This is a fallen world, not organized well, with many flaws. As I move from organic farm to the next, the issue of labor is illuminated. First, let me say, agriculture has a legal and spiritual dimension, which forgotten, sets agriculture back, which remembered, advances its natural vitality. If there were local peaceful assemblies, which there are supposed to be, which discussed and made local decisions, a more agrarian society would be opted for. These peaceful assemblies, have been abridged by the incorporation of towns with local officials by state constitutions, and there we live in an illegal world, where the economy controls us, rather than we control the economy; where education regulates us, and subsequently we no longer feel change comes from us, but from the government or media.
Yet the world could not be so pithed, were it not really pithed. Somehow the amalgamation of mind that has grown into and operates human beings from heaven or eternity draws blood from my capillaries in a certain way, through space, psychically, and therein is able to operate what it does, from the illusion, to the knocking out of key components of fetuses. It is regrettable to have to say this to so ignorant an illusion; yet the science and exactness of the description of this process is what is going to galvanize any entry into the social, from the meditative. It makes more sense to meditate on the mind, in hopes the study of the science of the mind, will lead to more control and knowledge of truth, than any attempt to reach out to government or people, because the illusion is not meant to help, yet understanding the drain of blood from me seems to be tremendously important.
Organic Farms seem to galvanize labor under the guidelines of seeking interns, as they call them, for several months for a year. My practice, when I tried to get my operation going, which albeit was a very small operation; was to use as little assistance as possible, and to have many people each helping for a short time, from a few hours to a few days, than to have a few people helping the whole season.
My way exposes many more people to agriculture. People are sympathetic to agriculture, want to be exposed to it, and believe we need more, not less agriculture, and indeed, many believe the economy is insensible and their education, oppressive. We will only get a better world by exposing more people agriculture, working agriculture, since it is a dynamic, vital, harmonious proactive experience, the experience of it propels a richer, hipper, more interactive and worldly transmission in the world.
In this way organic agriculture is similar to the Appalachian trail. Though I would think it is more likely 90 people hike one day, it is more like one person hikes 90 days. But these are both healthy activities, jettisoned by pressure.
The more important and natural and logical reason which a more natural world would have apprehended by now is that is that agriculture is very hard work requiring a strength and psychology most people do not have. The people who help me, generally, are psyched for the work, and then burn out after a few days, and if on the farm longer, become a drain. When I am at larger farms with longer term contributors I invariable see burn out. This is exactly why a frequent changeover of assistance is important, and ultimately consistent with agricultural production.
And it is morally compelling to people and community to help the organic grower. All the jobs in society that produce little aren’t really that necessary. Commonly, time may be saved, by all focusing on what is most important. These common values may assert themselves in peaceful assemblies. That is subsumed in many states by the error of representative democracy at a local level; a level that needs a proactive and sophisticated and cooperating community polity, rather than the few deciding for the many. Especially since, and all levels of elective democracy must address this: Elections don’t really exist. The Kingdom of God does not vote, there is just an illusion of votes, a final made-up tally whereby the chosen person has been picked by a metaphysical process that does not involve the actual votes of the people. Together, the aglomeration of the people; as singular voters, a false concept. We all profess something other than what is, as a grand illusion to get under and master; and that profession makes elective democracy very suspect; and perhaps is why the government so far is completely unable to deal with the proposed benefit of reforming local officials with peaceful assemblies, making decisions; as well as reforming or altering state and republican government to adhere to moral guidelines which will not allow the ignorance that exists now.
My organic operation got so many types involved; to lose weight, to be healthier, to avoid abusive husbands, to stay away from police, to avoid addictive drugs or alcohol, to augment and increase their work ethic, to complement their main job, to be a part of agriculture, to atone for sins, to say fuck you, to avoid homelessness, to have a place on the road a while; everyone had a reason, a problem—it was very diverse; and I was leveraging, Muslim gas stations, crisis ministries, black churches, the Russian orthodox to see and experience the proximity of organic growing to salvation. I had full moon overnight pot luck drum circle councils designed to galvanize the community; though these did less to procure labor, than knowledge of my own friends, and my friends telling others about the experience and opportunity. Locals, too, I was always trying to court with the moral compulsion of the vitality and necessity of agrarian behavior. Churches, bars, organizations – all fodder for the pitch.
So while this involves a community infrastructure enemating from your farm, it is more holistic than enlisting the few for a long period. Few if anyone I have encountered have been capable to going on in the hard lifestyle of organic growing for more than a few weeks. It is very much like managing baseball pitchers: you want them to have good games and maximize efficiency, but you must not overwork them to harm their arm long term—they need a time to relax, a spirit to work, a time to reap a time to sow a well balanced healthy life with complimenting interests. Really, I likened myself to a pitching coach often.
Likewise, one’s first love must be growing, not a lover on the farm. Frankly, I tried to not have couples on the farm, especially younger ones. Their energy is misplaced, mixing work and relationships in a sinful world, and more than the singular assistant, they are capable of stumbling into mire and falling prey to the evil that dominates our world now. Yet the advertisements for organic agriculture,
Obviously farms should be bought by communities where tens of thousands contribute a hundred dollars, the whole farm is owned by the people, there is enough labor resource to work and expand farming, there is enough direct market as well; and the opportunity is offered for council towards a better and more sensible economy all around, where people put their stakes in what is commonly wanted rather than the guidance staked by the economic tentacles going in a disorganized and ignorant direction.
Because the marketing of crops is also senseless compared to the old days when crops went to the people around the farm who helped produce them, and the king and the city, and concentration of the city was understood as to preserve the countryside without filling it up with inhabitants.
I have also found it amazing that the Biodynamic calendar is not known or used, I swear by it and use it religiously and it’s so simple, all it means, and there is a biodynamic calendar giving all hours of each day, is that which ever horoscope is nearest the moon, whatever element it is, earth, fire, water, air, correspond with planting and transplanting, and even weeding and mulching and fertilizing and watering, though that is less important; of respectively root, fruit, leaf and flowering vegetables ex, potatoes, corn, lettuce, cauliflower. This kind of natural knowledge should spread fast, but our world is precisely where the status quo rejects common sense.
I went to a farm in Connecticut owned by an artist, which didn’t have electricity or water, save a water pump from a bog towards the vegetables; but it did have a lot of daily volunteers, and one long term resident, as well as several that arrived the week I was there. Though this operation was not putting its nose to the grindstone and very market driven, maybe it was all the flowers and botanical bed garden view to the whole place, it was filled with wonderful people, most of them female. These people generally did not work every day or spend nights there and were full of cheer and enthusiasm. It was nominally Buddhist with Buddhist mental understandings and a stupa up front adjacent to the 400 acre nature preserve surrounding the large field and lesser fenced in area where the crops and flowers were grown in many little beds. However he had 5 chicken coops, and I feel the chickens were not cared for well enough, and chickens shit manure was fertilizing everywhere, and eventually I got a headache from the constant stains and smells of chicken manure, when it rained a few days, and absolutely had to leave, though I had met a fine Tibetan Buddhist from Taiwan who reinforced the Buddhist focus on ourselves as minds searching for higher truths.
From here I went to a farm on the ny/ct border which was confidently organized, wider ranging and work oriented. It is ironic how the lax attitude at the former had the best people as workers, while the latter, if anything, had the opposite issue. Shows how nothing is ever perfect. This farm is peaceful because it is 50 miles north of nyc, while the one I was at last few years was 50 miles west, so there is some geographic compatibility, and of course, being not so far away from home, I feel more comfortable, known and habitual, with less rough effects.
Despite N.J.’s obvious corrupt inferiority to NY and Ct in protecting its nature, the mannerisms and values of my style in N.J. was compatible to dealing with the cold travails of Ct.
Vegetables were grown solely organically until the business movement of the 1900’s siphoned off farm workers, so the official percentage of those in agriculture in N.J. went down from seventy percent in the thirties to a very small percentage in 2010. Therefore chemicals were needed to kill the weeds because the manpower to do the weeding was now in business doing less directly productive tasks—even though I know it is understood that everyone should make organic growing a vital responsibility. So any reformation our economic situation, involves an aware increased valuation of food production.
And, in any event, there is another rural flank unnaturally weighted against organic growing: marijuana growing. It seems out of the way places are vital to marijuana growing, but this subsumation of farms, can not value the farm as the center of community because something secretive is being done. Thus a hostility emanates from these farms. While pot exists to compensate and increase functionality in an illegal world devoid of the constitutional manifestation of peaceful assembly which is so necessary towards having a fair society we may remark upon in an empowered sense. I am all for basement growing in suburban houses with grow lights; using farms as cover for pot growth, can be construed to infringe upon the agriculture movement; and in any event, has to work out its issues and psychological with agriculture.
