of course, there were about ten bazillion of them. It wasn’t exactly catch, or die of starvation…but, it was funner than all hell.

All compliments of one full moon in May…can’t wait to see what a May with two brings.

Monday, April 9, 2007

Sunday, April 1, 2007

toward a solution...

...here's where we're going... http://syog.blogspot.com

I suggest a look below before proceeding...


The suggestion has been planted...start 1.20.007...let's see how long it takes to clarify the issue.
This will give us some indication of our ability to get together on key topics...not agree, necessarily...get together with purpose...here we go!

Outside what box?...there are no boxes involved, anywhere else in nature...only inside our gourds.