Thursday, April 16, 2015

Gurin to Sakura (Greens and Cherry Blossoms)

I think even if I were given unlimited time and unlimited funds
I'd still not reach the bottom of the Japans.

The deeper one looks, the more there is to find.

Just as Oda Nobunaga, warlord of one of the smallest and weakest provinces,
used his mind to conquer Japan,
this small island country uses its mind to resonate around the world.

Ultimate survival requires a trust in Nature.

On the list of the infinite,
today we learn the lesson of the cherry blossom and the greens of spring.

Gurin 11

Gurin 12

a hangover
is nothing as long as
there are cherry blossoms

Gurin 36

Gurin 37

Gurin 58

old pond
a frog jumps into
the sound of water

Gurin 57

Gurin 20

Gurin 55

where was the shower?
with umbrella in hand
the monk returns

Gurin 19

Gurin 48

Gurin 4

flowers in this world
my wine is white
my rice dark

Gurin 30

Gurin 40

Gurin 52

to live in this world
as Sogi says, is as long as
taking shelter in the rain

Gurin 49

Gurin 54

Gurin 25

now as for haiku masters
none are in this world

Gurin 59

Gurin 15

Gurin 24

Sunday, April 12, 2015

How To Load Jews Into Gas Chambers

"Just because we've been told do it doesn't make it right."

"It's the [insert corporation name] way."

"How is that even relevant to what's best for the business? This direction will harm our customers in the end."

"Now you're just being difficult."

"Just tell me my analysis is wrong!"

"I'm not going to discuss this anymore. You need to work on your negative attitude and stop questioning everything."

I usually right fiction with facts to match my feelings. But that above is a paraphrased conversation I've actually had more than once. You see, there are many people in this world who judge their morality in equivalence to their obedience. "I'm a good person. I do what I'm told without question." Once in that mindset, you too can be a concentration camp guard!

Now that might seem like hyperbole to some but if you have an inability to say "No" to what you're told to do you are in essence a Nazi, a destroyer. ("Have you ever said No?" That question really riles them!) You will find these people can tolerate no protests of authority for without morality ascribed to authority those who obey lose their ascribed morality. Pointing out facts that demonstrate a destructive act by authority is deemed treasonous to the cause and simply overlooked.

Religion by any other name still smells as sick.

Of course, treason to the cause of treason is, in fact, patriotism but that is only realized after the fact when the entity in question is dead. Whether it's Nazism or Enron or the eventual collapse of the United States, the "troublemakers" of the times are history's heroes. But rarely do we hear their names honored in praise. That's because we haven't learned our lesson yet.

Someone unexposed to the perils of capitalism once told me no one is pointing a gun to my head. Dear God in heaven, if only I could find someone who isn't! As the CEO loots the company in broad daylight everyone nods in agreement to keep their jobs. Want to be a hero? Go be eaten by the lions in the street. You and your whole fucking family. Whether it's the Night Of The Long Knives or mass layoffs, we cower in false morality saying, "Who am I to question?"

"Who are you not to question?"

In the Milgram experiment it was studied how far people will go in obeying an authority figure.
In Milgram's first set of experiments, 65 percent (26 of 40) of experiment participants administered the experiment's final massive 450-volt shock, though many were very uncomfortable doing so; at some point, every participant paused and questioned the experiment; some said they would refund the money they were paid for participating in the experiment. Throughout the experiment, subjects displayed varying degrees of tension and stress. Subjects were sweating, trembling, stuttering, biting their lips, groaning, digging their fingernails into their skin, and some were even having nervous laughing fits or seizures.
65 percent sociopaths. I've witnessed its equivalence. "Boy, I sure does hate doing this but I gotta do what I gotta do." The assholes think that disclaimer somehow provides cover, that the body of the Jew can be unburned or at least the perp can be held unaccountable later. I hear that garbage every fucking day. Unless you've witnessed it, you can have no idea the rampant unaccountability in corporate America. No one wants to be the person who says the Emperor has no clothes.

It's also why corporations live in dire fear as being portrayed as immoral institutions, dropping anyone with even the hint of scandal. To be seen for what they are is their greatest fear, the hopeless hope that the truth will not will out. Those who want to keep eating keep dumping poison into the environment, use lives and throw them away when they can't be used anymore, and allow the thieves at the top to loot us with abandon.

