Monthly Archives: September 2005


Eventually people have to switch to composting toilets. We commit slow suicide pumping our sewage into lakes.

Children of the future will not believe any of this happened. Sewage in our water systems, torturing people to death, torturing animals to death before eating them and torturing the environment. Smog, telephone lines everywhere and politically insane re-elections of 12 year old disturbed dysfunctional doorknobs from Mike Harris to George Bush.

Or maybe it always was this way and if there is a future it is colonizing outer space.


Many of my mother’s friends have died in recent years. I feel for her and the science fiction movie she now stars in. Who disappears next?

Can’t remember ever being unafraid of dying. Can one die without clawing and begging at life to keep you alive?

Sure admire the people who move to nunneries, monasteries even caves – trying to live philosophies that might short circuit the human condition, namely the constantly forgetting at any moment you will be no more.

Secretive Ouspensky Vs. Fruit

Is it possible to be in charge of one’s self; One’s inner world? Where are people free from the bullshit of their own bullshit? Or is it something that would never appear that way? Something by virtue of being affirmed becomes a negation. Like the story I was told twenty-five years ago by a guy who was a member of a secret Ouspensky group. The thrust of their work mostly a mantra “remember yourself” possibly a way of returning to an enlightened state, experiencing the nowness of life as opposed to the ordinary fantasy people walk around with – that they have the winning numbers on their latest lottery ticket.

In the secretive Ouspensky group story a guy dies who was a follower of that philosophy and he’s offered the opportunity to enter heaven but the devil asks St. Peter if he can ask him just one question. Then the devil asks him “did you remember yourself?” to which the dude responds yes. Promptly the devil says “He’s mine!” and whisks him away. They were always very impressed with themselves when they told that story and they told it a bunch but I don’t think it is as good as the Zen master falling from the cliff story who while falling to his death remarks about the taste of the strawberry he’s eating, “delicious”.