our greatest blessings come to us by way of madness
Phaedr. 244a


The moon, which is caprice itself, looked in the window while you were sleeping in your crib, and said to herself: "That child pleases me."

And then she mellowly descended her staircase of clouds and passed noiselessly through the windows. Then she spread herself over you with the supple tenderness of a mother, and she left her colors on your face. Your eyes remained green, and your cheeks extraordinarily pale. It was while contemplating that visitor that your eyes became so bizarrely large; and she so tenderly crushed your throat that you have retained forever the desire to cry.

Meanwhile, in the expansiveness of her joy, the Moon filled all of the room like a phosphoric atmosphere, like a luminous poison; and all of that living light thought and said: "You will be eternally subject to the influence of my kiss. You will be beautiful in my manner. You will love what I love and who loves me: water, the clouds, silence, and the night; the immense, green sea; formless and multiform water; the place where you will not be; the lover you will not know; monstrous flowers; perfumes that make you delirious; cats who swoon on pianos, and who moan like women, with a hoarse, gentle voice!

"And you will be loved by my lovers, courted by my courtiers. You will be the queen of the green-eyed men whose throats I have also pressed with my nocturnal caresses; of those who love the sea, the immense sea, tumultuous and green, formless and multiform water, the place where they are not, the woman they do not know, sinister flowers that resemble the incense burners of an unknown religion, perfumes that trouble the will, and savage and voluptuous animals that are the emblems of their folly."

And it is for that reason, cursed, spoiled, beloved child, that I am now laying at your feet, seeking in all of your person the reflection of the formidable Divinity, of the prophetic god-mother, of the wet-nurse who empoisons all lunatics.

~Baudelaire, The Moon's Favors, Paris Spleen


This will be raw because that's where I am.

Letter to a friend.

Hi Michael,

What do I think is happening? Honestly?

This will be raw because that's where I am.

If you look at polls for the last 20 years for "what woman in the world was most admired?" you'd see it was Hillary.

If you look through the decades that Clinton has endured as she continued to work for the public good, because she did, you see that she has been attacked no matter what she does. The lies about her from decades ago still stand. No one has more experience with this sort of press, except, perhaps, Obama.

She knew that Sanders was a good story to cover, that it moved clicks online. (The lovable curmudgeon, our Gandalf and Dumbledore!) She has always had her eyes open to the media-coverage imbalance that anyone who can step out of their bubble can see. She saved her funds until now -- because Nov is what matters.

What's happened? In a nutshell, the Right knew the only way it could win this election was to divide the Democratic party. Mission accomplished.

It's also the way they came to power: people didn't vote in the off-years. They bought the lie that both parties are the same. The Right -- who basically owns the media, as we've been assured as the rise of Trump (it serves itself) held back on criticizing Bernie.

What I have to say to those who would risk Trump and vote 3rd party:

It's not anyone's job but your own to accept the responsibility of voting in a realistic way. You shape the world we all will have to live in.

Of course, oil is at the bottom of the Right, of the middle east, of Russia, of climate change. All those who draw their wealth and power from it. That includes all of us, too, not just the Saudi and big oil companies who stand in the center. Everyone ignores their part in it, which is where the real power of change lies.

Theocracy is an equal partner in the general irrationality. Voting 3rd party shares that same irrationality, the logic of magic. Or worse, hated and revenge.

Bernie on the web was boarded early by pirates who spun tales of hate. Bernie was great at the Convention. I loved him. But it was much too late. Moreover, the reaction there only confirmed that he was never really in control of the movement at all.

Technology has sorted us into bubbles, blind to what others think. We are simply manipulated, a full-digital step away from another dark age.

Please, lean towards the light in the darkness. Because power and war did not bring us here. Love did. The ones who kept the children fed, who bound the wounds, who kept and keep working for good. Love brought us all here, all life, and sustains us through dark times.



Shy one, shy one, 
Shy one of my heart, 
She moves in the firelight 
Pensively apart. 

She carries in the dishes, 
And lays them in a row. 
To an isle in the water 
With her would I go. 

She carries in the candles, 
And lights the curtained room, 
Shy in the doorway 
And shy in the gloom; 

And shy as a rabbit, 
Helpful and shy. 
To an isle in the water 
With her would I fly.




Without my dark

picture from Tess of the D'urbervilles

Without my dark, 
you would have no desires. 
No strengths in your urges, ambitions, or achievements.

I now see I've been so enamored of Hades, that Hades knows.
Part of us is always there. It's what we came out of. It's what we go back into.

Some long decade ago, I sat out on a hill and attempted (with all my heart) Tonglen breathing: to take in the pain of the world, see it turn to light, breathe it out. But somehow, the pain stayed in me.
How to let this go?

I cross the rivers of Hades
in sleep:


Carl Jung

7 planets, 7 notes, 7 colors leaves us arguing is it blue or green.

That we (actually) see spectrum by its inherent energy isn't so surprising. Quanta. Bursts of change. (Though transformation can be sticky. So many variables. Shades and shadow. Bring me my individuation toolkit, James.) Thus, the model of the sudden aha between separate beings trying to share thought, or even a single mind grasping suddenly what was so elusive, isn't so very strange.

And that understanding becomes tool as well as filter. Light can be blinding.

But "cause", "effect" -- these are time and space bound, as is even the extrapolated idea of "creator" (with all its good /evil baggage). Because time and space are properties of (at one with) matter.

Being in the body is contingent on these circumstances.... though imagination can pierce that circumference. Perhaps.

Jung spoke about and from the human experience. Which is all we know or can know. Science and Art provide us with suspicions beyond this filter. Jung was simply applying these tools to the mind, taking the physician's toolkit (biology, physics) beyond mere flesh.

Hard, dissecting a living being.


an interstitial aside

elvis costello says you have to learn to write in the dark so you won't forget what comes to you there. my legal pad this a.m. said:


The Ascent / Eros Psychopompos

For one who looks at Beauty in the only way that Beauty can 
be seen—only then will it become possible for him to give birth 
(tiktein) not to images of virtue—because he’s in touch with no 
images—but to true virtue—because he is in touch with true 
Beauty. And being theophiles (god-loved/god-loving) belongs 
to anyone who has given birth to true virtue and nourished it, 
and if any human being could become immortal, it would be 
this one.  ~Diotima in The Symposium

Evans, Nancy in Hypatia, Volume 21, Number 2, Spring 2006, pp. 1-27


"we are all broken images of that which is seen when the mind stands still" ~Joseph Campbell
Masks of Oriental Gods: Symbolism of Kundalini Yoga