Are We There Yet?

Are We There Yet?
This is the sign that is over the front door of Aileen's and my house, our home, going OUT. Meaning that when someone leaves our house they are going into the ACTUAL Mental Ward.

I've always felt that way. When it is considered how much ugliness and killing and hatred there is in the world today, it actually makes perfect sense that this sign is over the door going out of the house.

Because that's where the real mental ward is.

Friday, February 15, 2013

Our Tesseract House

Okay Leen. Pay attention. Never mind. In a bit. Just put the ears on. Ok?

Good...

So the next one begins....

People have told me all my life a whole bunch of things. They've told me I was short, a stinker, stupid, a fool, nuts, and I guess a lot of really ugly junk also.But here goes folks. And I mean all of you amazing, and remarkable lives. And I mean every single one of them. Thee is important stuff on that score. So, hang onto your knickers, ... Cause it's going to be a BUMPY ride....

So... anyone want to get off this bus now, before that lunatic who stole it from the parking lot said that he was going to drive it of a cliff? I mean, is anyone here really worried if they left the light in the hall turned on, right about now. It's sort of that "HOLY CRAP" moment. Not in a bad way. Just in a kind of way when, as you go blindly into the night forest. Your flashlight was eaten by the troll at the bridge. And all you have is just  a wet match. Yeah, sort of that "HOLY CRAP" moment.

So, when people say all sorts of things, they are probably right. In their minds, and in their lives, it, what they, or we think or say to ourselves and to others is probably perfectly correct,.....  If he ONLY criteria were to be to judge the validity of what we say and feel, purely on the basis of our lives on the basis that they are succinct, by our outwardly existence. Meaning just because, when anyone does any given thing in the world. THAT THING HAS NEVER BEEN DONE IN THE HISTORY OF ALL TIME AND THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE.... BY THAT PERSON. WITH THAT PARTICULAR ENERGY, FREQUENCY, DENSITY, WAVE LENGTH, RANDOM INFORMATIONALLY PARANORMALLY EXPRESSED SECONDARY THOUGHTS TO LONG TERM MEMORY.

So, every time anyone living thing, no matter how small, or how large, or of what type.... Whether it is a rock, or a fish, other animal, or any living human being. Plus any aspect of what we are. Everything, an anything that we do, regardless of how many times by others. HAS NEVER BEEN DONE IN TH HISTORY OF ALL THAT IS, EVER WILL BE, OR IS NOW..... BY YOU... BY ANY OF US.

All the major variables in any given life make this certain. Therefore, it becomes logical to understand that all manner of thinking/cognitions are taking place, not only in all of humanity. But in all forms of life. For the real difference in processing information, regarding the multidimensionality of the signal recognition process. There are so many millions of factors and combinations that it is, given the current level of understanding and how the "physical" brain processes and handles information, .... To solidly grasp the reality. Nothing in this world has ever been done by any of..... until we do it...

And with that, the kind lady wearing that wonderful steel helmet with the spikes, politely said... "HEY! Get on with it....".

This is the most important piece of writing that I have done since I wrote, the CopperWood Tree, in 1974.  The details of my life are quite pertinent.  But most of it at this point in this particular these that I'm writing are simply not germane to the purpose of this Journal entry.  However, that being said, the one thing I want to say is that all my life is true for every single one of us based on what I have just written above.  Which is that we all see each other in a number of different ways it's just a part of how all or brains work and I have explained that someone above.

You will note that directly above beginning of the Journal articles on any given Journal page.  There is a new bar of two links one says home and the other says the name of a title regarding how my mother and thousands of other unwed mothers were murdered.  In that article are all the historical documents regarding my mother and my early life, which I have explained to me thousands of dollars to court orders and to private detectives to learn anything about.  So that information is available for you to augment what I'm going to be talking about.  And most of it has to do not only with my darling Aileen.  But with each and every single one of us.  And probably a lot more.

I was a sickly child. At age 3 I had spinal meningitis. I only have two memories of that time. Don't ask me how. Hell if I know. It's probably part of how that photo-lunatic memory of my brain works. Like great! I can remember stuff like that. But when it comes to remembering most of what happened in my life from 1968, through and including "most" of 1973, I can't remember hardly anything. Other than some of the dark stuff. Not the really dark stuff. That, and most of the other memories from that time frame have ... They call it hysterical amnesia. But, sometimes when I'm watching a movie from a certain time era. I actually get some of the memories... Back.

