The Worth of Man

Who can tell the worth of man,
His nature and his scope;
When in his breast comingle
Affections so remote?

He is baser than the beasts
And brighter than the stars;
Disciple of darkness and of light;
A child of Zeus no less than Mars.

How shall we judge him, --
With what measure can we rule;
What punish and what pardon --
This wisest of all fools?

He is at odds within himself,
A comic kind of tragedy,
Forever sinking into mud
While straining for divinity.

One moment he is Christian called,
The next, a burden to the weak;
Devouring the spoils of war;
A spendthrift of the gift he seeks.

This creature stranger than an ass
With head of eagle bound
Is ever 'twixt eternities
And nowhere to be found.

Rousing The Rabble

"The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing." ~ Einstein

Let me be clear, since there seems to be some confusion as to the extremity of my position. I never said we shouldn't work. I recognize that certain forms of labor are necessary to maintain the body; they are positively indispensable, so long as we wish to continue living in the material realm. Whether or not material existence is worth this effort is a subject truly worthy of discussion. The philosopher, Albert Camus, called it the only truly serious philosophical problem of our time.

Likewise, there are labors which may be performed here whose larger purpose extends beyond the physical world.

Simply learning to appreciate what Nature offers us, -- that is, the work which God has performed and left done; and not to undo it so as to remake it in our own image -- such an endeavor may be termed spiritual and of the highest type.

The truest vocation of mankind leads away from manifestation. The one who does the work of God appears to do no work at all, and reaches his destination without taking a single step. It is the systematic dismantling of personal will, in order to exalt and receive what the will of God has provided.

If this means keeping our populations small, so that the uncultivated forests provide our needs, without recourse to tractors and beasts of burden, so be it; we may take a number of the indigenous, so-called primitive communities as our models and our guides. Many of these tightly-knit communities have survived peacefully for thousands of years in harmony with nature, with one another, and with Spirit. They are there to learn from, yet so many in our society ignore them, or mock them, or pity them, or worse -- assimilate them into the madness which we foolishly think of as progress. In reality, these are wise people, from whom we might learn how to identify and use the edible vegetation which grows freely, without strenuously bringing God's creation into submission for the sake of more rich and dainty preparations, which cannot so much as satisfy our senses, and serve only to corrupt our judgment and our will, -- and, ultimately, to inculcate in us the most deplorable physical and moral diseases. To learn from such people, with an eye to eventually living in harmony with them, would be a labor truly defensible, and even noble.

Granted, such a radical paradigmatic shift -- what Terence McKenna termed "The Archaic Revival" -- cannot happen overnight. In the meantime, we must somehow learn to live in a culture which dismisses our best qualities and positively demonizes our worst; while it simultaneously exalts many of the most despicable vices present in others (such as the ambition for material dominance, undoubtedly predicated on psychopathic ways and means).

In a society like ours, where work is defined in terms of human agency, or will, one is forced to take part in the business of manifestation, and one's labor is often celebrated according to the extent to which it disrupts the peace of God and Nature; flaying the skin and gutting the entrails of Mother Earth for so-called precious materials; commanding the labor of millions in order to "refine", reshape, and disseminate those materials, with the ultimate aim of making them "indispensable" to consumers the world over.

I have argued against work of a certain kind -- unfortunately, it tends to be practically, if not literally, the only form of work which our society condones and even considers work. For the most part, I have argued against OVERwork, and the philosophies entrenched within Western Civilization which have inspired a thoroughly materialistic economy; with poverty and wage-slavery on one end, and obscene wealth on the other.

So long as our "individual freedom' is predicated on the exploitation of third world populations, I will continue to tout the largely unsung virtues of idleness and frugality. If it is true that my position is extreme, and far from balanced in itself, it may yet, for that very reason, be considered a  significant corrective and counter-balance against the opposite extremes embraced by our culture and called moderate.

The modern world has indeed become so complex, and the consequences of our actions so obscure and far-reaching, that we can no longer confine ourselves to our personal spheres, or even to the world news (as it is fed to us by the very institutions and entities which hold us in subjection and seek to fortify their position through this endless stream of lies, half-truths, omissions, and propaganda). If we do confine ourselves to what comes down the fluoridated mainstream, we will erect walls against the very sources of information which are necessary to effect in us a legitimate consciousness of what goes on in the world, -- including the global effects of our seemingly private and personal occupations.