To put it in Biblical terms, corporations are the Beast, 666 represents the mythical numbers we let rule our lives. Profits don't exist. Countries don't exist. The need to blackmail does not exist. All fictions of the mind. Only Nature exists and She will have her ruthless say in the end, the final sweet wonderful trump card. Go ahead, call Her a troublemaker!

So on the the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Buchenwald, do not ask yourself how did this happen. Ask yourself why do we let it continue to happen. Make all the arguments you want, shout down the questioners, and gather the most votes as to what reality is. Ain't gonna save one single life in the end. After the Lie dies comes Life - but only for those who refused to lie before.

Monday, April 06, 2015

Kill The Infidel! (A Tale Of Two Infidels)

"We must kill the infidel! There is no living with him. He is not like us."

No eyes disagreed that looked upon the infidel. "This must be done. Only death will suffice. The good must be preserved." The verdict was final. The infidel had other thoughts.

"So anyone who disagrees with your outlook has to die? Savages all!"

"You are a threat to us. You must be destroyed."

"But I see you as the threat. Who are you to judge my actions?"

"With you, everything will be destroyed. Our lives, our way of life, all would be gone."

"I don't give a goddam about your way of life! I stand for the truth."

"The truth resides with us."

"Might makes right, huh? Majority rules? Sometimes it's just one person who is right and if you'd listen to that one person you just might learn something."

"We know what we know. The issue is not open for debate."

"Closed-minded dogma is the sign of a man who is out of touch with the truth!"

"We know we are right and you are wrong. These are our laws and they are holy and inviolable. There can be no debate."

"Of course you don't want debate! Might find out you're wrong that way! You are not open to the truth, that's why you have no future!"

"You speak of yourself, not us. Carry out the sentence."


After his head was chopped off a small girl was curious. "Mommy, why did they kill him?"

"He was caught trying to poison the town well. Everyone would have died."

"Why would he do that?"

"He said because he was doing God's will."

"But what if he really was?"

"Don't worry. God doesn't want us dead. Only that man did."


"We must kill the infidel! There is no living with him. He is not like us."

No eyes disagreed that looked upon the infidel. "This must be done. Only death will suffice. The good must be preserved." The verdict was final. The infidel had other thoughts.

"So anyone who disagrees with your outlook has to die? Savages all!"

"You are a threat to us. You must be destroyed."

"But I see you as the threat. Who are you to judge my actions?"

"With you, everything will be destroyed. Our lives, our way of life, all would be gone."

"I don't give a goddam about your way of life! I stand for the truth."

"The truth resides with us."

"Might makes right, huh? Majority rules? Sometimes it's just one person who is right and if you'd listen to that one person you just might learn something."

"We know what we know. The issue is not open for debate."

"Closed-minded dogma is the sign of a man who is out of touch with the truth!"

"We know we are right and you are wrong. These are our laws and they are holy and inviolable. There can be no debate."

"Of course you don't want debate! Might find out you're wrong that way! You are not open to the truth, that's why you have no future!"

"You speak of yourself, not us. Carry out the sentence."


After his head was chopped off a small girl was curious. "Mommy, why did they kill him?"

"He was going to expose our poisoning the town's well. That would have ended our profits from oil fracking."

"Why would he do that?"

"He said because he was doing God's will."

"But what if he really was?"

"Don't worry. God doesn't want our profits to end. Only that man did."

Sunday, April 05, 2015

What's Wrong With Mom?

"Mom's not her usual self."

No, this is my usual self. I just can't pretend anymore.

"She's not doing what she's supposed to."

I never have.

"When will she snap out of it?"

There's nothing to "snap out" of. The Lie is over.

The Act, such as it was, died a natural death. She'd gotten notice from on high. An angel came to her in a dream, showing her the bill for her life: $283,235,957. That's what she'd wasted with her dishonest ways. She'd need to pay it back to get into heaven. There was, of course, no possible hope of that - even if she were not set in her ways as she was.