That of course can be either a good thing or a bad thing. And after the breakdown I had in 1989. It's just been considered a good  idea to force the issue. But also to tread somewhat cautiously. Merely on the account that, with the amnesia, there's no way of telling what image, or sound, or smell, or feel, is going to "trigger" what memory, or series of memories. So, it's not like a mine field. It's more like a kind of dark forest, like that "HOLY CRAP" moment. Only... not really. After a while you just sort of get used to it. Not being afraid. Because that can't be a part of the argument. Though for most humans that I know. Fear is definitely part of the human equation. And yet there are those who, through whatever process, or for whatever reason,  take that leap.

That leap where fear just becomes irrelevant. Now obviously, for those watching the daily news, WE meaning ....  HEY YOU GUYS! YEAH YOU! LIKE ALL OF US.... WE.... HUMANS.... HUMANITY! GET IT.... HUMANITY... ARE like TOTALLY AWARE THAT OUR WORLD IS FILLED BEYOND A SATURDAY FISH MARKET, WITH A GIGANTIC POPULATION OF AMAZING HUMANS, WHO, THROUGH WHATEVER PROCESS, HAVE CHOSEN, THROUGH SOME TRULY MACHIAVELLIAN AND INCREDIBLE JOURNEY, HAVE NO DAMN FEAR, BECAUSE THEY'RE FULL BLOWN LUNATICS... LIKE THE MORON DRIVING THIS BUSS AT 90, SINGING HI HO... AS WE CAREEN OFF AN 8000 CLIFF...

CHECK PLEASE!

I've always felt, after s seeing some of the amazing films, and researching it somewhat. That Devil's Island, and other containment environments, were, in some way an anthropological manifestation of tribal origins, based on earlier territorial perspectives. But then the two .... how shall I say it? words, and/or concepts, known to humankind came prancing along, like that lunatic driving this damn bus! Politics an religion. Sort of like going to a wake, where everyone forgot to tell everyone HEY! IT'S A WAKE.... RIGHT.... WAKE.... SO  WHERE THE HELL'S THE WHISKEY... (just kidding. I'm actually, by birth, so the prevailing knowledge goes, 'an Irish Sephardic Jew).

In any event, when I was watching some of these amazing films about things like Devil's Island. As life sort of when on. I always knew that things like that are more tribal, than being much else. And that all  religion and politics does is to 'muck it up' a bit.

But in this world we have people to, out of the way that they make their choices and process  information, truly find 'fear' to be irrelevant. Sometimes it's because of strength. Sometimes it's because of belief. Sometimes is because of feelings. Whatever. But for as many humans that there are, who live in fear of one kind or another, which is a figure so large as to be obscene. And that's a lot of humans... people.

So then the number of the people who, for whatever reason, and through whatever process... step away from fear. Obviously, in the United States, we have a problem, just like the world, has a problem, with the mentally ill, or those of us are different. In some countries they just kill us. Here in the United States they either give us medicine, most of which is dangerous to take, does not work, and even has lasting effects. This of course being done to 'make the mentally ill more normal'. When every single medical journal for the  past 75 years has shown, and proved that approximately 2/3 of the mentally ill community. And the major factor in mental illness is the factor of sensitivity. Mental illness has, in part, it's roots in the sensitivities that all humans have as a result of our emotional and "Logical" sides of our brain actually do the same process, and work together in governing our emotions and the choices that we make. And the lives we live. It just feels like it's coming from the heart, because the blood flow changes, more as a result of emotional information, than it does to logical information. But that's a good thing!

In any event... so we have good amazing people who step away from fear. And then we have those who step away from fear as an escape, or even a weapon. All manner of poor choices. Or at the very least potentially poor choices. Because the primary result has been the destruction of just about everything in the WORLD! LIKE HEY GUYS! NICE SHOOTING! OR.... HEY.... DO YOU ACTUALLY SHOOT THAT THING, OR LIKE JUST PLAY GOLF WITH IT?

So. There you are! No. Don't look at the map. There you are. A huge amount of fear in the world. And then some great courage and one hell of a lot of totally OUT OF THEIR EVER LOVING WHAT THE HELL  MINDS! You know BRAND Q in those TV Commercials. The ones where HAZMAT crew directly off stage, that NOBODY can  see. Because we  all them all manner of things. Oh their just having a bad day. Bad day my roller coaster bad nightmare from hell's rear end. Look! I'M NUTS OKAY! I'M CRAZY. WELL, NOT REALLY. OKAY, A LITTLE. LIKE LET'S SEE, FILL UP THE ENTIRE GRAND CANYON WITH WATER. AND I'M LIKE A PIECE OF WOOD SORT OF BUMPING AROUND DOWN STREAM. ....