The force of this propaganda, so widespread, so thoroughly contrived, and so cleverly instilled, can hardly be underestimated. And, yet, each individual, however cloistered within that echo-chamber of untruth, must perceive, at certain auspicious moments, a tendency within him/herself to doubt the official story; to question the prevailing authority, and to seek out alternative, marginal, and dissenting points of view. This is the critical moment, when a glimmer of true independence and individualism breaks through. This is the instant where choice is possible -- where free will exists. Unfortunately, the vast majority of us succumb, at once, or almost at once, to the familiar, pacifying voice of denial, which only flatters our habitual modes of living, and reassures us that the "experts" have the matter well in hand.

The arguments which denial sets before us are many and masterful. "We are," it tells us, "just ordinary men and women, after all. The best we can hope is to have our little slice of cake, and enjoy our privileges while we have them. Leave us our peace." Yet, as the revolutionary provocateur (and manic-depressive) Abbie Hoffman declared, "There will be peace when the lion gobbles up the lamb -- that is not the peace I want." My friends, I do not want to be the lion, nor the lamb, but an honest-to-God human being.

Here is the awful truth, and each may judge for him/herself what it is worth:

The complicity of the common man, no less than the manipulations of the powerful, is what will ultimately bring about the ruin of our planet. It is not unjustly said that "Rome deserved her Nero". We can no longer hope to live in a bubble and demand a life undisturbed by those rabble-rousers who would dare to inform us of the absolute horrors we support. We can no longer claim ignorance, and our capacity for denial can only stretch so far.

Jesus, Spartacus, Robespierre:These were not "good men" in the ordinary sense; they were incendiaries; gadflies, who prodded and provoked, and obnoxiously refused to allow others their peace and their opinions -- if that peace and those opinions were the bulwarks of conquest, slavery, and general moral decay.

Such figures have always insisted that one man's opinion is not automatically equal to another's, and equally worthy of respect -- though the man, in his soul, must indeed be equal to all. They insisted that truth is not the cheapest and most common of things, but, rather, the costliest and the rarest. It is the possession of those who have sought for it without ceasing, ruthlessly forcing open their own eyes, when sleep beckons like a siren, and carefully extracting those beams and motes which mar the more perfect vision. 

The Light Burden

"Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me;
for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
~ Matthew 11:29-30


Swift in overtaking thy desire,
Yet slow to draw the supple reins
And loth to calm the driving fire,
Thou makest only loss of gains;

Matching labor to thy task,
Each slave should end in luxury,
But, being answered, thou dost ask,
And will not quit for satiety;

Yea, all thy treasures here amassed
Have been neglected for the means.
See only how they gather dust,
Whilst thou takes ever greater pains!

Good friend, I beg thee, do depart
The path of toil thou hast taken;
It is bootless thus to strain thy heart
For all the world - if the world's forsaken.

The face of thy beloved is close
As no portrait could hope to be;
Her kiss is softer than a mouse
Asleep beneath a Christmas tree;

Right here, amid the natural lights
Which flit over a humble hearth
Might thou behold sincere delights
As any found upon the earth;

The sky, the grass, the lolling sea,
Have each their share of charm and wit,
But how wilt thou keep company
Immersed in work, as in a pit?

Set aside those petulant cares
And let thyself give way to love,
Lest all thy life pass unawares
Of what is present and above;

Allay the tense and baited rod,
What need for an Herculean grip;
To glory in the work of God
Was never idleness!

The Gadfly

I would trouble no man,

Having found his peace,
Lest by another's misery
He has secured that lease;

Men thus content
must think it meet
to go their way,
though in deceit,

And find in me
A gadfly and a sod
Of little worth or use
though instrument of God;

Yea, those who would
This ministry dispel
Would just as soon
Dispense with His gospel.

Then, shall I be disturbed
In heart, or nerve, or mind
Ingratitude, neglect, and scorn
In them to find?

Vanna Bonta QUOTES

“How enlightened is wearing God like some do Versace?”

“Humility is the ability to give up your pride and still retain your dignity.”

“Purity of heart is blooming the same colors in the middle of the wilderness when no one sees you.”

"Fame is not the glory; virtue is the goal, and fame only a messenger to bring more to the fold.”

“Where you see valid achievements or virtue being attacked, it's by someone viewing them as a mirror of their own inadequacy instead of an inspiring beacon for excellence.”

"Nature abhors a vacuum but why do most people hasten to fill in the blanks with garbage?”

“A cure for War? Furiously spending the same daily amount of money toward making friends. Being an indispensable source of food, shelter, peace, and cultural support dedicatedly spending 9 billion dollars a month on helping people would be a formidable enemy of evil.”

“I consider myself more exportant than important.”

“Patience is being friends with Time.”

Contributions

"A man who uses his hands is a laborer.

One who uses his hands and mind is a craftsman.

But he who uses his hands, his mind, and his heart, is an artist."