So I did all this for nothing. Decades of scrambling and covering up "for the good of the family." Sacrificing pieces of my breaking heart. Denying my dreams for an easy lifestyle. How bitterly ironic. I knew I was designed as someone who needed wealth. We have 2 million but I lost 283 million along the way. I don't really have any wealth anyway. It's all Joe's and I don't dare divorce.

I thought God was yelling at me for having the money that I did, not because I was throwing it away! Easy to see now that money or no money was never the problem. It was the dishonesty. One penny or one million, if you get it dishonestly it weighs on you just the same. It was never about the amount. God wanted more for me than I ever dreamed. Now the bill has come due. Mercy me.

She could see no way to extricate herself. Her outward "success" served only to mask her inward failures. The kids notice everything. Damn! Without The Act what could she do? She could get "help" and everyone would act supportive and get to play the role of rescuing hero. What a charade that would be. Pills and pop psychology would be stuffed down her throat. Is that the ever-rising price for keeping the Lie alive?

But nothing could change the bill due. She couldn't even hide in her religion. How could she pray to God now that she knew God knows the truth? She'd waited too long to face the music. Only the idea of keeping the Lie going excited her and brought life back into her, that she could carry on as before. But her course was forever altered having faced her reality.

She had to do it, though. The nights were torture and it was spilling over into the day. The constant needling, the poking and prodding of demons caused her to cry out in her dreams to make it stop. If only she didn't know, if she could have remained ignorant and kept the ability to convince herself her life was not a waste.


Pointless. Everything up to this point has been pointless. Lying has been the true enemy. I'm more alone than ever. Meeting with that quack was terrifying. All he wanted to do was help me figure out how to lie again! That's the idiot's definition of "hope". There's no fucking hope in that! When I try to infer that the snake starts talking about needing to work on my attitude. Dear God, was this a therapy session for me or for him?

I've really fucked myself good.

She felt her "depression" was a good thing. Who wouldn't be depressed with a 283 million dollar invoice?? She'd wrecked her life and wanted it exposed. But she was alone in that. Subtle hints were made that if she kept on with her "attitude" bad things would happen. Shunned by her kids. Rebuked by her husband and church. Ultimately, perhaps, even cut off completely as a liability to the family - a family she shouldn't have had in the first place. So this is the comeuppance promised for the Whore of Babylon.

So he carried me away in the spirit into the wilderness:
 and I saw a woman sit upon a scarlet colored beast,
full of names of blasphemy, having seven heads and ten horns.

And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color,
and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls,
having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication:

And upon her forehead was a name written,

It had always been so easy to be a "good person". With her natural charms and gifts marriage had been as simple as picking and pointing and saying, "I do." She'd wanted to cash in for all she was worth. She recalled that as a time of driving anger. What was she so angry about? Because she'd felt betrayed by the falseness of her dreams? Or because - oh, no - it was she herself who betrayed her dreams. She'd just assumed her dreams would fail her and a lie the only thing left to do.

This has been a revelation to me. Is everyone as screwed up as I am? Is that why they want me to keep lying because they too live a lie? All this time I'd thought I was the only one. That's why my friends having affairs and doing what they wanted were laughing at me. I was a fool not getting my share. I thought them a fool for risking their marriage. But getting rid of this lie is the most important thing in my life! The risk was in doing nothing as I had done. At least the others had stayed in the game instead of sitting on the sidelines declaring themselves holy.

Her private moments were the new gold. The plasticine smile would fade and her Stepford goosestepping relax as the caged bird sang no more. She'd left herself no outs. She'd rowed out to sea on a wave of anger 283 million miles from land. What really scared her was her reaction to the thought of love - a thought she hadn't had in years. She knew it was her only possible hope but she wanted to instantaneously claw its eyes out and rip it apart. "Don't see me! Don't see me!"

All she wanted to do was just not lie - the greatest sin of all in the eyes of a dying world.

Thursday, April 02, 2015

Part 6: Freefall To Ecstasy

1:43 AM. I don't believe it. Those kids down the hall are still going. They live in eternal youth as just a few feet away I'm moaning on the floor rolling naked in pain. These nighttime attacks won't leave me alone. A lifetime of chickens have come home to roost. I'm trapped in every direction. Demons in the dark torment me asking what have I done to deserve my massive money. Demons in the day torment me without my massive money. Some free ride this is.