These humans, putting the word lightly, generate more negative energy at every level and of every kind, that the resonance of all the fields are like well..... picture Donald Duck DRIVING YOU KIDS TWO WORK... AFTER DROPPING LIKE 10 HIT'S OF ACID! Well, their' sort of like this BIG BOX.... No. Not the arc. Different country. Hell of a different time. And the cast of players was different. And all they know is how to keep feeding this gigantic monster that they created... this huge industrialized military complex. That in  reality, is shaping, and involved with, and part of, supportive of, and in some kind of economic association, or agreement with. That's what all the humans, all through history have done. Was to support the then, "not coined, or fully cognated concept of the industrialized military complex. In every cultural identity that has ever existed, the concept of centralizing, and industrializing, to one extent or another, regardless of how advanced, or primitive, has always been part of the culture. Again, regardless of mildly, or how aggressive , or to that percentage it is in the culture. There has always been the centralize and industrialize the various forms of negative energy and behavior, that produces the loss of fear as a result of a disregard for life.

And then, there are  others. This is the smallest part of those who step away from fear. They do this because there is a common experience in this life. The concept that so many of us have regarding death. The amount of focused energy that one has to maintain, when confronting that common denominator to us all is rare and incredible. Because it's not just courage. Though that is part of it. This group is the  group that has either suffered a loss. Deals with some form of limitation in their lives where they actively make the choice to not give up. They stretch their minds and begin, what some religions consider a spiritual journey. Perhaps it is. But then we are ALL on A spiritual journey. However different or varied they may be.

The details are not germane. At the risk, what risk. This ain't a risk. This is that same lunatic driving this bus of that stupid cliff... Now I officially want my buck 50  pack for this bus ride. Some tell the nice bus driver to take his had off the dynamite and to please stop singing that song from Titanic!

No really. As I have said before The physical world just sort of found each other clumsy. My biographical profile has the full scoop on my life with father. (wow! what a lousy pun!). But heh. As my biographical profile says. Dad and I were sort of like Abbott and Costello. We really were that way. Suffice to say that my mother, having been a gun moll, at one of the Chicago rival gangs, during the time Al Capone, had hired a bunch of lawyers to get the Purple Gang off for the St. Valentines Day Massacre. So was one of his lawyers at the time. But that's another story.  Mom. Well, let's see ... crazy just doesn't seem to fit. Dangerous is way too extreme. Well, let's just say, she was a gangster's moll. And she was Catholic and dad was Jewish.

 

mom28

 

So naturally that marriage was destined to be a total laugh riot. Wrong sluggo. It was hmmmmmm. How about NUTS! And I don't mean the kind that you get from the store. That we get in those nice little cans we can't ever get open, so we end up picking up the Smith and Wesson and saying... "Hey ... tell God I said hi... okay?"

It was the kind of can of nuts that when opened... well, golly. I Seem to remember .... well the only thing that comes to mind is the kind of that only shows up in those horror stories where everyone dies. Like in the world... everyone. Because I always thought when I was growing up was Medusa. I mean should turn anything to stone.  Medusa! I mean really. Now what kind of wacko, who just landed on the dark side of BRAIN DEAD, thinks is a good damn idea to have some dentist who probably trained on DEVIL"S ISLAND (see there's the devil's island), to put BARBED DAMN WIRE in a kids mouth! Which of course caused me to have a slight cleft palette. Which  produces a slight lisp when I talk. The full story is in my biographical profile. And then during the same week, tells her kid that if they wet the bed again, they are going to put electric sheets in the bed to shock you? But that was mom. And she and had a kind of natural relationship. She naturally hated me, and I was naturally always aware of my own survival... When leaving the house, if she was there, she'd always say see you later... and I would always start replying at the wonderful age of 6.... "not if I see you first....". Yeah... that kind of relationship story you find in some tabloid along with man eats toaster and shoots coffee pot, fearing it was an intruder, but making sure he grabbed that last piece of chocolate cake off the breakfast room table...Then dies immediately from eating the toaster! Yeah. that kind of can of nuts.

So by the age of 12, mom and I had pretty much understood each other. She wouldn't mind if a  truck hit me. And I was thinking of ways to pay the driver off to swerve.. like lots... and get lucky... give Mom a reservation at that  great road dinner in the sky... Yeah that planet, over there. The one that's ON FIRE!

So as the conductor said to the hobo asking if he could ride in the cattle car. And the conductor Sure. Got insurance?

I had a dear friend die, well actually two. One was my neighbor, who had brain cancer. And so I sort of took care of him. Then there was Kyle. Kyle was a wonderful soul. Just 16. But she had kidney failure while at the same time dealing with Diabetes. Kyle died just three days before my darling Aileen and I met. She had been following my writing for a solid year  on-line. And I didn't know she lived in the same town, meaning Cleveland, as she was living.

The night I was actually so depressed that I was in the bathroom at my apartment and actually had the knife at my throat when the phone rang.

