Idealism

     There are three constant stalking horses for the next generations- War, Planetary Degradation, and Poverty.

     War-People say it always been with us and its just human nature. But that's really a cop out and a lie to boot. You do not have to buy into it and feed their cannon. Humans have a natural aversion to killing each other and it's only sociopaths and psychopaths who wage war commit murder, rape, and a dozen other odious things. Don't be like those people at all costs! Seek the way of little conflict.

      Planetary degradation- The idea the earth can be a giant garbage dump is a fallacy, since it's all we have and spacefaring to other planets is still a good distance in time in the human future, if we survive even to get to the point of making the choice to leave.

     Poverty- You are responsible for yourself. Mommy and Daddy will no be with you forever. The earlier you get out to do what you want to do, the more that energy will last with you and help you defy the naysayers and killjoys.

Be careful with your carbon footprint and the creatures you take for your food. Huge corporations have spent trillions to create corporate oligarchies holding forth over the food you consume, and have processed most of the natural healthful constituent molecules out of them. They have tinkered with the genes of plants and animals, in some cases, mixing them, to bastardize the genetic inheritance of the foods which  our ancestors most often consumed in a raw and wild state. Plant a garden and do what you can to feed yourself from that state of nature.

Learn to create your own wealth- most of it is in your mind.

Live in the Now- You are only as old as you feel. You can be "old" at 16 and "young" at 91. It's all in your head. Since it is all now that matters and all that matters is the now there is no use in staying behind and every purpose to move forward regardless.

The idea there is anything ending with death is a fiction, in the here and now, life is eternal, consciousness itself is immortal and the ground of being. The soul returns to fit the form & if it isn't possible to see the face of god one can see his reflection upon oneself in one's inner eye as a part of the whole.

The more people working to create a better world work together to create one, the faster an optimal evolved human world can come into being. The planet itself is finite and cannot itself be replaced- but we owe it to our future generations to discover those places which exist elsewhere in this galaxy which can be cultivated with whatever human descendants finally leave this planet for another.

EXCERPTS: Third Eye Patch

“The goal of this company is not to make nice things happen for more people. The goal and sole object of this company is to expand the bottom line, fashion it into a noose, and strangle our competitors with it. We are not in business to improve the lot of 'our fellow man'. No. Our 'fellow man' is in business solely to improve our lot, and our interests. Idealists are always fools, and the weak, no offense intended–” (pause for laughter) “–will always be pushed aside by those who seize the moment: the superior, the noble, and the rightfully entitled!”

-Peter Derringer, creator of the best-selling video games Bodybag, and Maximum Triage

THIRD EYE PATCH Kevin Donohue & Mark Lind-Hanson

     A high-tech thriller-satire set in the America of the present day, THIRD EYE PATCH will take you on a wild roller-coaster ride as you follow Mike Chen, Boffin Syznic, Jennifer Morgan, Guru Abbryggdd, and the rest of the Table Foundation as they struggle to bring into being the Third Eye Patch. a biomedical device that enables a person to reset his or her natural body rhythms with an algorithm based on a musical melody. This device is a bold and radical alternative in high-tech bio-medicine, and is a clear and present danger to the forces of darkness and domination that keep Humankind in servitude to the colossal pharmaceutical industry. 
     Mike Chen is a has-been inspirational writer and new age toastmaster, entering middle age. After being swindled in a shaky business deal resulting in bankruptcy, foreclosure, and the walkout of his longtime girlfriend (the beautiful but fragile Beta Bronski), Mike has come to the conclusion he is a fraud, and decides to announce it to the world in a comeback bid. 
     At his father's funeral, Mike hooks up with his first wife, the notorious literary agent Jennifer Morgan, who takes him back under her wing, and offers him a job with The Table Foundation, the brainchild of brilliant 'outlaw' electronics billionaire, Boffin Syznic. In a fit of inspiration, Mike proposes the Third Eye Patch, a meditative patch similar to a nicotine patch, that delivers a calming pulse, instead of added nicotine and other drugs. Boffin Syznic not only flips over the idea, he proposes to Mike to undertake a journey, a quest: The Search of the Lost Chord, or more accurately, the elusive melody that will be chosen as the algorithm for the meditative patch–The Third Eye Patch!
     Along with musicologist Steve Shank, one-time rock god and guitar-slinger, Mike's odyssey takes him from Athens, Macedonia, and Istanbul, to the Central Asian Republic of Tuva. The pair are shadowed by nosy reporters and shadowy assassins, because the word is out about the Third Eye Patch, which has many special interests (including Mega Corporation Perry Pharmaceuticals, among others), quite alarmed.
     The very idea of a meditative patch that promises, in the words of Boffin Syznic: "A life of optimal health and happiness for Humankind" is intolerable, and must be stopped right in its tracks.
     A shadow agency of the United States Government, the National Agency of Science and Technology (NASTY), has been directed to get the Patch at any cost, and ruthless spymaster FW Piltdown is dispatched to the West Coast, where he recruits and brainwashes Beta Bronski, to spy on the Table Foundation (in the name of "National Security") and acquire the Patch, and pass its secrets on to PerryPharm, and other corporations, to "maintain the balance of power." Will they succeed in suppressing the Third Eye Patch, or will Mike Chen realize his quest for the "Betterment of Humankind, along with a comfortable amount of cash!"
     All of this, and more, are told in THIRD EYE PATCH.
     This new edition supersedes all previous ones and meets the complete approval of the authors.

