GOLF LESSONS

In a commercial, those who market golf imply the game teaches lessons of life. In it one young player says, to golf you  must learn to add. This is good because the way we live life we have to keep financial score. Another tells us if you do something wrong you are penalized. Indeed, in life there are rules to follow and transgressions are punished. A third youngster suggests golf teaches honesty. That too is a worthwhile lesson because we just can't give ourselves a better 'lie' in life when no one is looking. We're supposed to play what we're given whether in the fairway, the rough or completely lost.

Perhaps it's because the commercial is so short or that it's made for family entertainment that producers left out a couple of the most important lessons. Maybe they just complicate the others too much. Regardless, it is well known that if you want to play on the weekend you have to make the cut. In our economic 'game' clearly the vast majority of humanity does not make the cut; and those of us who do aren't about to change the rules. The ultimate life lesson golf teaches us is that there is only one winner. We can reach out to the limits of our capacities (see poem) but that effort is not recognized. Only the winner receives the accolades. It is a tough 'game' we play.

CRYSTAL METH: a suicide bomb

"Crystal meth" might be the drug of choice on which to focus our attention but the message its use is delivering is the same as that of other self-destructive activities. Our philosophical structure is so fragmented a common sense of purpose is impossible to find. So we look among the pieces.

Users are not misfits. They are the 'canaries' we take to the depths of our collective mind. These tiny, fragile creatures are easily overcome by the poisonous philosophical gases that permeate our life. We can not save them with protective legal 'gear'. Nor in our fragmented state do we have the strength to win the 'war'.

But we must do something for it is not just the "canaries" we are trying to save. Maintaining the status quo is not working. We need to articulate and engage in our common purpose. Doing so will reunite humanity and provide a structure with the strength to contain us all. Within it will be such a common sense of purpose, no one will even contemplate harming any member, not even oneself. (see LONDON BOMBS)

BATHROOM 1

Earning and using money to fuel the materialistic reaction (see poem) has never been my primary activity. For only about 2 of my working years did I have a full time job. Friends' discarded furniture have been my upgrades. For 25 years my floors were premium, painted subfloor. My first new vehicle was a gift from dad 4 years ago. So deciding to give mom's bathroom a make-over involved an ethical struggle.

We can convince ourselves to do things with layers of reasons. However, I think I am being honest when I say the reason I decided to renovate mom's bathroom was the experience of having to lift Dad in and out of the tub. That won't be possible with mom. She won't even let me see her without her teeth. So I am about to begin the task of making mom's bathroom as accommodating as I hope will be necessary. I will include a couple options but I won't go all the way. I pray I won't come up short. I will keep you posted.

THE LAW of HUMAN NATURE

 

Through scientific method we have discovered laws that govern all aspects of natural activity. It seems the existence of these laws is generally accepted without much discussion about their source beyond describing on going research as an effort to discover the "God Law", the unifying law that ties all the others together. Standing on our acceptance there are laws governing the entire complex array of natural activity we should be encouraged to expect there are also from this same source "principles governing human behaviour" which can also be discovered through scientific method. Once discovered, in the light of this "Law of Human Nature" we will be able to explain every activity and life circumstance; and predict where on what appears to be a continuum between complete self-destruction and complete self-realization the outcome of our activity will be.

We can only hope we discover the "Law of Human Nature" soon because our present haphazard experiments continue to be increasingly self-destructive. It can be found in the last why: the poem.

Law of Human Nature: the poem

HOPE

I need to see again the updated documentary on the Ethiopian famine of 1985. For the third time I think I've missed the point. Maybe I will never get it. One young woman who returned form the brink of death by starvation is celebrated as a symbol of hope. Meanwhile hundreds of thousands died. Maybe it was millions. I'm sorry, I can't keep up with the numbers.

Isn't that just like us. We look for and focus on the one tree left standing and ignore the clearcut. But then, interviewing the survivor is far easier for everyone than trying to discover what those who didn't survive think of their situation. A 20 minute documentary of silence, while far more graphic and easier to make, would be pretty unsettling for those watching.