It was Aileen.  She explained to me that she actually was living in Cleveland.  And that she read my treatise that I put online on behalf of Kyle dying.  And she learned that I was separating from my family.  In actuality few days before my mother actually through 12 inch knife at me and told me that the only thing my mother did wrong when she died was not taking me with her.  She actually called me failed abortion.

In any event.  Needless to say I did not continue what I was doing.  And I made arrangements to meet Aileen.  For the first time on November 27, 1993 and the time was exactly 8:45 PM.  And when I stepped onto the porch of this house.  I basically leaned down and took in her fragrance.  And all I said, was, my God you smell like home.

To which Aileen responded, my darling, that is because you already are.

And from that single moment for 18 years we were never apart.

And as I have said my darling Aileen was a child prodigy.  She was playing in the Cleveland Orchestra when she was 12 years old.  She was planning the cello and her mother was playing the violin.  She was classically trained.  In my own life I was classically trained as well.  But only spent about five years claim flamenco guitar out West.  And when I met an individual who was dying of cancer and who was a classical guitarist I gave her my guitar.

So we had this musical aspect that was part of our lives.  The darker side is that Aileen and was a domestic violence victim where she had a scar right across the.  Top of her fore head.  So she always liked for things to be round and never sharp.  Additionally, she had lost all three of her children with one of them dying right in her arms about 45 min. after she was born.  And she was brutally raped three different times.  So another thing we had in common was that I had been brutally raped when I lived in Denver at one time.  But when I attempted to report the crime.  Of course they did not take the report. Because they said that I was a guy.  And that it didn't matter.

So naturally Aileen battled with a tremendous amount of internal pain and struggle.  And from what I am given to understand.  She actually knew she was dying of cancer in 1991, which was two years before we even began communicating.  Though it's possible she may have finally heard about me or gotten some curiosity about perhaps when I was writing at that time.  So in reality she actually was reaching out to me in 1993, but never told anyone about it.

So she battled with her alcoholism.  Throughout the 18 years we were married while she was in fact an insurance agent an insurance underwriter.  And she never missed a day of work.  She was incredible and still is.  So her alcoholism was not as a result of laziness or any kind of nonchalant attitude as much as it was as a result of horrific emotional pain.  All you have to do is look in her eyes.

oldaileen006

 

I knew, the very moment I looked into her eyes. This was my one moment. That one single second we all get in our lives. This one single second where all that I had been and would ever be was right there, in front of me. Nothing had to be said. We were handfasted, which is the Wiccan tradition of marriage. It was a spiritual blending of the Wiccan and  the Jewish traditions, because my father had died just  a few months earlier.

1990-08

My mother and father, while having a great deal of money, where alcoholics. And while my mother hated me for being raised Jewish. We were not allowed to drink until age 21. Which I did not. But I do remember when I was like 6. The same year my dad  told me to get lost one afternoon. And the police found me up at the corner drug store looking for lost. But that one night when the blessing was said, "how is this night different from all other nights, ". from the end of  the table next my grandma, I blurted out, "dad gets drunk!".

My sister got up and left. My Mother threw her wine at me. My father told me to go to my room. And grandma? Hehehee. Good old grandma. She was howling! I could hear her as I was running upstairs, with Mary saying that I was going to get it. Hmmmmm. Perhaps as we got older I started short sheeting her bed. And putting rotten eggs in her lingerie drawer.

1960-212

Of course the best stunt I ever pulled was at her wedding. Mary wasn't big. So to speak. So she was actually wearing a padded bra. And me, the bright little maniac I was. Took the padding out of her bra and replaced with rice. So that, even though I was there in front with her, as she walked down the aisle you could hear the rice moving in her bra. To which she whispered that I should check my insurance before leaving the building.

1970-040

I was in college when Mary got married. And in those days, well I guess I still do, have this really dry sense of humor. We used to move one guy's VW all over campus. Harmless stuff. But outlandish.

See, I was a runt. So, like I was beat up about once a week, whether I needed it or not. In 1966 I went to Culver Summer Naval School, in Indiana.

1960-128

But while there, I met a representative for this school in Tucson, Arizona. Well with mom now becoming like an agent for the dark side. And dad trying to invent new ideas of how to get to me take care him when he got older. Look. My dad was a lawyer. But he was a gangster. Okay? Not me. Him. Okay. Dad always slept with a 45 under his pillow and carried a 38 in his jacket pocket at all times. When I was like 5 and six he was taking me out to the back yard to shoot squirrels. Which seemed to work until he shot out one of the neighbors windows. So, well, I was sort of used to the guy carrying a rod. I guess. But hey. Him and his ideas.