Then there is a front with the nyc media. The media is so dominant in NYC, that selling to restaurants is difficult. Because the media lies in falsely representing human beings with capabilities of freedom they don’t demonstrate, the media is particularly disparaging an influence on marketing, as well as overcoming marketing with reference to the kingdom of god, or the sophisticated knowledge of marketing, distribution and benefit requires. I had troubles selling to restaurants in nyc, both for the obscuration of media and also, I must say, the domination of kitchens by people who don’t understand our cultural battles, and sometimes, our language. These tribal collective senses, which ignore how great Mexico is, is similar to an inability to apprehend and manifest common sense concepts such as agriculture, peaceful assembly, and the kingdom of god.
Yet the weight against common sense is everywhere. In family farms rather than those owned by many, in couples, usually educated in college about agriculture, traveling to farms, not being as fun as the single people or people who keep their work and relationships unencumbering each other. Were agriculture taught as the sexy trade it is, as the fun outdoorsy harmonious reflective appreciative and beautiful trade it is, rather than dry and boring and dependant upon conventional chemicals, rather than the galvanizing fulcrum to community, I understand agriculture to be ripe with. Were it taught as sexy, students might be able to resist the attraction to create humans confused with creating vegetables to eating. Because the strength to do agriculture in this situation requires a sense and humor, the pressure to be in a marriage, can mitigate and obscure.
I look back in bitter irony how I was not exposed to agriculture in middle and high school and in college as a logical and natural practice like math or writing. Though now, around Mercer County N.J. and beyond, praise the lord, many schools have gardens and vegetable growing instruction and exposure. I think how my college, while offering courses in political and economic vitality, ignored the link to vitality from agricultural awareness and sensitivity. With bitter irony I reflect that Amherst College is situated where a farm once was, and was adjacent to farms, so that farm work was a requirement there, 150 years ago. And yet I see how Amherst the town has preserved its farms around it through the requirement of a quorum of 236 to approve the destruction of farmland—whereas Mercer county NJ and thereabouts had 90 percent if not more its farmland translated for houses and increased population growth, a growth not discussed, whose manifestation reflects a benefit to metaphysics beyond those of the state and people.
How are the pockets of education and American life that know agriculture, unable to transmit its vitality and harmony to the rest of society. There is a such a great ignorance of the viable option and salvation of agriculture that my drunk friends, with lower class jobs and ways, are blown away by my organic practice, by the fact they never considered its viable option. It’s a defeat or admission of ignorance to convert to agriculture, yet you can hear these machinations of these sorts in their minds; for when the legal and spiritual and actual dimensions of agriculture is seen, this context increases the popularity of organic agriculture greatly.
What does the lack of exposure to agriculture say about our education? How do people in the agrarian world, transmit those understandings and ways? Obviously agriculture is understood as a logical and natural concern. Yet the regulation of our education and the flow of our economy stifles everything. Legally, one pays property taxes to pay for education one benefits from by having educated citizens around. Yet I see education as keeping away the will to think on one’s own and know the value of time and wealth of options. I have also to wonder why in New England Towns where quorums of 236 are required for community decisions to be made, where ten signatures can bring up an issue to be voted on, haven’t seemed to discuss the economy, or reform education with community understandings; where is the conviction to value and increase our time and life? Yet if we see how our news media is so selective in filtering of this more democratic and sensible evaluation of the community decision-making process, we may see a similar disconnect in what town meetings can control. Indeed it is obvious, good agencies and organizations lack the ability and will, to do effective good the people can relate to. This ability and will comes from heaven itself, but metaphysics restrict that energy and power, obviously, empirically.
Obviously phenomena this unnatural, has to be explained to make sense. The left side of my body, which makes me right handed, is a function of heaven draining blood from me towards a mind that creates western civilization all over earth. I have lost the will to direct great parts of my left. This vast motion is huge, scientific. Politics and logic feels the pressure of all the blood and creation of the lack of common sense of our status quo. N.J. has a difficulty apprehending itself as a victim of these corrupt metaphysics, because it is used to prosecuting perps, without understanding the nature of the harmony of N.J.
I recommend announcing to social and community groups and churches the vitality, benefit and opportunity of organic agriculture. Understand the benefits of peaceful assembly and community discussion, that judicious legislation, to be affirmed by a judge avowed to uphold the federal constitution, will change the nature of sit coms and TV as characters now go off to participate in a more proactive and involving polity.
Lest anyone doubt how prone young couples be to trouble, let me detail the five young couples I let stay at the farm I managed, before incorporating a strategy that did not allow or consider such; beyond my testimony that people singularly working for me, worked harder and more effectively. OK, the first couple I had my first year when I really knew little and wasted time with limited understanding, I took to a second operation I had going where I harvested what I planted in the spring and they went into the ladies house whose land I was sharing and had sex in the bathroom. This is just completely unacceptable behavior. The second young couple in my third year; I had bought an insurance policy whereby for a dollar a month, if there was a drought, there was a payout of cocaine to help the grower through the drought. And the effects of the drought, the sun beating down incessantly, the lack of rain, climbing the hill to the fields of injured crops; this is nothing to scoff at; so I was relying on cocaine to get me through this challenge; and offering it to this couple, apparently cocaine has an ill effect on the young couple, insofar as the ease and peace it provides, shines a light showing the unnecessary quality to couple hood, and thus is potential danger to relationships. Ergo, I never saw them again. One of them called their mother who glared as she hoisted them into the car and I never saw them again. Even as for the rest of the year and beyond, police and white trash and random people, inquired into my knowledge of them, and insinuated into the availability of this insurance pay-out.
Then there is or was a couple that are good old friends of mine, and I want them to only come out to the farm separately because they argue loudly and no one wants that; however they came together out one time, and resulted in loud arguing no one wants to hear, and in exchange for some packs of cigarettes I finally got them back to the train station. I give many people a chance, but if they bring down the curve to much, it’s to the train station for a ticket where you want to go.
Then there was a wonderful more mature couple of great people who understood the moral ambiguity to couple hood. Both of them had warrants on them and were caught eventually later in the year on western states and did state time. That hurt so much. Because they were individually such great people and a conscientious if flawed couple, we really bonded through time on the farm together, especially as they explained how they were innocent.
Then there was the couple that inherited my position at the farm this year, affording me the opportunity to gain tremendously by experiencing other operations. They burned down parts of the farmhouse, parts of which were built centuries ago and on the historical society list.
Then there was a gay couple, through my attempts to resolve homosexuality with the wholesome quality of farm work, that only resulted in the most crazy behavior I had seen yet; including snorting fertilizer, sniffing what there is to sniff, and trying to run over deer in the fields with my poor pick up truck, and barricading themselves up in a shack and refusing to come out. These are all the young couples that have been on the farm. The other side of it are all the wonderful single people who enjoyed themselves, worked on their problems, focused on their goals through the work ethic, who are valued and great people.
But as I said, I feel I am underneath a creation of the world, whose mechanism I reach and may implement more through meditation than this writing. Yet trying to reach where I am not, and overcome the twisting of my body with weights and habitations quite new and difficult, though obvious at a level I have yet to attain. Sometimes I feel my mind is as big as the earth. Yet everyone I encounter seems puffed up with and flexing a fineness that doesn’t need the logic I cite. The only way I know to turn around towards putting our heads together and dissolving the contracts of relation is to understand the benefit of the universe working out its issues, through an ending of old relationships and understanding and an embrace of common mediation of metaphysic through peaceful assembly. Once everyone realizes the whole thing is about marriage, politics is more ably transcended with common sense.
As long as I am reminiscing, let me also remind you about the edict against work place romances in general, and a women, hiding out from her abusive husband, but at the same time having his permission to be there, and she was the best worker, could supervise, and work well alone, and I promised her husband it would all be strictly work on a farm with his girl—well, the latest fugitive on the run from the law giving me work hiding out at the farm, who was fundamentally unsound regarding sympathy for his victim, his victim who was no mean person, whom he could easily use his charm to apologize to and thus have the charges against him dropped, that plan justified my allowing him on the premises, I guess they talk about me in state prisons as an alternative place to run to if the coppers get too hot; well this fellow forced himself on the girl, and then the girl left the next day, unable to stand his presence, meanwhile the fugitive did jail exercises in the front fields, instead of making himself inconspicuous by the pond; and eventually he was tackled to the ground by 7 police officers when he stupidly returned to the scene of the crime because he though everything had blown over; but I am straying from some points to make the tangential point, that different natives deal with guilt differently, according to their attitude; and yet this sort of help to fugitives in the name of clearing their name through the kingdom of god and mediation, even though, they have always ended up getting caught down the road, has bred a certain proverbial loyalty of them to me, as being among the few people who actually helped them on the run. And you must remember, often I do not know they are on the run until they confess it to me out of trust; which I now entirely discourage, and everyone has to sign a contract promising not to tell me if they have warrants on them; and, if, they are at the farm not because their first love is growing food, but because they are on the run; this is an issue; because everyone’s first love has to be agrarian. At the same time, increasingly more prisons or halfway houses are allowing inmates to work on local farms. Once they escaped, and they had to shut down all the schools in the area. I am trying to say that often an inescapable bond is created here.