~ Saint Francis of Assisi

If order and industry be our aim
We are put by birds and bees to shame;
But, if we would fathom the Soul,
From toe to tip, -- we should
The very gods outstrip!

A devil is a god outgrown.

Only the servant of God is the master of himself.

I would die for the answers, but I live for the questions.

If you cannot buy a clue, beg for one.

The best conversations go on, even when they are over.

Have you any idea what it does to a child, when the parents are in love?

Love is on everyone's side.

We didn't turn on the television when we got home. We had a glass of wine, we smoked a joint, we talked about love and people and dying and living out this life. We talked about what is immediate and we talked about what is immense. The time at hand and the time to come. We remembered we were made for each other, like two molecules possessing an opposite charge, which cling to one another, each asking those questions, and offering those answers, which the other keeps hidden and cannot bear to confront, lest they undermine our chosen path. How mysterious and cautious, these moments, when we risk projecting our own path onto another, and drawing them away from their unique calling, for the sake of challenging and catalyzing within them some nobler, more authentic synthesis.

How To Decalcify Your Pineal (or How To Open Your "Third Eye")

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92qmQFkYILM

I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
~ Tennyson

In forests, I have seen the soul of man descend, and wind herself around some armored oak; coat herself in rough, primordial luxury, and forget the worlds of angels; disembodied hosts. How blessed is this world? How cursed are those who curse it? Yet, somewhere high above, an airy light breaks through, -- not unnatural in essence, -- immaculate and wondrous to behold. Who, brought to touch the skirt of what is not, could love again the earth this love had trot? For the mind is water, the body rust; imagination weaves a scene more lovely and more likely than the grave. Where shall we enter, as souls on fire, inflamed by our desire for the visions we have made? Into a kettle, into a hovel, into a garden path? Along the seaside, upon a mare, under the bridge the city wears? Or shall we rise in subtlest, unfettered aspiration, into a sky of ecstasy sublime? Our gentle souls unhurried, languishing, and merging with the gossamer clouds. Our essence drawn as delicately into the warming sun.

The Decision

Actio personalis moritur cum persona -

A personal action dies with the person.

The best part of man is indistinguishable from the least part of God.

Most atheists and agnostics, when they seek to dismiss religion, make assumptions based on popular notions of who or what "God" is. They satisfy themselves as to the foolishness of a particular sect, or perhaps only the foolishness of the most exoteric, often unintended, interpretation of that sect's beliefs, and proceed to imagine that they have effectively proven the foolishness of all religion.

They do not understand: If we wish to know what religion is, we will have to study the mystics, and not the masses. 

Science is not debunked simply because the average man on the street, who believes in it, cannot demonstrate the scientific method. Nor do we conclude that his inept demonstration is an actual demonstration of that method. It is simply one man's foolishness. If he is a common man, then it is a common foolishness, but however prevalent wrong views may be, they do not suffice to blacken the things they distort. Truth remains what it is, and if we wish to know it, we must go to those who have made the sincerest and most expert efforts at realization; more precisely, we must go the way they went.

Now, the true mystics have always asserted that "God" is simply a word, a name, for something which defies description, and which may only be hinted at through actions, images, and ideas.

The greatest mystics have found, through the experience and practice of deep meditation, a level of consciousness so secure, so peaceful, and so profound, that they were able to experience a complete transcendence of the personality, the body, and all sense of separateness; with the input of the mind and senses hushed, they were able to sink, and to settle, into the very seat of their being; to actually experience their connectedness with everyone and everything. The love and fearlessness this inspires has made these individuals beacons of virtue. They have become symbols for something greater than themselves; historical guideposts, signifying the revelation of the purest truths and mysteries.

Not surprisingly, many of them have chosen to articulate their insights in poetic (i.e. symbolic (i.e. religious)) language, and to refer to this ultimate ground of being as "God", since it seemed worthy of the greatest name, and since there was apparently no greater name available than the name of "God". Likewise, many things in their experience are described as sacred, holy, or divine, because no lesser words seemed fitting. This is, of course, a value judgment, and not open to dispute.

"So, then, why all the chaos?" we ask.

The world is a great mystery because of God, and God is a great mystery because of the world. At the mystical level, where God is encountered, there is an experience of absolute order, yet chaos seems to reign in the "fallen" world. Many have come up with various explanations for this apparent discrepancy between the perfectly ordered core of being and the chaos of outward manifestations. Not all of them have called this world the creation of God, and most of them have seen man as somehow responsible for his fallen nature. But, then, this is not inconsistent, if we consider that man is also a part of God, with the peculiar freedom to dwell as an individual in a realm of chaos, or to choose a life of devotion to something infinitely greater than himself.