I'm 21, right. Okay... I've been doing financial and computer with with dad now since I was 16. And Now I'm doing production analysis on the ware rate of the new linen because it seemed to be lasting longer than the domestic blend. So, I'm walking downstairs to get a drink of water, an my dad yells at me to come into his office.

MomandDad354

Yeah... what's up?

Well, hey, he says as he pours himself another martini.  I've got this great idea.

Oh really. Well, good ... something new. So, let me guess, you want to buy land shares this time on the room right? Last year it was selling snow shovels at the outposts in northern Alaska. Okay. So tell me oh great one.... what's the idea...

Now you should  respect your elders....

What elders... I'm taller than you... So tell me dear old dad... Okay. What's the great idea...

Well, see, we'll buy this broken down motel in the middle of the desert.

Well sure... I leave you alone for 5 minutes... 5 minutes...

No wait, see, we'll pay off the locals and build a highway to the motel.

Yeah. Okay highway. Got it. And so we have this motel in the of bumf'n everywhere... Right And a road... So, like ya know, it's really a small thing. I mean it's sort of what you PAY me for! Okay... so, have you like perhaps thought about WHO THE HELL ARE GOING TO BE OUR CUSTOMERS?  I mean if the broken down building in the middle of the desert don't ya think MAYBE there's a REASON?

No, see, we'll pay off the locals and get traffic redirected.

Right redirect traffic. Say have you checked the amount of my last CHECK? Redirect traffic... Come on dad... Look, I know it's 5PM SOMEWHERE. But look...

Now wait.

yeah... sure... hit me...

Well, once we have the traffic we can open the motel and make money.

So, yeah right. Make money. Open the joint.... So, okay... now, I know there's a good idea in there... I mean... yeah...

Well, see, you'll clean up the place and make the beds and do the laundry, and I'll sit at the front desk, and get drunk and take the money.

Well, sure... Of course. Great idea... You get drunk and I'm well, Don't you think I'm just a bit to like keep getting SCREWED WITHOUT EVER HAVING TRIED THE REAL THING...

But don't you want to take care of you dear old dad when he gets older...

Yeah sure do dad... I'll put you on a train to some funny farm out west, and send you a post card once a year ... at tax time...

There's nothing wrong with money. Of course not. It just get dirty... right?

My father...

Well, anyhow, with Aileen it was the perfect moment. But she  was part Sioux Indian. And so when she drank, her chemistry, plus the fact that she had no gallbladder gave her no tolerance to alcohol hardly at all. So, not only was it hard because I was always trying to be supportive but without enabling. And at the same time, well it was just hard. I always said I belonged to the 150 club and the bite your tongue club. Because that's what takes. You have to try 150% all the time no matter what, for the other person. Regardless of any fighting or anything; And you have to bite your tongue. At least if you love the other person. And in the case of Aileen Terra. She was, and shall always remain.... My other heartbeat.

aileen  on porch in august

 

 

So we began as a team writing for human rights. She was the activist and I was the advocate. And all we ever tried to do was just turn back the violence in the world. To put that junk back in the box.

Always knowing that perhaps what we were doing was saving only one life. And still,  as we used to joke...

And Sodom said to Michael, the archangel... And if there be but one soul in the town of the righteous. With you spare the town.

And Michael said, if there is one man of value in the town, the town will be spared.

And then we'd laugh, knowing that we were up against unbeatable odds.

 

 

And so, Aileen, who I always called My Leen, well, we looked at like fighting the like unbeatable element in our world that was literally tearing out world apart. So I began to whistle The Streets of Laredo. It just seemed like it made sense. It's  very pretty little piece of music. And it had a lot of meaning for us. Our friends were always dying or being killed.

 

 

I mean this all started when I was 8 years old...

 

1950-37

 

At the Hanna Theater, downtown, the musical The Man From LaMancha was playing. And one morning, Mom dropped Mary and I off for the show. So we were sitting in the right section of the theater, 3rd row.

So, like I'm 8. Okay... And okay...I was already having transgendered issues,  or they were first sort of popping up. Anyhow,  at this   presentation I think, and I may be wrong. But I think that it was Topol who was performing the part of Don Quixote. Well, needless to say I was like mesmerized. So by the end of the show, well at the end of the final act. Don Quixote is lying there dying. I had just lost grandpa's brother about 6 months earlier. Dr. Ally Maschke was the director of Medicine at Mount Sinai Hospital of Cleveland. And he was sublime.

Well, anyhow, at the end of the last act Don Quixote is dying. And then Aldonza the wine maid comes in. ...

Don't you remember...

Remember... it seems but a dream...

But it was real... truly it was real...

was it really that important...

It was everything....