The brain pain drives me insane. Still, I manage to poke through to imagine what this scene must look like in the eyes of heaven with a naked millionaire crawling on the carpet as rich kids outside the door rule the world without a second thought. I'm possessed by fear of the idea of them seeing me in this state. I feel like it would invalidate my life. Why? Why?

Oh, that's why. Because that's me out there - or was twenty years ago. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My worst fears have come true. I really am nothing. Goddam I wanted to keep this a secret. All those years wasted partying; I knew I was like a car running out of gas and I better find some before it's too late. If the people who saw me then could see me now I'd be mocked for the rest of my days.

That's a dead end too

Of course, now I think about it, many of my asshole friends ended up broken too. They were just smart enough to hide it with marriage contracts, business contracts, or soul contracts. I'm the only one who ended up exposed. How much longer does this free-falling last?

I have a "door ding" Honda I use for places where I don't feel safe to park an exotic. As a test of my self-worth, I took it down to Bob's Steak House on Lemmon. There's never any parking there so it's only valet. Even early in the evening you can at least find a couple of Bentleys parked up front. They always park the best ones there to show off. I never failed to take an exotic before but this time I took the Honda. Oh, boy.

The Woman Of Fabric could take any car there and still be as wonderful as she is. But me? I was conscious of the Honda the whole time I was eating my steak. Is the waiter looking at me differently? Do they consider me an interloper, a fraud, a poser living beyond his means? Shit, all I wanted to do was eat and get the hell out of there. I tried but I never could relax or feel comfortable. I kept feeling like I had to explain my car!

Test failed - miserably.

Will be a long time before I go back to Bob's - if ever. How can I explain myself for driving a crummy car especially after Park Place located a Bora for me of which I just took delivery. I felt my image permanently stained. This is all such a mind fuck!

I headed back to the penthouse too. Was weird seeing it empty and alone with an outsider's eyes. No, I didn't miss it, after all. Someone will be thrilled with it but the luster is gone for me. It'll be snatched up soon, I'm sure. Letting go was actually a rare good decision for me. Now if I could just find a place to go to.

The Woman Of Fabric was sent to save me. But like the savages of old I betrayed my savior. Hating myself for it won't solve anything but I can't stop the self-recrimination. Sharks sense this vulnerability and coupled with my money I seem a juicy target. It's a hell of an effort to remain on guard but in moments like this in the middle of the night crying out in agony I'm ripe for the picking and can't help it. I feel it's vitally important I keep this state hidden at all costs. I also feel it's equally important the whole world knows about it.

Stuck between the two, I free-fall. What are my options? Money won't save me. Believe me, I've tried every which way possible. Dead ends gagging on a silver spoon. Man, I'm tired. I want to die before everyone finds out what a fuck up I've been. I was supposed to live fast, die young and have a good looking corpse. Never thought about after. I was supposed to be dead by now.

Monday, March 30, 2015

Unseasoned Salt

The clock read 3:58 AM when she first smelled the smoke. By then, it was too late. Too late for a lot of things. The world had changed forever, arcing towards disaster like the Titanic hitting the iceberg. All over now except for the sinking. No going back.

It was I who started the fire. The house didn't burn, just her painting, one of the six copies of Leonardo's Mona Lisa. I knew the alarms would stop the house fire - but the painting would be toast. That, however, was the lesser of my crimes.

"Throw him in with the other assassins."

That's how we ended up as three assassins in a cell. Me, Mark David Chapman (John Lennon's killer) and Yolanda SaldĂ­var (killer of popular Hispanic singer Selena). What a doomed lot we are.

Their eyes upon me were at first suspicious, vacant and curious all at the same time. I could bear to look at no one and slunk to a corner of the cell.

"Who did you kill?" asked SK (Selena Killer). I was in far too much pain to answer, the wound still open and fresh.

"Leave him alone," urged LK. "At least there's another now."

Oh, what small comfort that is. As in no comfort at all. I wanted to scream my lungs out but who can I blame but me? For many a long while there I tried to Rashomon my way out, twisting perspectives until it suited me. In the end, you just run out of stories, and you're left dangling with the truth. That's how you end up confessing.