No. It is better to have hope. If one young girl can survive then perhaps another of the three children who die every 3 seconds  in Africa alone, will survive too. Let's hope.  (see poem)

NEW AGE

I am not skewing the record to say we watch T .V. only while preparing, eating and cleaning up after meals. Still while watching mainly the news and commercials again the other day, I began to think about the age we are in.

From my school days at the beginning of the Plastic Age, I remember references to the Stone Age, the Bronze Age and the Iron Age. Moving forward in time there were the Dark Ages after the 'light' was turned off in Rome, and the Middle Ages when we groped around until the 'light' was turned on in Paris, I think. I'm not sure why we left the Age of Enlightenment to enter the Industrial Age. I suppose at the time it was considered progress.

More recently there was an attempt to start a New Age of enlightenment to clear the  'pollution' of the Industrial Age, without success. Surpassing at least the publicity of the New Age has been the Information Age. I searched for Information Age on the web and couldn't find any useful information. That didn't surprise me because I think the lack of potential for information providing meaning in our lives has been realized.

As a consequence, after slipping  quite quickly and without noticing through the Age of Confusion we have entered into the gloriously mind numbing Age of Entertainment. This new age is characterized by trying in vain to fill the void in our lives with every conceivable form of entertainment. It may seem like fun now but sadly we "party on" to self-destruction. (see poem)


LONDON BOMBS

Another terrorist cell attacks the body of humanity. Its sole purpose is that of a cancerous cell, to destroy the host. Despite protests to the contrary the attacks could be succeeding. Insidiously, one here another there and eventually we are paralyzed by fear. To combat the terror we bankrupt ourselves buying preventative military 'medicine'.

We are vulnerable to the disease of terror because we have such a severely depressed philosophical immune system. It is no wonder given what we 'consume' (see poem). To successfully fight the disease we desperately need to change from our self-destructive diet. We need to enable self-realization. Only this activity will revitalize humanity. In a 'body' with renewed health and strength terrorist cells will not grow; they will simply wither and die.

KARLA

She committed unspeakably heinous crimes against 3 fellow human beings. She caused those around her victims to suffer the most profound and endless sorrow. I could try forever and not be able to express the despair I feel knowing one of us can kill another.

When viewed through the law of human nature, (see poem) the taking of any life from conception to natural death, acquiescing, or allowing any fellow human to die other than by nature, is a crime against humanity. Look at what we are doing and allowing to happen. Until we see that we are not to some extent responsible for crimes against humanity, we should refrain from 'stoning' Karla.

LIVE-8-DEAD

Stretching our generosity to the limit and giving $.70 out of every $100 of GDP will not eliminate poverty. It just might give those at the bottom of our economy enough that we don't have to watch them starving to death on T.V. while we are eating dinner. Poverty and wealth are are directly dependent concepts; wealth increases, poverty increases. In a simplified to the extreme yet valid explanation, poverty exists because our glass is full and theirs is empty. The  only way to get rid of poverty is to break the glasses.

There is no sign this is about to happen. Wealth is fundamental to the vertical, conical economy we create with our materialistic reaction to the void. (see poem) We need money in our efforts to fill the void and more will never be enough. On top of that, if our materialistic reaction is interwoven with a pre-eminence thread there is no way we will jeopardize our efforts to climb the 'cone' by giving to eliminate poverty.

It would be the most significant act in the history of humanity if "LIVE-8" was the impetus that started the shift to a horizontal economy which would emerge as we gradually eliminated wealth by increasing our ideal reaction to the void. It is more likely "LIVE-8" will go down in history as an event "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing".

COMPUTER 301

I decided my poem should be in an interactive rather than a display module. No problem. With my experience I could probably copy it from one to the other. So I tried but it didn't happen. I tried again, nothing. I knew I could copy it from "Word" so I went back there. Ctrl C, Ctrl V, nothing. Did I do that right? Again Ctrl C, Ctrl V and for some unknown reason the bottom of my poem appeared at the top of the screen. As I dragged the elevator up to bring my poem down, it quickly became apparent I again had more than one copy; many more in fact.