The hardest task to agriculture seems to be weeding. The second week at a farm is important compared to the first, because being self-regulating, things tend to correct themselves over the weekend. So there are new visions and deeper understandings the second week. I think a long time ago when Miles Sunterra wrote about the incredible lightness of being, permeating society, he is referring to, I now see, the lightness people feel, without necessarily knowing it, of being involved in a life without agriculture. There is such a health in the tasks of organic growing, and the country has such a need for dynamic health, which agriculture provides, that occasionally people pay me ten dollars to exercise there doing agricultural tasks for me. Ultimately the goal is to convince a local high school football coach that farm work over the summer makes better teammates than the satanic weightlifting that goes on; and guarantee him an improved team from such commitment from each player over the summer.
As I am sure you notice, even though I try to travel from farm to farm this year, actually interspersed with nonagricultural more paying jobs, I am very general and nonspecific about the situations, speaking in vague, almost comic terms. I am very inhibited about specifying what I actually experienced, ever since an older frail women read an article I wrote, that included how I saved her life as we were floating down the Delaware in a flotilla of boats and rafts with beers tied to floating alongside; and she was very angry about this depiction of the capsizing I saw and saved; as well as general depictions of her as cranky and often not in a good mood.
Nevertheless, I will spend a real paragraph or two on the subject of what goes on in Connecticut from a mets fan eye. They put I-95 way too close to the Connecticut sound. There are hun-like hoards roaming about beer selling convenience stores near pizzerias and things like that. Beer, apparently is important, going by the advertising. There were no basketball courts. That part of my life has been diminished. There is a fascination with pizza, I think from the movie, Mystic Pizza. The organic operation I was at had no electric or plumbing, save a pump from a bog to water the numerous small beds of flowers and vegetables. Yet thousands of women were there to visit the artist who runs the place. And all of them were A student top notch class people women. I even really enjoyed the friendship of a Tibetan Buddhist from Taiwan. The young guy there was a fiercely moral, loyal and very much at sea sort of fellow. Yet the chickens were poorly treated, resulting in very sad cockadoodles all the time, and especially after rain illuminated the scent of the composted chicken manure used to fertilize all the beds, which caused such a noxious vapor that I got a fricken headache the second day of which compelled my fleeting desertion. There was a stupa there the only one in ct, and it was near a large lake at the other end of the huge nature preserve of deer flied forests surrounding the growing operation. The place was Buddhist, in mind; yet somehow of atonement and denial, resignation rather than vitality that runs to get electricity and plumbing.
So I went west just across the Connecticut line, after a night camping on the Appalachian trail in Connecticut, and have been enjoying the operation here, providing a tranquility an agrarian lifestyle offers, and not far geographically from where people know me, and I, them.
And yet the old conundrum where to go from here. On the one, I can stay here, and all is fine and wonderful; on the other, I do believe I have a commitment to a dairy farm 2 hours north of here in two weeks that is binding; though the transition from vegetables to milky cheese, may be a goatee one, I am committed to a future of Bess the Cow and Kid, the Goat, providing milk for a metal bucket each weak I turn into cheese to feed my aging mother in future decades. So by going north to Vermont I might work at a larger operation to view the labor schema there, because I am beginning to see a pattern here which fascinates me, has drawn blood so to speak, compelling the honor of my studied interest.
And yet not only is nothing as simple as it seems, nothing is as simple as it seems for a reason often that no one knows. In this case, it is that Quebec is evil, and right behind Vermont, and Vermont neither knows me, being far away from the comfortable confines of NJ’s bordering states, and Connecticut, nor is aware of the psychic yet actual evil enemating from the catholic ravaging of Quebec. Few people may know that not only is the only way to make it in Montreal by being for Quebec secession, that though they call their hockey team the Canadians, and few popular songs on the radio are about succession, I asked the queen of England to free them as they want; since legally Canada is a commonwealth of England, subject to the spirit of the centuries of royalty. However, the queen did not grow in stature and popularity by freeing Quebec, and Quebec, I’ve realized has consistently inflicted bad karma on my few and brief stays in Vermont, apparently unaware of the courtiership I have carried for it, like Lafayette did for America. Quebec dictates such as schizophrenia to Vermont, that I may not make it up to that operation, in which case I plan to enjoy working a few more days here, then splitting to see several numerous friends I have made from NY, who have always felt sorry for my being from ravaged N.J., and longstanding invited me upstate when I have time. Well a part of me thinks as much as I would like to see another farm, there are still months of agriculture ahead, and a few days off touring NY, with the opportunity to garner a day of work in the subject here there, what with my command of googling on the internet??? This exploration is worthy, not threatening, indeed, NY and people from NJ, have a pleasant history together, I hope. I do not feel Vermont is happening due to the undue influence of Quebec, even though there are two people I already know who want to see me. I feel that going west in NY, will put Vermont off for a week, which by then may give me an option to see Vermont, and going west in ny will offer the opportunity for day jobs at agricultural opportunities. I have really not taken a few days off from hard work since late May. This weekend was the first two days in a row I was able to rest and not move strenuously, I am looking forward to a few days off visiting friends in NY to the west of here, and maybe check out a farm in Pennsylvania not too far.
My ability to take a few days off, I would think, causes anxiety among the regular workers here, whose grueling yet pleasant schedule requires strength, a wise psychology, sense of humor, balance and well rounded perspective. The solution is trading and moving people around from farm to farm so that they see many farms, which isn’t so bad, and can take a few days off in between, for which there need be slightly more people than farms; The more people turned on to agriculture the less a few people have to do it.
A few more facts about Connecticut. They have a very nicely decorated and architected library in Old Say Brook. They have bags to pick up dog poop at dog areas. The Connecticut sound offers nice views. I was unable to find a basketball court or people playing basketball. I did stumble upon the community at a little league game. This absence of basketball or minorities is because of the Uconn basketball program, which actually separates the races so proof and actuality of the falseness of a race’s dominance of a basketball program may be exposed. Eastern Connecticut is much better preserved than N.J., a kinder attitude to the environment is observed. Yet no farms called me back from Connecticut.
Then there is the tendency of Connecticut to be a bit rough in the first few days, towards strangers such as myself. There is never any suggestions of fighting things out, in my society, because I am always apologetic, and not being married and having kids, prohibits anger from those who do. People who have kids, can not have the same latitude towards violent toughness because of the moral ambiguity of children, and the example parents are compelled to set. And yet this reasonable attitude was routinely surpassed in some surliness towards me. In some ways this seemed to stem from a “the rich are evil” mentality that allegedly permeated society towards this instance. Being the Constitution State, and the first state to have police, Connecticut is well aware of the moral ambiguity and falseness to the logic of federalism, a republic that unites regions in a very strong alliance that can not break into wars among its members. For this is not needed anymore, stultifying, and the logic for it even back then, by Madison and Hamilton sold us from the virtue of self-sustaining small villages, to a mercantile, homogenizing economy whereby a few mercantilist, marshalling markets, could make a lot of money off production. Thus Hamilton and Madison reference a creator, towards the understanding that the creator is responsible for the federal government’s incorporation of greedy mentality, a creator, not them, mandated us away from the more complex contracts and tender care from smaller states or countries that can come out of having had several or many countries instead of one. Yet after a few days, this anger passes, and is only seen as evidence of a strong state commanding a loyalty beyond the family. For Connecticut strikes me as bound to be a positive right wing state—mired now, in a socialist government, in the sense that it does not deal with real issues, or can be appealed to explain its actions, satisfactorily. Yet ultimately each of us flexes we are fine in this world. We are very weak in appealing to each other to create a more sensible world.
Romantics are less than the situation they are fighting against. Perhaps “classical” is what we want to be called. Yet I feel that the rocks of the universe that seem to be manifesting the Kingdom of God—-do they want to reproduce us? Is this creation a mistake, whose rectification is along a path of general rectification. As a tribe, the main thing, the only thing, we do, is reproduce. When did I turn into the soldier I was fighting? Wouldn’t I create the communicative world, and regard what should be done, thus protecting society and being a leader? I am at sea, under stars I probably know unconsciously, and sensing future weathers, but never land in anything that doesn’t contrast this sea. I wonder if sleeping outside in the mosquitoes, who I have killed so many of, often by slapping myself in the head near the ear–maybe those hits to the head, did something, too many of them? On the other hand, a learned delicate slap to the side of the head to kill yet another mosquito, is the learned mastery of the captain at sea, who doesn’t want to be at sea, is on land, and searching for an unconscious harmony he knows is there, but obscured by all the falsehood, and scientifically the wiring of my head to make me perceive what doesn’t really exist, that flows my blood to some system in the sky, producing western civilization.