LK never lifts his head up. He sits with his knees up around his head, a human tortoise. SL was unkempt and ugly, exactly the opposite as her one time idol. It was clear each one was beaten down with the idea of self-recrimination. Like Judas before them, they knew suicide the only honorable way out. But they remained, hoping against hope. The feeling was one as if being left on a distant planet to die, unknown to the universe.

Since I wouldn't confess, SL felt she needed to get the ball rolling. "She was the most beautiful person I ever met, inside and out. But she wasn't perfect! Everyone wanted to be just like her, sexy and talented. But not everyone can be that way! Her music will live forever. But you can't expect to have that to offer, now can you?"

Getting a glimpse of the continual argument in her head frightened me. It echoed mine. Then I saw her wind down as a robot running out of power. She was drained by the eruption. That was her only repose from the torment. As her energy comes back, so does the arguing.

LK remained catatonic. A one time Beatle fan who perverted to Christianity derided Lennon as an arrogant hypocrite. So he put a very Christian bullet in him. He constantly refers to himself as "Cain who killed Abel" and he too can find no rest, no way of undoing.

I realized I must tell my story too. "I burned a copy of the Mona Lisa, a betrayal right there in her own home."

"You broke in like a thief?"

"I am a thief but she had given me a key."

"So it was her trust you broke?" Well, at least I didn't have to explain what that experience was like to these two. But their hunger showed liked hyenas and I was the dying carcass to be ripped apart.

"Yes, but it gets even worse. She was going to sell it and give me half the proceeds."

"Why the hell you burn it then? That just crazy, crazy!" scorched SL (who had been caught embezzling from Selena).

I paused to gather myself. "No one had ever done anything like that before. Not for me, anyway. I'd never even thought it possible. How was I deserving? I was just...overwhelmed."

"Yes, I never thought he could be my friend, either."

"Nor she mine!"

It was if I was hearing my story for the first time too. "She thought I was worth it. She knew of my life of crime and with that money I could go straight. I guess I was afraid. After getting the money we'd find out if I really was somebody or still some loser outlaw. What if she sold the painting and found out I was a worthless shit?" No one answered out loud. "I was never worth her time but somehow she believed I was. God, I was in a bind."

"We know," the pair replied in unison.

"It's insane now that I say it out loud. I knew burning the painting was wrong but I convinced myself that betraying her was the best thing for her, to get me out of her life. With the painting gone there could be no way I'd be exposed and she'd expel my worthless ass from her life as she should. Shit, why didn't I just walk away when I could?"

"Amen!" the pair replied in unison.

"Was only a matter of time before I got caught thieving, continuing the old ways I so loathe. I could have been saved. I could have been a contender. I keep going back and forth in my mind: was it just my imagination she'd forever reject me after she saw the real me? I can't get it out me head. Both answers roast me alive. Yes-no, yes-no, over and over and over. I'm going out of my mind."

"Welcome to our world," the pair replied in unison.


LK says time has lost meaning. That horror is slowly creeping into me too. What's left to do? Nothing that I can see. The three of us never operated on the principle of having hope. But maybe there was hope until we erased it. We just had to be right - even when we were in the wrong. The sun shall rise no more.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

The False Flag Fugitive Chronicles

It's a funny thing, killing people. The more you do it the more necessary you think it is to continue. But the more you do it the less you know why. It's the slipperiest of slippery slopes. Faceless "necessary" drone strikes abroad inevitably lead to faceless "necessary" killings at home. That's why you don't want to get into that business in the first place.

Yet, so many walk with hands incarnadine.

The cult of killing has its own unique rules of miraged morality. If you're angry at someone and kill them you're a criminal. If you're angry at someone and order someone wearing a uniform to kill them, both you and the killer are heroes. That's how the state protects itself. But the veil of morality is wearing thinner and thinner. We just wanna kill in the end.

In the old days a high priest would come out and bless the sacrificing of the human. Today, we have lawyers issue memos to sanctify our deeds. God help anyone who believes there's a difference. But killing is like eating a food that never sates your appetite. The hunger still grows - and so must the futile killing. At some point, the desperation boils over.