No problem. I knew how to delete. In a moment of fatigue while selecting lines during computer 101, I had accidentally drawn the mouse arrow below the text box and discovered simultaneous scrolling and highlighting. In an instant my screen became a blue strobe light until all extraneous copies of my poem were selected. Ctrl X, gone. Next the reformatting which was kind of boring the second time around. When I finished formatting I clicked save and close....and got  an error message.

I scrolled back to the beginning to see the harsh banner informing me my url identifier was more than the allotted 158 characters. In the space where I should have entered a title was the first line of my poem, "O Lord what fools..." It was then I remembered reading somewhere in my "dummies" book that if I didn't enter a title the computer would.

No problem. I knew how to delete; just hold down the backspace key. I held it down and could see immediately the computer did not just enter the first line of my poem. Eventually, "...God's glory" the last line appeared....  followed by "O Lord what fools..." This happened over and over and over again. The computer was playing with my emotions.  I had to change fingers every 5 minutes. Frankly I became tired of seeing "God's Glory..." and being reminded I'm a fool.

I had plenty of time to figure out that my every last attempt to copy had been successfully stored on the clipboard and eventually pasted into my editor. As punishment for not entering a title the computer used every copy I had made and I was deleting them all, one line at a time.

I'd probably been deleting for 45 minutes or so when mom inquired about breakfast. I lied. I told her I'd be finished in a few minutes but I had no idea. I was thinking I could die here. I even had a vision of a marker, a hand with a bent and twisted middle digit sticking up above the others. Under it was my epitaph.

Here lies poor Doug
Whose life did flee
While holding down
The backspace key.
                                                                                                   
I trust you can imagine my relief when that backspace bar finally hit the wall. I didn't even slow down. At the same time I felt sad. All this valuable experience and no more copying and pasting in sight. Building is sometimes like that. By the time you figure out how to do it, the job is finished. I am hoping this does not have to be the epitaph of humanity.

 

COMPUTER 201

I asked Anthony "squarespace"  if I could copy and paste my poem from "Word" to my web page editor. He thought so. This was going to be my first copying and pasting so I got out "Word for dummies" to look for instructions. Right click select, right click copy, open editor but I couldn't find right click paste. I tried I don't know how many times but failed. I e-mailed Anthony. Try "Ctrl C, Ctrl V", he said. I did but apparently failed again. I tried once more and praise the "Word" there's my poem! It wasn't formatted like the original. Nevertheless, it was in the editor.

Quite pleased with myself I began to scroll through my poem; but there was something very odd. I was nearing the end of my poem and the little elevator had moved only about an inch. A fraction of an inch later another copy of my poem appeared. As I continued to pull the elevator toward the bottom, the screen looked like the spinning wheels of a slot machine as copy after copy of my poem appeared and disappeared before my eyes.

I had no idea how to delete all these extra copies of my poem, so confident in my skill I cancelled and started over. This time, first time. But again with the elevator half way down I saw a second copy of my poem. I went to the original and found--2 copies. I deleted one, went back to  the web, deleted another, scrolled down the page and finally, a single copy of my poem on my site.

However...it was single-spaced, while the original was formatted in 4 line stanzas. I didn't know how to change the spacing so I asked Anthony. He told me to try Ctrl enter--a bum steer. That gave me twice the space but  got me thinking. If I could reverse the evil hidden force that just doubled my space, I could cut it in half. I remembered reading about deleting the enter character with the backspace or delete keys. I tried backspace but that kept deleting a bit of my poem. I tried delete and zip, the second line snuggled up to the first.
Another set cursor, delete and the third line snuggled up to the second. A final set cursor, delete and the first stanza was having an orgy. I moved to the second stanza and then the third. Pretty soon I was zipping lines around like a kid at Christmas with a new toy car. When I got to the end I selected all, hit center justify and there was my poem.

I was exhausted and I knew I'd left a lot of wreckage in my wake; but I'd done it. It was only a grain of sand on the beaches of the universe but I felt like I had discovered the meaning of life. Real life can be like that.