Scientifically, I’ve got to get over the plate, the science of how the anus is broken a bit, to create blood and move the people appropriately. There needs a standard set of starting points.
C an the pot side do it? I’ve’ complained of does anyone care, no one cares, not the people who feign to be good, or the more responsive people who realize their limitations. Even though the democratic party might be able to create a world where there is no crime and our judicial apparatus may be aimed at the officials in public light, who are leadings us falsely and fakery.
Though government might not act in the reality of fomenting people talking to each other to create the world, or a reality of what really is the causes of the flaws of western civilization; one may not say the cause of this is bribery by the rich. Yet bribery by the evil to the corrupt seems to be a constant in the equation. This may signify the entrenched status quo, everything of which, must be renegotiated together. Satan may want us to think the rich enjoys their riches through oppression; and the rich, if it is true, may want us to think Satan causes the ills on earth.
God is the name for the stuff and force about earth in the universe that predates the universe. Earth and its life, grew within a universe much older. This is much stronger us and therefore, we probably are God, this way. You and the mind, represent God and must guide god, and let God guide
But to return to the ruminations upon agriculture. After a week in Eastern Connecticut on the sound; there was 9 days on a farm in NY halfway up Connecticut, a few miles from the border. One fascinating thing about growing, which you have to have done to know; is that at a farm, managing the growth of crops, time speeds by; the months pass in fast panoramic glory, there is never enough time to do everything that would make the farm perfect, the months speed by, as each month has its own goals, the first speeds in, the 30ieth speeds out. The seasons change with epochal angst and tragedy and hope and success.
Traveling around from month to month and farm to farm, different places and different dimensions of organic growing, time is lazy and slow; What has past, does not have the lasting relationship of the investment of work and management. Things are grown not for those near the ground you stand; but markets for other people. The sweaty anxiety of the small businessman is replaced by the mellow easy going humor of the laborer.
And there was a Taiwanese Tibet Buddhist, playful, attractive, smart, gentle, with integrity, that I had to rescue from the operation in Connecticut, that in my mind, was not dealing with the issue of plumbing and electric, noxious chicken shit; but very fine people helping there. She was ready to go home and wanted her to see a more profitable and dealing operation. So, after adjusting to this new farm, established 1795, I called her and told her I would meet her in NYC, only 50 miles south, and she could take the train, and I would take her back to the farm and introduce her to the people there, and they were ready to have her, because I was moving to another place and she could replace me, which would make me a cut above the ordinary laborer because I replaced my self with a girl I knew everyone would like. The whole notion of replacing yourself so you may move on, without a skip in step, is a lost art, but it used to be a standard whereby none could move on without replacing itself. So I went into NYC to meet her at Strawberry fields in central park. She was a little scared to go into a dark place known for scariness, but my friends met her, and we goofed around with the crazies by the john Lennon memorial She was quite a sport. Even though the Taiwanese opinion of pot seemed to coincide with the odd sentiment I picked up in Connecticut which is that pot causes mental health problems; which is ludicrous and its opposite resounds through most of the land.
People were happy I was bring yiang to the farm, because there is a shortage of farm labor, so when contracts of several months of labor are agreed to, and the real strenuousness of the job can catch up to inexperienced workers, people can’t be let go, because there isn’t the option of letting people go, because who is there to replace their hopes?
See, at the farm I managed, it was mainly me, but my help comprised a totally different code; in that I drew from locals fighting cancer and weight, and friends of friends fighting addiction and a lack of work ethic, and yuppies, augmenting their job with the positive supplement of agriculture, all of whom helped me from a few hrs to a few weeks. I would never contract one for a few months, because the longer it goes on there is a burnout , and unless people really take care of themselves, augmenting farm work with the healthy contrast of books, hikes, bars, girls, friends; I can’t afford burned out help. The people who helped me, were rejecting office work seeking help to contrast the sin of the world, said fuck you to the world through a decadent lifestyle of alcohol and not conforming to the work week. The people at this latest farm are the kind that are not leaving a primary job or lifestyle for a few meritorious days of farm work; but have studied agriculture in college and are interns, like doctors, putting themselves through long hours to eventually run a farm; but this turns off potential farmers because the hard nature of the worker is too much over many months for someone out of college. These people must value the physical work over the mammon of office work, be turned on by different places and at all times know this is very hard work. Ultimately it makes sense for many to do a little work, than a few to do much for all. That’s the nature of farming that must be unweighted , released,; contingent upon community and maturity, which is how agriculture is weighted to a wiser polity. Our officials aren’t really elected, so how then can they claim and manifest their offices? Wouldn’t real officials go about and insist upon the end of crime through personal interaction with everyone, and shared serious understandings; that then moves to question the leadership, and movement of our society and thought.
I’ve always had trouble selling at farmers markets. They take time from the fields, are no guaranteed sale, and require hours. Yet I realized the solution; being to hang out at the farmers market talking real unconsidered things, arousing interest and customers. This crystallized because on my way out, I stopped at the local farmers market to elucidate upon marketing to restaurants, incorporating a teaching of the truth within the confines and hopes of marketing. This attracted people. Truth and marketing could go together, essential and obvious as that is.
It is ironic also that my boss is a Muslim. The thing about love to a Buddhist, is that it is like sin, and a corruption of this sinful world. Like TV, it takes mind away from what really is, to an attractive diversion. I would create mind games to play with other workers in the field, such as truth or fiction, in which we tell a story the others have to guess if it is truth or fiction Likewise, contemporary history; does Lindsey Lohan need more jail time? Does Chelsea Clinton’s marriage increase the pressure on you to marry? The second week seemed to carry the affirmation of hard work, incorporation of truth, and the need for the farm to go on without me, and adjust within its own machinations; so I went to visit people that used to work with me in western ny, where I am now. People without agriculture are different and the whole thing between the universe and heaven, the need to discuss and create a better society; can this be motivated by those in need, who have turned to the aids of that to compensate for a not right society.
Well, anyway, I went from the Hudson valley to Bath NY, not to be confused with Bath England, where there is a lot of partying also, but done by everyone in bars, and squares per tourism, amid the golden stones of Bath the Romans built their stone buildings from; instead of in Bath NY, at a few party houses, which swell up and overflow onto the sidewalks 2 nights out of three—-because if you walk very far from those sidewalks, you come across non partying people, who are in a good mood too; as if cheered up by the nonchalance, mind boggling, decadence—-at least no one tried to take my hat. But again, I remind you, I share with you my travels in as general terms possible, to avoid offending the three dimensional with my two dimensional paper-words. And also because I believe a natural extension of the American Right to not incriminate yourself, because the signigicance and reality of the kingdom of god absolves the body and blames a crude mind we try to decipher which has eliminated free will; and I believe this constitutional largess extends to the right to not be written about by people who know nothing.
That being said; these are the lower class people, and there is nothing wrong with the term lower class or the lower class people; indeed I met over 50 lower class people in a mere 3 nights there, which is more than the number of upper class people I’ve met, my whole life. There is something friendlier about poor people, no doubt, sociological studies would have conclusively concluded. The lower class has more laughs. This can not be debated. Untill historically recently, there were just two classes. The middle class has a longer life span. The middle class siphoned people off into business; whereby the discernment and deliberation of community issues because incorporated by the state with local officials, instead of natural concern. And the state is no fit actor for this discussion, because they caused it, and they have a natural stake in it, and by the kingdom of god, representative officials were no more elected than crimes really committed; a paper world, my friends, the old adages can’t fight out of. Most importantly, while there are legal ideals, there are no spiritual guidelines and basic charters such as most fraternities have.
The great thing about towns in NY is they have gazebos in a park in the center of town, where one may engage the actors and try to protect the town from stupidity. This is tremendously exciting; the prospect of entire army of a town marching to aid me; shades of Shay’s rebellion, one of the causes for a federal government, except here all power is inherently in the people, a precept of state constitutions, because we benefit the people, by allowing discussion of their time and life; a sensible discourse, government is alienated from, and their challenge. Of course, liberalism also siphons off from this discourse, the way the tribunes failed the plebes, and democrats fail the people; so much is spent creating an illusion, the magicians corrupt the good institutions.