THIRD EYE PATCH

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/299560      

THIRD EYE PATCH Part Two: FLIGHT OF THE GRASSHOPPER
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/453715            

DEATHCO (Tales From The Patchsphere):

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/495973

AVAILABLE in ALL Ebook Formats AT SMASHWORDS.COM

Happy Saint Patrick's Day

If anyone needs reminding WHY this day's known for folk wearing green
(and I should think, most people DO),
here's a really good one.

The Wearing of the Green-(Dion Boucicault)

Oh, Paddy dear, did you hear the news that's going 'round?
The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground
Saint Patrick's Day no more to keep, his color can't be seen
For there's a bloody law again' the Wearing of the Green.
I met with Napper Tandy and he took me by the hand
And he said "How's poor old Ireland and how does she stand?"
"She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen
For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green."

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen
For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

Then since the color we must wear is England's cruel red
Sure Ireland's sons will never forget the blood that they have shed
You may pull the shamrock from your hat and cast it on the sod
But 'twill take root and flourish there, though underfoot 'tis trod.
When laws can stop the blades of grass for growing as they grow
And when the leaves in summertime their verdure dare not show
Then I will change the color too I wear in my caubeen*
But 'til that day, please God, I'll stick to Wearing of the Green.

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen
For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

But if at last our color should be torn from Ireland's heart
Her sons, with shame and sorrow, from the dear old Isle will part
I've heard a whisper of a land that lies beyond the sea
Where rich and poor stand equal in the light of Freedom's day.
Ah, Erin, must we leave you, driven by a tyrant's hand
Must we seek a mother's blessing from a strange and distant land
Where the cruel cross of England shall never more be seen
And where, please God, we'll live and die, still Wearing of the Green.

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen
For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

*"Caubeen" is an Irish word for a certain type of hat, similar to a beret.

A Legacy of Suffering

     It's clear to me that the debate over targeted murder, execution, and assassination of America's "enemies" is full of a great many contradictions. Not the least of which is, why so many persons I once knew (and a great many more I never did) who once were opposed to the Vietnam War are so reticent, silent, and approving of the current administration and its policies.

     I guess it's because they want to keep on believing that this president is, actually, a nice, friendly human being who only seeks peace and love and harmony between nations. In my mind he's done nothing of the sort. His real legacy is the thousands of shattered lives, the blown-off arms, legs, hands, feet, and heads of at least 175 innocent children and several thousands more adults. The ruined lives of mothers, sisters, husbands, brothers. The only thing different about the innocent hundreds of thousands slain in Vietnam under Johnson and Nixon (and Ford) and the thousands done to death by drones in Pakistan and Afghanistan is the magnitude of numbers, and the ethnicity and skin color. The people who look different across the river are still dying for being the people across the river who look different. It isn't going to help them like us any more or any better, y' think?