COMPUTER 101

That I have this web site is due to the genius of "squarespace". Most times when my finger is poised over the left click, I feel like that handy woman in the Rona commercial. She is dressed in work clothes complete with hard hat and goggles, facing the side of a house with an impact drill in hand.

Her face expresses grave concern. The narrator asks in a drawn out cadence " W h a t ' s  t h i s , h e s i t a t i o n ? "; and then says in a tone of encouragement, "Go ahead. You can do it. You are a handy woman".

As the camera position changes from facing the woman to a shot from behind, the woman cautiously touches the drill to the wall....and the house collapses.

BERRY PICKING

I bought a priceless memory today for $17.50. I took mom strawberry picking. She always enjoys the 20 minute drive north. Everything is beautiful, the trees, the river, how the clouds ice the mountains.

 It took us less than an hour to pick the 14lb you can see in "being mom" in the photo album. After lunch we washed, hulled, and put them in the freezer. Now every time we have these strawberries in the coming months Mom will remember the enjoyment of going to pick strawberries. We can never have enough pleasant memories.

SAME SEX MARRIAGE/ A HUMAN FIGHT

This fight is so discouraging. I will not be celebrating a victory for individual human rights. That's such a red 'whale'. If we divide humanity into smaller and smaller groups, giving each group their own rights, we will eventually reach the level of individual human rights. However, there are two possible paths. If we are wise, the common human right we discover on our way to the individual level will allow self-realization. If we are unwise, the different human rights we claim with each division will at the individual level result in total self-destructive conflict. I fear this present fight is an indication we are indeed unwise.

(see) the last why: poem

THE RAILING

100_9166.JPGI'm not sure when I put the rough posts up-- no it's not age related.  It was certainly after dad died in Apr.04.  I know they were up in the fall when I asked  a friend  to get some material for me.  I got the top rail the first of May.  I began fitting it (see photo album) to the posts about 3 weeks ago on the days it was too wet for us to spread nutra mulch on the garden.

  I should have it finished and installed this coming week if I can speed my help up a bit. You'll have to return to view the installation. Once the top rail is in place it will be awhile before I fill in below. It is more important that I begin making mom's bathroom more accommodating.

AN ANGEL 1

mom
mom

One of the things I can tell you about mom is that she is the reason we have a garden . Mom’s answer to life’s concerns is a broom or a rake; and when she and dad came to live with me in the spring of 2001 she had a major concern. In the 2 previous years mom began loosing dad to deteriorating health and as a consequence her beloved cottage in central Ontario. She then lost her ability to care for dad and thus her condo and so her independence. She was trying and failing to live with my sister and her chaotic family when I brought her west, removing her from the ‘ground’ she’d been rooted in for 85 years.

For no apparent reason I put an addition on my house the fall of ’99 and as things go my front yard was still a gravel pit when she arrived. As soon as she could she was out raking the gravel. I was forced to work with her. At first I tried to do other things while she raked but every few minutes I’d hear, “Doug, come and help me with this rock”. As you can see I did manage to do some other things but mainly we raked, dug, wheeled and dumped until the entire yard was cleared of rocks to the depth of a shovel and we had a pile of rocks (another story).

The plants have been in a year now. Except for the occasional sad attack there is no evidence of deep concern  and mom's efforts have created a little piece of ‘heaven’, just what angels do.

THE VOID

When I began thinking about publishing "THE  LAST WHY: the poem" , my first thought was some type of hard copy. I talked to an artist friend about a graphic. She planted the web seed; but I still wanted "a picture... worth a thousand words" for my home page. I suggested a single red rose on a black canvas representing respectively, the last "why?" and "the void", the two concepts at the beginning of my thoughts.  She declined.

Left on my own I thought of a mother's day rose on what could appear to be an  endless expanse of white snow covering the ice on the lake. The result was inspired. A red rose on black is such a negative image. However, until I saw the red rose on white snow I had never 'seen' the void as a white emptiness rather than a black hole. The void represented by white emptiness is the positive image I had intended to convey.