You spoke the words...

To dream the impossible dream....

 

Then suddenly...

Don Quixote springs out of bed, though he's dying...

On thy knees to me my lady! Tis UNSEEMLY!

For what matter wounds to the body of a night errant... for each time he falls, he shall rise and rise to the wicked!

Well, my aunt Helen dad's sister had been taking me operas and concerts and musicals since I was 5. So when I saw this, even though I was now already a grown up 8... I jumped out of my seat and began yelling, as loud as I could... Bravo. Aunt Helen had always told me that when I truly liked how the performers who working so hard... to say thank-you... by yelling Bravo...

And well, at 8 years old... I thought I had seen really something. So Kept yelling it Mary, next to me was crawling under her seat. She was old.She was 12 already. But I was 8. And this was good. So I was yelling Bravo!. The lady next to me, I guess must have really old. I think she was like 30... But she actually had tears in her eyes. So she grabs y hand, and then her little girl's hand... and the three of us are standing there, yelling Bravo... and ... of course...the entire theater then do so as well...

It's funny how one single word. We use like thousands and thousands of them every day to try and express all sorts of stuff... But one little word... just to say thanks... and look what it did...

Well, we literally stopped the show. And that's when it happened. The most significant thing in my entire life, to that point, and one that would forever change the direction my life would take.

And the end of the show, the first curtain call, the main actors were all the way down on the other side of the theater. So Mary and I could barely seem them very clearly. As I was looking down at Don Quixote... I don't know... but he suddenly looked right back at me.. right in the eyes... He leans to his female, Aldonza, Dolcenea. And says something, and puts on this huge silver helmet with this long feather plume... and walks right in front of the other actors ... right in front of Mary and I... and Mary leans toward me chuckling, 'hehehe now you're going to get it...'.

So Don Quixote gets to right in front of me...I'm  leaned back in my chair... and he lifts his visor... and smiles... and then he winks... He takes out this huge long sword... and then takes off his helmet and extends his arm holding the sword right over my head... And then in one motion, he raises it and bows down to where his face is like maybe 2 feet away... And he winks again, and whispers... "Thank  You".

That's all I needed. I knew from that single moment that he had not just saluted me.  He was passing me the baton. That wand. That sword ...It was from that moment on that dreams became more important than just ideas. For ideas often, if not always came from dreams. And this was a dream I know that I had to follow...

And that's what my darling Leen and I did for 18 years. Dream... To stand with the fools on that hill that only the fools and dreamers go. To stand there. Many of our comrades having fallen. Our horses now filled with more move than fight. Our shields dented an bent. Our swords crooked... But we stand. We stand against  that darkness in ourselves, that we fools call the dark lord. And we stand there defiantly ... declaring... these souls belong to God ...you will not harm them...to the death you shall not pass...

And most  look at us on this distant hill and call us mad and fool. And yet, as I always say... is the little girl or little boy with their finger in the dyke, preventing the flood stupid for doing so? Or are the people walking by her and calling her stupid, really the stupid ones?

He became my guiding light. That's why the other day, I did something I have never done in my entire life, with a computer. I wrote to William Shatner to say thank-you. I told him that no matter how or why things happened that place him on the bridge of the Enterprise, that I fell in love with him and Leonard Nemoy, Nichelle NIchols. (I think that I have her name right). That all of them on that show, did more than just inspire an entire generation to become interested in space. But to always go beyond, by never accepting what you are, compared to what you, yourself know you can be, and do...Not what others tell you... what you tell you... Star Trek  taught me that 'nothing runs me... because I run me...'.

The dream...

 

 

And so we began... one step at a time... one email... one petition... at first... then more... and more... and we just kept going. Never really concerning ourselves with the result. But always thinking that if we at least make the attempt. If we at least take a stand. Then there is always hope.

So we fought for the good fight. the fight to protect those who's voices are often to soft to be heard. The children...

The love for our future, and the love of our present...

 

But then my darling... well she got sick. My darling was in trouble. Where she had been my rock and I hers. Now hers had come loose... and the waters were pushing her downstream...

NOT on my watch...

aileenapril062010 (3)

 

But Mickey, it's just two years. That's not long enough to ... Mickey... what the hell are we going do now?

Hey kiddo. Remember this.. if the old man will not allow the smallest sparrow to fall from the sky... guess what... AIN'T no way any bird is going to hit the ground in this house. Okay. Nothing, hits the ground in the house. That's what we do now...

I want you to want IT... more than you ever wanted anything in your entire life. Want IT so much... that when you wake up in the morning I want to hear you say... "I'm GLAD I woke up today... thanks ..."

But I don't ... Mickey I don't know that I can do that...