But at a spiritual level, this milieu of beer and sharing and, possibly construed as decadent, priorities; this slight and happy ignoring of work ethic; these are the people that used to do agriculture, and they know deep down and with certainty the vitality and viability of agriculture; and they know the artificial absence of agriculture from the domain of their mind. These are the people one tries to recruit from to turn onto agriculture: the other kind, when it comes to a few days of labor, are yuppies with a conscience; local lads…..These are people whom guilt motivates.
This Rochester, Elmira, Corning, Bath Steuben County area, seemed from decades ago, simpler and less uptight than Washingto DC and NYC/NJ outlets; stubbled republicanism, absent quiet, no police, perplexing, skitsophrenic, town economy. And yet there were many tragic stories, as if NY does not know racial harmony. Men and women in state prison, or looking at a little county time, or losing their children to tragedies, or fathers in prison for bank robbery—–my lord, these tragic story lines, on the nicest, gentlest sort of people, perhaps an absorption and ignorance of racial alianation and reality—as if the fact that there are different colors on earth and how great that is; is hard to register—as if NY state is from a nearby planet, that doesn’t have the individuated life we have; and gazing upon earth and seeing the different races, that’s incomprehensible–Venus has no understanding that different races are important and special for their difference—Venus has no idea relationships involve a degree of risk-management. It is all so removed from Venus, that NY is obviously sacrificing a safer and realer way, so that somehow Venus sees NY cares about her, and this means something to her, and this will ripple and roll into a saving of humans from the kingdom of god, as it all comes together.
Then of course, if I can speak super-frankly, without offending anybody, by keeping it real—There is an overrepresentation of fat by women; who are general gentle and humorous and socialized. And I have been meaning to tell them, this is like a pennance from the lack of addressing the issue of interracial dating. What more can I say? The bad influence on men of color? The ensuing violence that can not be reported without a questioning of the alianation races can feel here? It’s conincidence with a ridiculous and untrue racial domination of sports? Until this is known and dealt with by women of all color, this weight problem may persist.
All right; the problem with oriental women is that they are preoccupied with their parents and that moral ambiguity causes their uptightness; but the problem with white women is that they don’t understand the obligation towards racial harmony; but as I said, that’s a little hard for venus to get as well. Now this understanding of a planet as having a consciousness, within the universe is hard to fathom, and reminds you of the ancient religion of planetary worship; and these orbs are spinning and going through a much longer time than I or we, are. And if an orb like earth gave life, must not an orb have life that hasn’t been given. And what if they are much smarter than me? What if Venus understands every word I write now? What is she doesn’t like sexist humor? What if she is one of those people who mark the line people much less such as myself cross? What if it is one thing to walk the line like Johnny Cash, and another thing to cross a line. The problem with being published is it makes you staid and boring because those particular nuances I find funny are sure not resound across America. And it is better to write nothing, than have to go through the humiliation writing can cause, again. My whole attitude is based on humor. If the humorless forces advancing, whittling the salt off human like the kingdom of god itself; I am reminded that one must play both ends, humor and humorlessness.
I have found there are two understanding ways to deal and approach people I may not know. The first is that we all republicans, by which I mean responding and genuinely caring and having a bit of control. The other is dynamically similar to this, but represents the society of people who are my friends who are not active in their local republican party, and tend towards conservative beliefs, and it comes out like this: Like a great big circle, we all know someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows you. We all have a similar friend. Someone I am close to, is close to you or close to someone who is close to you. This is a very salubrious therapy on the fraydom that can come in a subjucated mind; the vulnerability democrats and liberals ultimately feel unless they joke around to alleviate things and then realize the world is not serious in the way they act like it is.
And as long as we are covering sociological issues; some of the males I know, who are very good in heart, and thoughtful and generous and highly socialized, are serial daters. This term I think applies to people who have to be in a relationship, actively seek and attempt to destroy fodder for a relationship, may be anxious and not right without a love, can have ongoing loves, strike a tough pose, and are just incorridgeable when it comes to women, and have never gotten married. We must address this issue. Most people are cool. I prefer a society of single people. Freedom signifies a society where I and everyone, is not getting hurt. People with issues must address them; be forced to speak on the subject, to fend off challenge, or lose their authority.
But who or what causes the serial dater or expressor of human, or feeds and takes care of the Kingdom of God? I always thought it was the Kingdom of Heaven? But might it not be the universe; a highly intelligent universe, perfectly understands me; and its mystery, the only one I can discern, is what are the parts of the universe? What else there is there to comprehend? It’s time, sense thereof? Or long term relationships? Or annoyance and pain perhaps? Or the way it senses. Because already I am not trying to feel Venus with my fingers and nose, even though the sense of smell is very potent and I actually feel I can smell the hot vapors of Venus, though first I smell the fires of the sun, then the fires of distant stars, and then the vapors of my friendly Venus. My point trying to be to link the vapours in my nose to the application of my mind towards a perception of the possibly perceptive powers of a planet. Obviously there, they are slower than we are; and slowing down will reveal what they have to reveal, not my anxiety.
So what expresses humans, the universe or the anxiety of humans, is expressed by what? One always thinks it be the eternal human mind wound up in a daily tedium expressing the annoying irrelevancy of Western Civilization. Those millions of members typing away the daily insensible; makes the afterlife representative of something worse than life in this material zone. Yet maybe the power of the universe is far more powerful, none of this is hard to figure out, and Heaven just sits back, comforting as it may.
And what is the correllation between the creation of western civilization and the reproduction of the Kingdom of God? Who does both of these things? If one is stopped, does the other? Scientifically, my blood is involved—making the kingdom talk, and like some weird veil over earth used to create the illusion of western civilization. Everything not talk around me, is the writing and acting that constitutes Entertainment. The news is entertainment, because the news is only 10-20 percent of what we talk about; nor is what we would talk about, if we should talk about what is important, and inhibits the creation of sensible talk by the people. The sounds of entertainment is not the talk the people would talk about, nor talk much about anyway. Take the instance the thematic of foreclosure. There is a lot of entertaining talk about all the unemployment and the sympathy for the foreclosing; but really the talk is about where to move to, what are the prospects for another job, what are the moral dimensions to this situation; real estate agent types, the housing market itself—and ideally, were Talk not inhibited by the vast maw of Entertainment, the weakness we have to putting our heads together and admitting and hearing the admission that they are not fine; there is a Time and Life, to discuss.
And what about porn, if we are considering as much as possible? What makes the Kingdom of God engage in pornographic acts, what moves them beyond the threshold of the people, the way Entertainment is beyond the threshold of Talk? Who or what makes porn? Who controls that domain, forces such behavior? The Universe, or Heaven? And for that matter, even more significantly who forces reproduction and who creates the Kingdom of God? And maybe the universe is capable of compassion and care for the Kingdom of God? In which case maybe the universe can care about me, and answer my prayers—-and the universe has shifted from a miserable pained hell, to a peaceful caring subject that can answer my prayers. And this is where I am in my thought. Can the universe answer my prayers, and if so, for how long. Can it care about my back? Does it deliver a degree of my political prayers by lightening up a bit in its news? When unreal stuff is said on the internet, there is more control than without the internet. And when real stuff is said on the internet, freedom and truth is increased. In any event there is a similarity between pornography and the media; in that no one I know would mix sex and money and do the sex pornography does so; and it is equally hard to imagine adults promulgating the lies and unimportant things passed off as truth, the way reporters and journalists do. This means both professions have controlled people in it; the way people in power may be more removed from natural sensibility and behavior; these people are wholly controlled, in the name of artifice, and elaborate western civilization, creating an illusion to dominate you, and fool and cost people like me.
Conservatively, I am a little tired and should just stay in the company of my dear friend Terri near Little Falls, and her friend and helper Theresa, and not have to move far. However another way is to visit Vermont, get close to my upcoming job which is on the Vermont/ny border, and see if exposure to another state does some good?
However as I come closer to departure, I feel the wanderlust in me. Moreover New York is very different from Connecticut—though their anxiety may be the same, in Connecticut, it stifles, and in NY it does not stifle as much.–but I knew and know Quebec evil, fortified against, see against NY too and felt I protected myself from Quebec and attribute this misfortune to starting to negotiate with the universe. And the universe existed before earth, and thus we seek the past, and something so offended by the earth, let alone its greatness….I always saw the universe as unable to acknowledge its guilt over its guilt over something bad that happened is what made it’s acknowledgement difficult—and makes it difficult for the universe to acknowledge the being and the kingdom of god, because the being and the kingdom of god, is the signification of something bad that happened.