In my view of life we create the void, or more accurately, we discover it if we question the meaning of life. I call this question "the last why" because it seems when all the other questions are asked and answered, this one will remain. There does not appear to be an answer in the usual sense to "the last why". Thus in my view the void is simply a missing answer that is without an inherent force. Though simply a missing answer without an inherent force and its apparent effect dependent on asking, I believe the awareness of the void has become the primary motivating force of our existence.

That might seem odd given we have to ask, to be aware of the void. However, for the void to be our primary motivating force, the question that discovers it only needed to be asked once and it was, many millennia ago by 'Eve'. She asked "Why am I?" and gave birth to humanity. When 'Eve' discovered the void she experienced the same fear, anxiety, panic, terror and the urge to escape she had felt when previously confronted by unknowns but she couldn't escape. To calm her 'Adam' created a theory with which he tried to fill the void and they acted accordingly. 

We would still be acting according to this first theory had it filled the void but since it and all subsequent theories did not, the void was rediscovered again and again and.... Each time the void was rediscovered an individual altered the theory, changed the action and shared the reaction. The individual could have altered the theory by either adding to or subtracting from a preceding theory. Not every one accepted the new reaction so the old one continued to exist. These reactions to the void accumulated over the millennia and were passed from generation to generation. We are living that inheritance today.

Though the reactions to the void we've inherited can vary from the differently named but synonymous, minutely detailed theoretical world views with prescribed activities, to reactions of activities without apparent theoretical framework, they can all be traced to the original discovery of the void. That is our history. We may not be aware of this primary motivation because it seems possible to live our entire lifetime without questioning our inherited activities. More likely though we will lose part of our inheritance and feel a "void in my life"; or just feel that "something was missing"; or experience a floating anxiety and as have some in all preceding generations, we will be motivated to modify our inheritance or convert to another reaction to the void.

Although the void motivates simply by being, it seems to act with a force that can vary from being apparently insignificant to being the most powerful disintegrating force imaginable. My interpretation of our perception the void has a variable effect begins with the theory that prior to asking the last "why?" which gave birth to humanity, our ancestors, by nature, had been reaching out to the limits of their capacities, to others and to God. They were fulfilling their biological purpose of becoming what we are capable of being as had preceding generations back to the conception of humanity. I then suggest that replacing this natural integrating activity with the unnatural disintegrating activity of trying to fill the void disintegrates our being to the degree of replacement.

So quite simply, the more we try to fill the void and thus diminish our natural activity, the greater will be our disintegration. Among the other consequences of substituting unnatural activity for natural activity is conflict within us, conflict between us, the meaninglessness associated with diminished biological purpose and of course questioning. The more we suffer the consequences  the more often we question the meaning of life, thus rediscover the void and experience the fear, anxiety, panic, terror and the urge to increase our efforts to escape the meaninglessness, in the various ways we try to fill the void. In the extreme, when we have created a black hole by replacing all our natural activities with the disintegrating unnatural activity, it will seem as if the void has caused our self-destruction.

Despite the abundant evidence of unnatural activity, I don't think self-destruction is the inevitable legacy of the void. It doesn't seem like we are being forced to continue trying to fill the void so there is no reason we couldn't begin to empty it and diminish its apparent effect. To say emptying the void wouldn't be easy is the ultimate understatement. Changing an inherited reaction to the void is difficult enough but living without one would be the supreme challenge. Nevertheless, as surely as our ancestors tried to fill the void with them, we can remove all the theories that have accumulated in the void throughout our history.

As a consequence, we would shed all the restrictive, disintegrating unnatural activities which prescribe what to be; and replace them with the natural integrating activity that allows us to become what we are capable of being. According to the theory, conflict, confusion and questioning the meaning of life would then diminish. Eventually, the void would appear to become an impotent white emptiness. We can't and wouldn't wish to, return biologically to the 'womb'. However, we could philosophically 'replant the rose', let it be and 'watch' the sense of meaning in self-realization grow around it as we reach out the limits of our capacities, to others and to God, apparently the ideal reaction to the void.

So, if the theory is fact, does it matter whether self-destruction or self-realization is the legacy of the void? I don't have an answer for that question. However, I am certain that in self-destruction we will never know. I suspect that in self-realization, we might discover why.