Well my darling... now you have know... Maybe before you shadow boxed with your wanting to here. now we take the gloves off... Now you have to... you have to WANT to be glad...

It took Aileen 3 months... to do that... 3 long hard months. Two falls. Lots of tears... lots of pain... Lots of everything that could pretty well push your heart right down into the bottoms of your feet... And then, at 3am when I was fixing her breakfast.... And setting her meds up for the day... she sat right up in bed... and said really loud...

"Okay! Damn IT! I'm Glad. Okay... I'm GLAD... Okay... I'm glad I woke up... So... Now what do we do?"

I came into the library where her  bed was... and I stood there... and said...

"Bravo my darling. Bravo. Now... Well now Leen... Now we walk. Instead of just standing here in the wind. Now we walk my love..."

aileenjune4

 

 

And Aileen fought. She fought like hard. She battled Hell itself. 6 different times she went into a full blown liver coma and six different times I had arguments... someone might say... she's done. And I'd say...

Now hold on there. God made her and God will be the one who breaks here. That's the heart of the matter. Okay. The very heart. Why not let him give us the heads up on this call. He's not going to hurt us. He'll let us know when she's done. And he and I talk all the time. So she ain't done. Okay...

aileen 2nd chemo treatment

Then after her second and last chemo treatment... well, first Aileen went into a coma where they had to take her to the hospital her chemicals where shot. So she's there in the ER... and stiff as a board. Hears and sees nothing. Sitting right up looking straight ahead...

And my mind was like blowing up... I had to find some way to reach her... I just had to find a way... And DAMN IT I  WAS GOING TO FIND A WAY...

Then it came to me... music. it's how we always could communicate... So I leaned down to her left her... she was as stiff as a board. I couldn't even hold her hand... and I began to whistle... over and over again... The Streets of Laredo... The one song that had linked us for so long in the work we did... The soul of our work. Standing not only for the ones who we were trying to help. But standing always for those who we had lost as well...

 

 

Then, after about whistling for about 20 minutes... my hand was on the railing right below her left hand... and then... with the rest of her as stiff as a rock... her left thumb went out and touched my hand. And there was a single tear coming down her cheek.

Then without moving anything, her eyes or any part of her body... she yelled out...

now who's in charge here... and why the hell have these policies been stamped approved...

Then silence. But her thumb never left the back of my right hand. And After she said that I said softly to her without moving...

Well, it wasn't my fault somebody just screwed up... No problem...

Ah! There you are my darling... There you are... It's okay sweetie... You found the surface. So just float on up to the top darling... I'm right here... Okay...right here... Breath easy... Take a breath luv...

And she did... almost 20 hours later, in her hospital during dinner the next night... Leen looks over at me...

Mickey...you were there right?

Sweetie. I was right there. I never left.

Really. That's amazing. 

Why's that honey?

Well, I could hear you. I mean I could hear you. But you sounded so far off Mickey. Like you were far away...

I know honey... It's okay... the darkness in that forest can  play funny tricks on your ears... I was right here... you were just hearing me ... like you'd find a flashlight on the ground in the dark. Grateful for the flashlight... but surviving because of the light. No problem. You're back.

But what about the next time?

Look. Like I said Leen. It doesn't matter. The only way that the old death is going to get anywhere near you is that he'll have to go through me first. And if he wants to try. No big deal. LET HIM BRING AN ARMY. Cause that's the only way you're going down that hallway by his hand. God and I have an agreement. You go with him taking your hand from mine.Death can just go and pout. But God's call this shot. Got it?

Yes...

And then two days, later. Another coma... this time I did the same thing. Whistled the streets of Laredo. I whistled that song for 38 straight hours... every 20  minutes. And every twenty minutes with her eyes closed and groaning so loud that you could hear her outside the house... I kept whistling... And with all this going on. Every time I whistled  that song her eye lashes fluttered... That was the only movement she could make...

So when her cancer doctor called at about 8pm that night to tell me that he thought she was done... I only said one thing...

Look doc... I know Aileen better than you know cancer... and she AIN'T done... got it...

And the next morning, while I continued whistling that song... her eyes finally opened...

She couldn't move them... So I leaned over her bed. When she could look into my eyes... I could see she was terrified. She couldn't talk. Couldn't move. And all she could do was barely recognize me...

So I said...

It's okay Leen. It was just  bump. Okay... just a bump. You're okay darling... The bumps makes remember to keep our seats so we don't fall off. I got you honey... just breath easy luv. Okay... take a breath.. I'm right here...

Remember sweetheart, the last face you see on earth will be me... making sure that you get there... okay...just rest luv...

And by that nigh she was back again...