Yet for the pockets of solar systems of dead stars that predated earth, earth is greater than their misery, and thus their acknowledgement of the kingdom of god and the human being, is and comes from, within their existent exigent misery, in that they know it all along as something better than them, rather than my false assumption in the evolution of my understanding of truth that because it is bad they can not take responsibility, as opposed to something so great, even as worsened, not that they are annoyed, but that they recognize what annoys them, earth itself, the possibility of races of people living, what is, that is. So that something very bad happens is not something deal with, though I am trying to broaden the circle towards it, but this is now ways means they do not know what happened. It’s the theory Elin knew all along and just didn’t object because she thought the whole situation was good, rather that the whole thing was her fault; for encouraging such relation. It’s knowledge they know, just don’t feel guilt, being miserable. Which means their understanding comes from within their miserable psyche rather than from earth’s particular fate.
This is the understanding that governed my mother. The attitude of a government that has no authority because its alleged never responds to challenges to it; whereas my little authority maintains that authority maintains itself by encouraging and answering to challenges, successfully, justifying its authority; is my father. Some people are the universe, others are the government.
And possibly, the stripping loss of my mother, whose security was all about me, in frequent visits, and fortnight or more periods of being in the same household, is consistent with that care being able to be spent in the future on more other people and places; affording me the opportunity to turn and say, “what can I do about this?” upon an affront without worrying about the universe.
In that I mean, while New York is culpable for such error, the problem that causes such error, I have solved, and it could never happen again; in that when bad things do happen, try to find the cause so it never happens again. And it that sense going to Vermont was bad luck, again; and yet it was a good move, I reassured myself on leaving it for Saratoga; because I saw the depressed Vermont, and experienced first hand the effect upon its psyche by Quebec; Lord the Queen should just free that country, who the heck cares if Canada is cut in two, deal with it, study Contracts. Change the name of the Montreal Canadians, for crying out loud; put out some pop tunes on Quebec independence, have more catchy French tunes.
And I clearly saw the milder effect of Quebec on N.Y.. And so, for the first time, being aware, of how messed up Vermont is, really was an interesting perspective of Vermont. In fine contrast to the exuberant and ridiculous bar scenes I stumbled across in N.Y.
Then the case that my legal actions, even to administrative nonfederal and merely advice giving, bring bad luck because the universe is afraid of its guilt, because when everything does change for the better, what the heck is wrong; But see here my evolution gains an understanding that once good starts to transform misery; misery will exist no more; yet that shouldn’t scare the miserable. Right? Does fear impose a reaction upon misery?
And ultimately there is only one sure way to prevent accidents, and that is to slow down the world spinning around me. Fairly that may not make misery fear.
And yet what New York forgets, which it should never again, if it reads this, is that the universe is more miserable than it. If it, this imagination of the state, this rendering in my mind of power, unifying without consent perhaps, and not dealing with the kingdom of god, yet never the less exigent, apprehends and cognates that the universe is miserable, and needs o be apprehended that way occasionally; these accidents, sex offenders, female inmates and foreclosures and pills—all these may stop, if we remember the misery of the universe, because then the paper’s misery is a relation to the universe’s misery. By seeing the universe’s misery, we realize the universe does not want out misery, or our misery is attributable to it, and therefore there may be no need to succumb to it, if we remember and care about the universe’s misery, that care and membrance, might take out the stain upon us, a stain that may in turn be said to be caused by our ignorance of the misery of the universe.
Moreover at near this hospital in Trenton my mother is at, there are a lot of black people in Trenton, and Trenton, has more spirit, than most black places, I believe, to the degree its high school has museum like architecture; yet as we all know, there is this droop they may be prone to; and as I wizen New York to the misery of the universe I wish to wizen to replace the droop with spiff. This is done by understanding the world is a show upon me. I am the only one you are against. I am against you, and agrarian; and you are against me; that is all your life is; being against me. Everything makes sense, the city is possible; not because everything makes sense and a city is possible to be more than a place that protects the countryside, but because it is all aligned against me; to fool me, that all is essentially fine, earth as it is in the papers, and the universe don’t got nothing to do with nothing. This is what you are to try to project, and in its opposition to me, is not hard; so try to get into it, and end the droop, the whole thing is a show to fool me; the world of appearance; prohibits any of that nearly ridiculous lack of bond; because bonds are deeper than appearances, and indeed, nearly separate.
So the channel changed near Saratoga Sprgs. And God controlled the remote. I went from hitting the Saratoga’s farmer’s market, with my brand of secret agrarian police, planning to then win a few bucks betting on the racing stakes at the racetrack, then meeting my Taiwanese Buddhist friend to go hiking in the Adirondacks with, before showing her an organic farm she could work her, thus cultivating my organic farm connections; to leaving after feeding the chickens, chicks, baby and stud goats, angry pigs, which was oddly, very soothing and therapeutic, as these things are done little after dawn, and then off to Vermont to pick up my animal co star Sammy, who kept him a week, I was at the cheese and animal farm, where I finished a large bottle of port with her old roommate, to practically pass out, out of depression of the change in channels; ate a fine meal she cooked upon waking up, and off to NJ from the deepest part of Vermont, picking up my Taiwanese Tibetan Buddhist friend whom I hooked up with a farm an hour north of NYC; whereby I picked her up, having met her a day or two before being overwhelmed by chicken shit vapors upon rain; and was able to replace myself, for after a night of goofing off, I took off to western ny.
Where I got to the hospital sun morn before surgery, her mind was perspicacious, but surgery itself is hard to heal from and there is a long battle to go; the issue of swallowing necessitating tubes; maybe they can adjust nerves playing with hot and cold compresses? That’s in Back To Eden by Jethro Kloss.
But as I said, my mother always was the universe, spinning on so fast ahead of me, never really being able to focus on the kingdom of god, though I now see the universe sees it all along; just dealing with it; and the denial coming not as proof it is not recognized; but as merely an obligation of media, and an obligation of the universe to assert its fear as a defense mechanism that recognizes my power; in that my friends go still; as if they don’t recognize my power; as in my power to change the universe; where man and earth is central to any change; making the articles in the media, and their necessary, but false assertion; though their necessity may not be; the idea of denial may be consistent and moreover be the form, the channeling of the universe so, into the media, be a form we seek to change; that unites the many parts of the universe, or the many parts that inhabit it; yet as part I don’t mean to signify a lack of autonomy; or even independence, but the same relegation, we on earth feel.
I also see the focus of this form in my heart; as if each is worth enough to be owned by the universe; which, part, burning out as body deteriorates, perhaps leaves a burnt odor of death; or a burnt reflection of the passing of worth. This focus of form on my heart; really, signifies the unhappiness of the universe, transitioning it upon its reflection upon government; as it will leap to troublesome character; and what causes that, was an invisible but dark misty veil of vapor rippling electroplasmically across an electrified field, some pulse of signification, registration, perhaps necessary, perhaps not.
I see this concentration of negotiation as commencing an inverse reaction resulting in the bad luck; rather than New York states vulnerability; and insofar as its planet of the apes status; felt rather protected and harmonious, helpful and the like; especially in the ventures towards Christian farms and bible studies, race tracks and the lower class, hikes and winter farming with rows and greenhouse, northern country, a place to move to for more time; this channel this changed; in way that really made me appreciate my getting the hang, finally of this transition from one farm a season, to be traveling farm labor, which I was beginning to love and feel needed; learning about animals and cheese.
If there is one thing I learned about 2006, when 4 important people in my life died; oddly, both 2006 and 2010 mirror each other in my commitment to farming a certain way; 2006 established I truly was committing to this farm; 2010, I truly am committing to working on several farms a year; it’s what I want to do, and feel needed. And I worry now about a rash of deaths. Because not one person dies, Marco, the monarch of central park whose exchange of empties for cases of beer in a shopping cart, coupled with his spirituality rejuvenated and made central park, a very good friend. And Hector, who I had worked with occasionally in Hoboken since I was 17. And Ed, who was a boyfriend of a favorite friend of mine; and Elaine, a dear old family friend, of extended household, and long hours of conversation and sympathy. So I worry I don’t how to stop that now. 2010, that half life number, is causing bad luck, across the world, and in my life. There were some years like 1005 and 1205 and 1809 that had half life numerology in it. But there was an 0 in it that threw off the puissant direct effect, 2010 conveys. The half life scares the universe that controls much of us. The half life symbolizes radiation, eventual death, continuing meager and lessening existence. My mother was a whirling centrifugal force enough that I worried about accidents as well.
The agricultural study of life, vegetable life, is great enough to cause an inversive backlash. For agriculture to succeed, as agriculture, is a spiritual movement; one must change the whole system of society alongside it; that is the nature of the profession. Anything else is wimpy. Thus labor is not to be procured from the few but the many. The Christianity of the kingdom of god, is needed for labor, obviously, simplifying agricultural issues, simpler than salivation is needed in other fields and trades.