     The Obama administration has engaged upon a hazardous and slippery slope, by way of their utter imbecility when engaged in what Sun Tzu called the Art of War. You might take this with a grain of salt, coming from a committed lifelong antiwar zealot, but, no matter how many times soldiers come back from a war to tell the home crowd "it was all for a heaping pile of stinking bullshit", still the home crowd cheer and praise and wave the bloody flag: after all  they're "our" team. And the leaders ride the wave of vengeance roughshod over whatever last remaining vestiges of humanity remain, citing the same old lame cliches about "our national security" our "sacred" homeland, their "honor and sacrifice" and blablabla.

     How many more have to die to justify and satisfy the thirst for revenge over 9-11-01? 

     Let alone the great incompetents, they couldn't even bring Bin Laden to justice, alive, in NYC for a trial at the scene of the crime. The leaders have decided we the American public, like little children, do not deserve to see all the evidence gathered at the scene of Bin Laden's execution- even as they granted his deepest desire: martyrdom at the hands of the U.S. Government. Whether or not "the fog of war" obscured the desire to apprehend and bring before a court of law the most infamous heinous world actor since...<?> Well, you get the idea. Just as they did after the assassination of John Kennedy, the powers that be decided to lock away the full evidence  of the event forever.  Perhaps because Hif Majeftie and Duchess Clinton have guilty consciences- that the plan to rope in the dragnet ended with a gunshot and not the slam of a jail cell? Who knows. I cannot speak to nor fathom the minds of those who claim to represent us.

     What I can speak to is that those who seek high office, in this case, the most powerful office in the entire world, have sociopathic motives to begin with. Almost my entire lifetime I have seen nothing but sociopaths elected president- you almost need to be one, to lust for the Absolute Power that holding this office often represents. There are two other branches of our government, yes, but if Republicans most often write unconstitutional legislation, it seems most often, that Democrats sign it. Therefore there is hardly any leg for either party to stand on when it comes to contempt for the Constitution as it was intended- and the Supreme Court are hardly a worthy recipient of our trust any longer, either. And, more importantly, as Senator Paul asked the other day, "If you happen to be the son of a bad person, is that enough to kill you?" That, I would submit to a candid world, is the $1,000.oo question this president is too cowardly to answer. 

     You have to be nuts to want That Job, and whoever does, deserves every grey hair they get. The legacy of any President, apparently, is a trail of suffering left in their wake. Here they gave a Nobel Peace Prize to one who did nothing more extraordinary than get elected! Allen Ginsberg said "All presidents go to a diamond hell."& the older I get and the more I experience, the more I believe this is true. Don't ask me for my sympathy, or my vote- I've known too few years of my lifetime with my nation at PEACE with the rest of the world to believe you'll do any better. And unless you understand, that killing for peace IS like fucking for virginity, I'm afraid, you're doomed to several more incarnations in this hell until you wise up. After all, you asked for it.

Mother Nature: Her Last Stand in Silicon Valley (Part 2)

     Here we are, updating what has proven to be perhaps my most widely read article. Where we left off one year ago, my roommate and I had been forced into moving from this little enclave of ecological pastoralism to a smaller by a hundredth part apartment, on the opposite side of town. We were under the impression that work on the project (a co-housing development) would begin within weeks.
     Just three days ago it came to our attention that the developers have finally moved to begin work- one year later AND just two years- to the day- of the death of the man most responsible for renovating the old farmhouse and keeping it in a condition- such that it, as a historical landmark- would be considered for salvage, while all the other tree-butchery and the like went forward. Our friend Kurt Keiffer.
     All of the trees but two have been tagged for either removal or destruction. They recognize the market value of olive trees- at least, those will find new homes. But the large live oaks, the carob tree, the many pines and black walnuts- having outlived, apparently their aesthetic use for humanity- will soon meet the chainsaw. The large acreage will then be applied bulldozer and backhoe and work will begin creating the vast underground parking complex. The house will be removed- after they are done tearing off the kitchen, back porch, and half the attic- and set on the lot at another angle, so that the back door will now become the front door, and set upon new foundations.
     While we are happy we found new quarters "in time" it has been a lot longer than the excuse claimed by the developers as the cause of our own relocation. And like much of the Midpeninsula, another wild space- home to hundreds of birds and other creatures- now falls to the fell greed of the hand of Man.