That's when you get a "false flag" operation. False Flag is when you're itching to kill but can't find an enemy or your enemy doesn't justify being killed. So you attack yourself, blame the attack on your enemy of choice, and voilĂ  you gots yourself a bona fide war on your hands! Of course, that also takes a corrupt and naive populace unwilling to pursue the truth. So far, the rulers we've put in place have a stunning track record of success with false flags, even after the truth comes out no one remembers the lie because everyone was in on it.

Not that I can call anybody out. I got swept up too. And I mean suckered royally. "Gosh! Really?? Wow!!" That about sums up my critical reaction to the line of bull fed me. I didn't want to see the lies nor does the world want to see lies. I'm paying the price for my stupidity now. The rest will pay later - and just as dearly.

I don't suppose it matters to retell the lies told me. I'd be speaking to those without ears. But as a matter of record it went something like this. Our dear President felt unloved. He set a record number of vacation days because like a sulking Nixon on the night of his reelection he knew his con would come to light sooner or later. How ironic the con has yet to be admitted - and as the sins daily mount at this point it never will be.

I can't tell you how much that fucks me.

I was such a clever boy!

Instead of Special Forces I was part of Special Services. Yeah, man, we were even "more elite". Moron me swallowed that even with skipping the grueling training Special Forces requires. Those guys selecting us were smart. They knew to select greedy schmucks looking for shortcuts to glory. We were to feign an attack on the White House. It made sense. There had been high profile stories recently of security breaches and also of the Secret Service engaging with hookers and drunk driving. What really got me was the White House official who showed up giving us this big rah-rah speech on the importance of our exercise. We 16 lap dogs licked up the drivel of self-importance we were handed.

It's really heady when everyone's telling you you're great for the first time in your life. These guys were pure masters of psychology; never a wrong tone or inflection. They played us with a delicious zeal. What a bunch of obvious rubes we must have been to them. I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe so badly I was doing something important, that I was somebody important and that the people I trusted were the moral icons they pretended to be. Well, fuck, I was O for fucking three on that.

What saved me - if I can use that term considering my situation - was the shred of doubt I let stay inside me. I hated it but I couldn't shake it. It was all too easy, too convenient, too neat a fit. I was giddy when picked and the rest was a cake walk laid out for me. Looking back, the self-satisfied smiles on the faces of those professional liars were clearly mocking us. Part of me knew it should have been harder. But that voice wasn't loud enough to ask to pull out of our elite squad. Besides, an even stronger voice (rightly) told me that would be a dangerous move to make - lethal, in fact.

The night of the operation my little voice was screaming. But damned if I was going to listen to it. In the end, it saved my life. When our "radical Islamic terror attack" on the White House began I instinctively separated from the group. "Life is here," said my voice. And from my hidden vantage point I watched the slaughter come from all directions. I also knew I was in deep, deep trouble. The area would be sealed off and searched allegedly for precautionary reasons but the real reason being they would count only 15 bodies and then come hunting for my idiot ass with a vengeance.

I had the advantage of them having exposed themselves during the attack. Not taking it seriously yet the commander of the assassins sent out lone searchers in a loud public display of concern for security. I knew my only window was in this time before the bodies were counted. I had to trust myself as never before. No time for my usual self-doubt or self-pity. You got in you, man! Use it! So I clubbed the searcher who passed by me, dragged him into the bushes and swapped gear.

I bluffed my way out, ordering some ignorant underlings around as needed (the professional liars had taught me something after all) as I raced to "secure" the grounds. I had guessed Colonel Sanders (real name) who'd been our leader was in fact our betrayer too. I threw his name around as I commandeered a car and exited the ever tightening lock down. I drove an hour north towards Baltimore careful never to take a main road. I parked the car leaving the keys in it hoping someone would steal it even with the government tags on it. Then I started walking, knowing I could never go back to my life again.

The "raid" was a stunning success. Approval ratings for the President and his hardline harping on the perils of tolerating evildoers soared to all time highs. "These are men who will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. Life and liberty mean nothing to them compared to their agenda of ultimate control and power. They must be destroyed if we are to preserve our way of life." Watching that speech on TV I became both the most wanted and unwanted man in the country. My little voice was speaking again, telling me things were about to get much, much worse. It was right.