Minorities are an important ally to agriculture as their cultures have not been dwarfed by technology and thus show off agriculture. Thus many minority cultures have an affinity to agriculture, see it as common and natural.
My mother was a bit of a matriarchal and semi-surrogate figure to many; when you have as many lower class and homeless friends as me, half of them at some point evoke a reaction of disappointment in her; after though a period of interaction before which such effect is less known. None the less, they are all very sad about these proceedings. With the cell phone, people can call me while I am by her bedside, and though she can’t speak, the offerings of encouragement and hope, she acknowledges with facial expressions. Though if someone says something stupid she turns cold.
Going to Vermont was good. I saw Quebec and felt protected and gained a much more realistic perspective on that state. I was there a short time of not two full days, and two nights. My life I was settling in the northern country learning about cheese and animals, that vibrant and shifting and vital channel on my show was changed, Friday night, after five full days there, long, new, feeling new things, gaining psychological understanding days; to a point I greatly appreciated the semi nomadic and agricultural life I had developed for myself. And here back in New Jersey, my life is full as it is.
What I learned and try to remember: I always felt this lifestyle was precarious, but I was hanging on and getting the hang of it, and loving this new farm and an organic vegetable farm I was helping on the side, and this area on the New York/ Vermont border, with a view of the southern Adirondacks to the west, and the green mountains of Vermont to the north. Yet I felt my life was if not better, at least stranger, with more varied energies and vital life forces, so to speak, to the degree I feared a backlash from the newspaper world whirling about; yet it is not the sad unnatural world the media reports, or the relatively and mildly senseless display of vehicles passing by, or people in supermarkets quietly getting food; it is the universe whose misery might feel jealousy to the engagements of my life. So we must step back and remind ourselves of it, and slow down its misery, so it does not couple onto ours. Really, this is the science I advocate. It is compounded by that we seem to be part of the universe, our thoughts: Like there is a vast inky substantive block of wood in the universe, older than us, that has a link to each, that makes us very lucky to have the tired world we have; its apprehensions of my, and rare, consciousness, I think about. For there is something good about my consciousness and earth, and less about it.
Yet I search for guilt in it for bad news stories, maybe it will ease the load somewhat, somehow, I pray to it, to ease the stream of negative news stories, which will release some pressure, that may give more attention to my work, and possibility gain a portion of salvation through a more direct link to the kingdom of god.
New York state and I were getting along, polishing my hard edges of new jersey, consistently stripping me of my dark green lens prescription glasses, eschewed soon for natural sight; the “be” I sometimes put on shirts with scotch tape to give me that certain look, stripped off, cast as unnecessarily unusual; my CIA, (Christians in Action) hat, dark blue, a no go, as too hard upon a soft and willing people. Yet did it strip of my mother, my routine of regular return to her regularity and conservative security of NJ?
I don’t get upset, not knowing yet how every fits in the large equation, she has had a long significant life and is strong as a trooper; but there is nothing hard about a mother in jersey; which my fears require, or induces fear. When I returned from Quebec in late 2005 after my first year of trying to grow organically, you’d think agriculture’s karma would protect me right? What can the harmony of vegetable growth on earth do, to protect me, but appeal to the elements of the horoscopes in the sky? My first poodle, Max died inside a car crash. That hurt. As did the burnt farmhouse earlier in the year, managed by people from Vermont who took over from me, without much transition work with me. Max’s death is still hard to explain and see. Sammy, a 45 pound more docile version of Max’s 80lb standard poodle, is a continuation of that line; but Max was a huge wild human-like one of us, very fast and stubborn poodle; and I still don’t see this killing of dogs as fitting into a general scheme. To repeat the tragedy, I went to a rainbow gather in Vermont august 2006, with a little young poodle in tow, so said, I can barely say his name, Wesley, no idea the karma at hand, and upon returning to the farm, partly through my lack of diligence, but ignorance from the issue of the reformation affecting things as well, he got hit by a car in front of the farm and soon died. People see me hurt, and want me to be strong. They like the act; as I reluctantly recede within it and attribute this misfortune to starting to negotiate with the universe in a bad year, with bad numbers. Yet if the point is to project a world where all are fine if isolated, in some way, to Him, than socialism makes too great a truth out of what is fake, and somehow has become an anger, never searching to discuss the regulation of education, or have the people come up with a sustainable economy, things that would increase the peace; and essentially angry it is in business, insofar as resentment towards consciousness from the universe may align itself to such complaints and evaluations. But the ironic view of socialism and liberalism, where compassion and hope for all practiced, you’d think then those policy sentiments would have a positive view of people and human nature. But they don’t. Socialism and liberalism is required because human nature is bad. People need government because people are bad. This is ridiculous. It is much deeper than that. People are good at bottom and need good influences. There is nothing humans can’t deal with. It is the universe that is compounding any guilt over the kingdom of God. Still compassion should lead to a knowledge all are good. And that might lead to a better society, where social policies are a stop gap until culture’s self-determination. It would be wonderful if we could combine our energies to asses and conduct the realities of this situation. I see earth in its material as high up in the universe, through some warp, one of the elevated places in the universe, and then the sky becomes where portions of the universe enter, but for what purpose I don’t know. And it seems this experience, as I, is legitimate towards changing the world, upon which my elevation over more pedestrian writing ascribes me a power to rectify and remedy.
Jogging today, I felt like a soldier who has been hit, and no longer runs forward with confidence and humor but with an uncertain feeling, hanging on to less threads.
But the New York Experience on the Vermont New York border, at 625 feet, with 400 chickens 35 hens, 30 goats, and 6 pigs, and a cheese laboratory, really was quite a world; with the science of cheese making, and the psychology of raising animals. Psychologically I was very much preparing myself for Tuesday when 100 chickens had to go into crates to a processing plant—I did not know what this would actually turn out to be.
There is also less work to cheese and animals so I was able to have more time to explore vegetable growing operations in the area, as I have the industry goal of uniting labor and management, so find farms for people, satisfying, people and farms, getting to know owners, and the spirit of labor.
But as I said, I care about the universe, actively, imagining red swirls in the night sky, compassion to the dark, absent holes, from long ago, that exist everywhere, from way before earth, from collapsed star systems; and as I was lying in bed caring about the universe, or transferring that care through space, I realized that care flows into my eye that my universe is in my eye and all down my left side, absently causing my right handedness. The proximity of this blackness concentrates an effort, upon a form, expressing the media, something I feel ultimately, the universe does not care about. What it does care about is perpetuating The Kingdom of God, that is enough to sate its annoyance with earth and consciousness here, signifying a universe of bound contracts; And our hope, the opposing view, is that by influencing, changing, even eliminating our media and government, we teach the universe care, and that spreads to make the whole parts of the universe better, and they allow humans. It’s almost like we are trying to create a garden of Eden.
Gardens, agriculture, salvation, God, completely linked. The Kingdom of God fulfills the market and vital for marketing, and the kingdom of God is a wholesome identity for labor and vital towards finding labor, as well. So farming, more than anything needs, requires and promotes salvation.
Then of course, in this across the board colloquia, militias. Militias, it is hinted at in the federalist papers, for what really are the point of local militias; is to break away from the tyranny of federal government. Now there is a logic to my work that does the job of militias. Thus, can one turn to militias for help? And would they provide the spirit I require, or are they a higher class than this agricultural sustenance?
Back near Saratoga Springs New York I was haunted by the phrase of knowing how things work. In that I know how things don’t work. I realize what is required to make things work. And often see the effects of people who think it works in a way that it doesn’t; usually implying an assumption that something is easier than it looks. If it really was easy, it wouldn’t mask itself as easy. The whole point is to change the government and the media. I don’t think this is meant to be easy. It is important to say I tried for years. The democratic party influence in New Jersey and possibly in general is that the republicans respond to me, have a beer with me, are responsive and commiserating with my issues, whereas democrats don’t talk to strangers, indeed, don’t want to be strange.
And serial daters have problems apprehending what the effect of a past relationship was on the girl. Whereas most men of defining Gallic disposition have gone through such hell with women that they don’t consider entering into relationships with them lightly; Serial daters have never apprehended the feelings of women they have gone through relationships with. I do not know why this is so. An inability to apprehend a world so evil?
I was in Saratoga Springs Wednesday, the day and night of the late night of my mother’s accident. I went to the wackiest farmers market I ever saw; because the race track was in season, and the universe zipping through earth and space like the corner to a collar; and the women looked like heaven itself, with loads of money, and the men seemed to care about looking good, and being polite was impossible, so I said little, selling cheese, answering questions as honestly as I could; for I am not so good at selling to people I don’t know. I want my products to go to people I trust, and know and can contract; like conscientious chefs of restaurants; I wanted to walk around incognito and talk to people about how less exists than they think, so…but I was on a short leash, and to learn that my boss wasn’t a person, but a brand, and how we all are, or should be brands, and she attracted her values, like female goats coming for wholesome nutrition.