State of the Mind Post-Valentines 2-2013

   Here we are almost a month has gone by and no posts. Well... Life has been quite busy, what with, the latest developments in job search (once again, I refuse to go into discussing my relation to the economy) and the latest abominations oozing from the office of the Killer-in-Chief, which I do not feel like stating (once more, I said it well a year ago, I said it as best I could about a month or so ago, and I continue to be unimpressed by those developments in any positive fashion) and because I have been fiendishly working on pre-publishing editing, as well as writing a sequel to what will be, a "first" ebook with my collaborator.
   Big long-winded compound run-on sentence, huh? Well the only rules worth keeping aren't the ones worth breaking, so, deal. Anyway- so far as tending the garden goes, last night my upstairs neighbor- who's a recent emigre from Russia- brought us down three little cucumber starts she started on their balcony patio- they get a lot more sun than we do and it's almost too early to get more things going just yet- these I transplanted this morning and am crossing my fingers I do not lose their fruit to our many voracious squirrels hereabouts... I am now sitting on my first pot of homegrown carrots- many are small and spindly, but there's a number of nice fat "long" ones... the cauliflower plant has not yet decided to crown, hoping to see that happen in a month or two- lots of parsley, and my winter set of scallions are beginning to gain a little heft...
    The house is sad and less joyful with the departure of our dear buddy Kili back to the Cat House on the Kings, where they have told us he is coexisting well in the company of other cats, and he is apparently going to be much happier (and seems to remember the place from kittenhood) than he was defending our little yard from the seven other cats who make their homes here. And yes, it tore us up to give him up and send him away, but he refused to become an inside-at-night creature, and being a cat, my roommate decided it was best to change the situation for us than try to reprogram his eight year old brain any further, because THAT was not happening... Sometimes out of love you MUST give something you love up because best for all concerned. Carolyn was not getting a lick of sleep, and I was not far behind her. But I'll miss him, yes, very much. The CHOK says they will watch out for him, will continue to call him by name if they see him, and in other ways do all they can to ensure his safety in the general population.
    Meanwhile, Frankie the dog does not seem to miss the competition for her affections and attentions all so much, all too happy as well to not compete with mine, although he isn't going to get to sit on MY lap. He might pause to wonder, but I have seen other dogs in similar situations react with much more concern and curiosity as to "where did the cat go?" He's a rescue pet too, and he had it tough. So tough that he never saw food worth stealing he wouldn't want to. That included (s)- Kili's wet food, chicken that Kurt or myself bought which we turned our backs on, and the food on the front porches of our neighbors meant for the new little chihuahua puppy and the several cats across the way in the neighboring apartments.
     My friend Elizaveta (a penpal I made around 1989-90) in Kurtamysh, Kurgan, Russia, happened to witness the falling meteor yesterday, passing about 300 km from her location exploding over Chelyabinsk. Her son Cyril told me. I told him I had been concerned and thought of them, once I heard the news. But at least, they were not in Chelyabinsk at the time. I am so much more likely of getting creamed in a bike-car wreck than I am getting stoned by an asteroid, meteor, or terrorist attack...
     On the subject of terror attacks, I want to share with everyone how I cured my own personal paranoia...
In the early 1960's, Bob Dylan wrote a song called "Let Me Die In My Footsteps." This was all about the fallout-shelter paranoia years of the Cold War... basically the song says, if you love your country, do not fear to live inside it, go where you will, do what you want, if you're meant to go, then, "die in your footsteps." Better than to cringe in fear of something that may never come. And once I gave that song a few listens I had taken the advice to heart. It's as true of the "terrorist threat" as it was when the Cold War threatened to go hot. And people like Elizaveta and myself, we like to think, had a little to do with tearing down those walls erected by our nations to keep us all afraid of each other. "All over the world, people are people," she wrote to me two decades ago. You know it. All anyone wants or expects is the right to make a living, raise a family, and live with as little tragedy as possible, since every life is going to have a few of those. I can only pray that in coming years all this "endless war" bullshit comes to a screeching halt, and that my own country regains a little composure and respect in the eyes of the world community. If it keeps on losing it, I am pretty sure I am not going to be one of the factors. And a BIG thank you to all my readers, inside and outside the USA. Whoever you are, blessings to you all.