If you really want to know God, renounce your personal will. With absolute, unflinching faith, accept and approve all that happens to you in this present moment.  Genuine faith depends on nothing. It is not "faith in something"; rather, it is an aspect of God; a face of God; in the sense that it stands alone, as love does. Love of God is only Love alone -- Love of Love; pure Love. Likewise, true faith exhibits a sovereignty; the flame of faith is King; He requires nothing, answers to no one, and does not condescend to explain himself. "...he who seems most kingly is king." (~Thomas Hardy) It is the responsibility of subjects, if they are loyal, to bring themselves into accordance with this unflinching fire; reason, experience, action, imagination, passion, personality, -- all these do not justify faith, but may be utilized in the service of faith. We are talking about the will to push forward, to aspire, to ascend, and to receive with dignified acceptance everything this present moment has to offer; seeing that what is happening in this moment is the best possible thing -- because it is the only possible thing -- and affirming the hell out of it; pun intended.

Faith stands naked, as it were, in a wilderness of silence, and discovers something here which may be fittingly called "the presence of God". If you do not wish to make this sacrifice, please, do not blame God, or the vacuum of space, or any other thing. You choose to live at this level, and you agree (consciously or not) to endure all that comes with this decision, -- including experiences which may be called hellish; where all hope is lost and, therefore, one experiences a kind of anguish which seems as if it would go on for all eternity (though it only lasts a moment or two). On some level, you accept all of this as a natural consequence, and the just price for being an individual apart from God. On some level, you apprehend an order in this chaos, and a chaos in this order.

The other option, we know, is to seek order in order itself; to seek that Truth, Love, Faith, and Higher Sense which may only be found in the most silent places of the heart; knowing that, in order to make this journey, we will have to leave behind our cherished sense of separateness, along with all our thoughts, emotions, desires -- in short, everything we are, or believe we are. No matter, we will receive them all again, ten-fold, transformed, once "the first thing" is accomplished. First, we must surrender. There is no room for pride. Narrow is the way. Few will find it. Fewer will follow it. And fewer still will remain faithful to it. This is a path of absolute commitment.

But, if we decide not to sit in meditation, to stand in prayer, to walk in contemplation, -- in short, not to look for God, -- then we must not be surprised when we neither see nor understand "Him"; when, instead, we see a universe devoid of God, and full of our own egoistic projections. Let us go ahead and enjoy the show, -- or else, get down to the real work. The choice is ours. There is no judgment. Love beyond our wildest dreams is offered and waits for us to accept the invitation. All we need is the faith to enter that stillness, to stay there, and to wait while the process of becoming merged with God deepens, and deepens, and deepens, ad infinitum.

To generate such faith, the study of saints and great mystics throughout history is recommended; those who have given abundant evidence of their love, including the willingness and ability to be martyred; to endure every imaginable suffering out of compassion for others. If any man would mock religion, let him begin by mocking these paragons of virtue -- but, if he would not mock virtue itself, then let him not mock religion, which alone has given rise to such heroes.

Again, the mystics are themselves religious symbols, and therefore portals into the contemplation of the most profound virtues, truths, mysteries, and paradoxes. Like all truly religious symbols, they are charged, through and through, with significance and wonder. They cannot help but communicate their gifts, at least in part, to anyone who applies his heart attentively to their words and lives.

Let us begin, if we will, by cultivating a love of virtue, endeavoring to see the rarest beauty exhibited in the form of virtue, and no beauty where virtue is not. Truly, substance is the height of style, and good form takes the form of the good. If we love virtue, and find her beautiful, then we cannot fail to keep company with saints; in our reflections; in our studies; in our most deeply cherished aspirations and dreams.

Build a fire! Devote your heart to God and you will find what you seek; your own heart will become the treasure.

Sooner or later, in this life or the next, love itself will seduce you. And you will want to know, "Who have been the true lovers, among men?" You will look for the ones who loved. And when you find the philosophers, you won't stop, but mount up to the saints, and look for just one who might become, for you, an unwavering example of love's highest wisdom. And maybe you will find Jesus, a man of the highest creative genius, whose words outstrip Shakespeare, yet, who made his life a work of love and, dying, forever became a perfect symbol of sacrificial love. A man who contradicts himself only in doing more than he promises, for he says, "There is no greater love than this: that a man gives his life for his friends," but then he gives it even for his enemies. The spectacle of such a love seduces all hearts, carries all of us together with it to heaven.

Indeed, it is the surest proof of heaven; the very substance thereof. That love exists -- that even the notion of love exists -- is proof that God exists, and that He loves us.