Then I had to drive an hour to have dinner with Terry and pick up the cable I left at her house she came to meet me with.
Then I walked around Saratoga parks and looking at drink specials in bar, amazed at all the class of race track visitors. Surely a suite there for 4 and a cheap racetrack and drink specials, makes Saratoga in season a thinking mans Vegas or Atlantic city. And I was enjoying a baseball game, for often I likened having workers to having pitchers, don’t over use them, maximize their victory count. And the issue in the MLB Little League world series emphasizes, is the emphasis upon just putting the ball in play within three pitches. Too often you have batters fouling off, making the pitcher throw and everyone worry about pitch counts.
I realized the entire game symbolized farm marketing. The pitcher is the farmer, the hitters, the market. The market must give in to the pitcher, or must intimidate him, to a point where the market is OK giving in to him.
But what I was focusing on at the dairy farm, was killing livestock, the psychology. You have to stay mellow. Focus with the animals. Feel the kingdom of god, as they do, and feel like the kingdom of god to relate to them. Shepherding never stops, animals are always on one’s mind. For animals are aware of the kingdom of god, or at least the quiet, if they are kept from apprehending the kingdom of god.
Animals, also inspire singing, which means they do have something good for them. You want the chicks to really enjoy a few of their days as chicks, they same way you want a child to have a good early childhood. You want the adolescent, and rude, pigs, to have meaningful communication with each other to justify the shortness of their life in a pen and field, with ice-cream whey and other goodies, pigs love. The goats think as individual and as a herd and are sacred protectors of earth, mystical in their devotion to man, resembling deer, I must add, and such do sacrifice some of themselves for goat meat. The chickens have only a flock mind and are happiest eating, so ironic they become food—likewise you ask one a question and another of the flock answers. Putting them in boxes to be processed was quite a challenge to me ahead. They were in fine hoop houses enclosed in electrified fence of a field encompassing half an acre, which we would move, and had fresh field for the hoop house, fresh millet twice a day, clean water all the time, no sad roosters, and 35 hen laying eggs meandering about all over the place, so their eggs showed up in goat barns as well as their homes.
I discovered the overlap principle, that being the cross set of two sets, one identifying attributes of one person, the other of another, the items in common, which are circled, is the overlap.
A platonic principle of government is that people can participate in it through meaningful communication with office, so wisdom flows well. And furthermore, that authority justifies its authority by firmly and successfully defending the decisions authority made. Untested, closed door authority is not really authority at all; but totalitarianism so beyond human rationality, in that it is ordained by the miserable universe, the kingdom of heaven looks upon this one party order and says it is a little thing compared to the kingdom of god, but how little and less and meager are we, yet the lessening of totalitarian constraint is a relaxation of the order of the universe in my mind, or a relaxing change to the form that guides the universe in this expression it does not want; though should start to evince some guilt in the spirit of states aligned with me that want a reduction of the false in our weekly newsmagazines.
And is it possible to write about the mind as humanity without offending people grievously, because of the cheating, and misrepresentation; Caring for the universe only goes so far. The absent dark depths are real, and floating on perhaps. The universe, not heaven are the animals. The goats, mystical they are, are the universe enjoying animals; their animal conundrum similar to absent depths; they change day by day, too, goats and all animals have moods and good days and bad days–as am sure the contracted universe may, if they went by this sun. And I realize I am important, a center, as earth is, a logical place for change to start.
And most importantly, humans are sacrificed for the universe. You can say it is because the old can’t deal with the young, but the young can say it is done to ultimately help and feel sorry for, and increase the universe, in a utilitarian way, and as an ultimate sacrifice that will eventually bring change to ripple across the universe. So it strikes me as for a reason; yet logically, as imposed, yet faithfully, to effect change, eventually. Likewise, politically associating the dissolution of marriage, with a reduction of the contracts between agencies of the universe, and making government deal with marriage; as opposed to other more polarizing issues, seems quite the broad gate to heaven. The only way to be truly successful as such attitude increases labor for farms, and rearranges society in a way agriculture succeeds; as religion triumphs over politics.
As Religion Triumphs over Politics
The thorn in the rose of liberalism is the assumption human nature is bad. I’ve long wondered how something so compassionate to the unfortunate can believe human nature is bad; for I look at those poor souls and see their good side; and if they have a good side, certainly the more blessed have an even greater good side. Yet I see now how it stems from the assumption Government is needed to check evil people. So the issue is not just giving to the unfortunate, indeed, taking them into your home for a while; the issue is making government do this, for it will not happen on its own; and when you focus on it not happening on its own, you assume human nature is bad, instead of recognizing the kingdom of god.
Really though, it is a sacrifice for the universe; an expression of the universe; a compounded misery to one day pivot into a better universe. And humans are rational reasoners capable of discussing everything. This is just a put on, designed to put on me.
I got fevers the first few mornings around dawn arising to tend the goats, as they require tending at 12 hr intervals. Goat temperature is 103 degrees. They line up on a ramp to wait for the nutrition as they are milked. I learned to tweak their teats out so they may be machine milked efficiently. One sees the moods of animals swing over days, like the daily weather.
Cheese making is chemistry, like a laboratory, transforming with science and enzymes. Alcohol and cheese making do not mix. Extra sensitivity not dullness is required. This isn’t grunt labor require, but teaspoons of germs and cultures.
I got a bad back in Vermont, the weekend before I started livestock and cheese, which involves lots of cleaning with hot water, no flies, and extra sensitivity. But I still don’t understand how the lord chose meat over vegetables, or how the vegetable grower killed the animal raiser when the vegetable grower is nonviolent and the animal raiser kills on a monthly basis?
There is a psychology to meat eating. The universe is enjoying human beings, and can speak; what do its depths say? And the Kingdom of Heaven, all still and forgotten, commenting upon the major, acting little about the minor; it seems life becomes increasingly less the older one is. Blacks are the ancient oldest race, then the orient, which seems of a particular breed of ape; then the Indians escaped all that to South America and North America and the whites are the youngest race who are most prone to hair to protect them in their northern environment.
The sacrifice of humans is because the earth is a center, and high up in the world of meaning, floating with its clouds in some altering reality layers rising to it.
There is something laconic about having livestock. The universe may own a piece of each of us. The use and predominance of blacks in college football, is false and ludicrous; yet a metaphysic, engraved in the form that guides the universe to media, who exchange would seem to gain some human life as it can be construed as a violation comparable to the violation of the kingdom of god.
The universe is in me and hopeless blobs are all about in my imagination. The Presbyterian service has a psychic structure explaining why is why. The Kingdom of Heaven’s force can be felt in reckoning the major problem, but not the minor ones, which would be a relaxing sensation, a lessening of tension, like a cello. We are writers, like porn stars, when we affirm what is not, which we would not do, which we do, without knowing; which the kingdom of heaven thinks is little compared to the kingdom of god. The blobs are not into earth. But good government may show all the good we can do to try to help the blobs.
I have long faulted Christianity with the same claims of the reformation; a misunderstanding of Easter. Yet good churches still need to be reformed. Christianity has bred many Christ’s; we need to find them. Jesus is not the only Christ. He was or stood for, the last Christ we found; and Christianity designed to aid in the production of Christs, in its contrasting service to government.
The self-identity and moral evaluation of women by themselves as attractive to men, must be mastered by them, to live better.
It may all start with some guilt about the news by the universe. Marriage impedes the manifestation of thought. You must be ready for the withdrawal of the news.
You try to speak to the universe, you don’t know what to say, you don’t know what to expect these black holes of mind will say, and then it dawns on you; They are much much older, from before earth; and they don’t go by the sun, they don’t count their years by our trips around the sun, they gaze upon our solar system, able to see from so far away; as if our sun is very small, and my brain, tiny. They are linear, not bent by the sun, not in floating orbit, but perpendicular to our solar system, marking time by distant counts, if that; for what the effect of earth going around the sun marking time for them we don’t know.
But I realized, they are not in this domain of communication; in which that they take more time to respond, being older, and I have to listen and let time pass, to see what answers are already in me, that patience will learn.
I can literally streaks of black planes over the sky and horizon, far too great for compassion, possibly holding human beings as hostages, and of an opaque strength, whose motions from within are all that is needed to do a job. Sometimes I see the darkness, and other times, the light; when victors the eclipse and over shadow the other.
I am sorry so many writings are in such rough draft.
God is the name for the stuff and force about earth in the universe that predates the universe. Earth and its life, grew within a universe much older. This is much stronger us and therefore, we probably are God, this way. You and the mind, represent God and must guide god,