 

 

And so we went on... one day at a time... one foot at a time... during the eight months that my darling survived... I never slept more than 30 minutes during any 24 hours. No distance was to far. Nothing was to much. Nothing mattered other than being what I knew I had to be... I had to be her rail. I had to make sure that she got down the tracks to that one place where she could cross over in peace... On her own terms without some jerk death pushing his hands down on her. So nothing mattered.

I told people when they would ask me how I was doing all this, with my back and all... My answer was, and remains simple. What  would I not do. She is my wife. She is my wife. In all that exists what would I not do. It my absolutely greatest honor for me to be allowed to use everything I have ever learned in my entire life. Every book. Every class, every single thought... for just one purpose... to save someone else's life. And this just ain't any bus in the garage... this is my Leen. My other heartbeat.  But what about any of us? Would we not do the same? To save our wives or our daughters, our sons, and sisters and brothers. Or that wayward soul who has stumbled and fallen and thinks that no one sees them. What would any of us NOT do... Tis an honor to be allowed to stand on that ground. That's how I've always looked at it. It was the most supreme honor that God ever gave me.

And about 3 weeks later it was brought out that Aileen could not survive another chemo. And she got angry...

aileen in 11c

 

So why the hell didn't anyone tell me that the damn chemo wasn't going to cure anything...?

I was holding her hand and I looked at her face...  I knew she was frightened... So I said...

because Leen... if we had told you then you wouldn't have tried so hard...

Well a fat lot of good it did me... now what the hell do we do/

So I leaned down where I could look her right in the eyes...

Today we become glad. We're glad we're here right now. Then tonight we're going to be glad again that we got to tonight. And then tomorrow we'll get up and do it all over again...

Then my darling had tears in her eyes... But I had to remain strong...

Mickey... I'm scared... Mickey... then what...

Then, my darling... Well, then my darling Leen... you die... But I'll always be right there, by your side. No matter where you are. On this side of the veil or the other, you will always find mine... My hand to yours forever...

You promise?

Leen, remember how you would sometimes wonder how much I love you?

Yeah, so?

Remember what I always said?

Oh...

Right... you want to know my love my darling. Watch me. Watch what I do... there be my love my darling. There be my love for thee...

No worries?

Well... I guess.... okay... no worries.

then we're jake. Right?

Yes... I ... well I guess we are...

Good. Now just hold on darling. Cause no matter how hard that wind blows you ain't go nowhere until his hand taps on the glass ... right?

Right...

4 days before my daring died. After she had just been given her bath, I came in to have a cup of coffee with her... and she said...

Hold out your hands... I have a surprise for you...

It was a locket of her hair. In a  braid.

I looked down and said... Ah ha. Now this is something really special. this has to have the perfect place. It's just like you... Can't stop going after those loose ends... So well, this was a good cut Leen. A great cut.

Aileen at malachi house 111510

 

This was taken at the above moment. When my darling gave me a lock of her hair to carry with me on my spiritual journey that was going to be a part of ... from the other side...

And then 3 days before she died... she went into another liver coma... for the last time...

Aileen at malachi house with the red comforter

 

And as I think about it... I  remember that April. I took my darling Leen out to the back yard in her wheelchair. And I pulled her onto my shoulders and then knelt down on the ground. Once I got Aileen on her knees, I dragged over the planter for her rose bush. The one she wanted to plant before she died.

I dug the hole.. and then pulled the rose bush over so she could grab hold of it. And she then placed the bush into the hole....

When June came along and I saw that first blossom on that rose bush... I wrote this note and put it with Aileen's dinner tray...

 

aileens rose2

this is the first rose on Aileen's rose bush that bloomed in June 2010, She died, of course, on November 20, 2010.

My answer to my Other Heartbeat. My darling Leen, about this one small flower...

 

How Do I Love Thee (written 6/3/2010)

Like the rose that has a famous name

Like a day that has yet to begin

For a thousand nights and a thousand days

Beyond all that I have been and all that I shall hope to be

How do I love thee?

My my darling... I love you as the earth and the world loves this rose...

You planted this for me... And now I care for it... For you... And every step that I take and every breath that I take... I find you there... And as

I watch and care for this single rose...

I shall always remember and know that my Leen... MY LADY... My other heartbeat put this there for me... And now I shall remark in my own soul every single day... That I love thee as this rose yields life to all.. In it's simplicity and it's brilliance... And it's ever reaching grasp at life... Just like you.... My darling Leen...

So, grab my hand... And let's walk... Step by step...we'll walk... And we'll always know that with every single step we are always home...

For we are in each other's heart... Now and always...

How do I love thee...

With all that I have been and am, and ever shall be...

When Aileen was in her 20's someone stole her fabulous cello that had been made in Marseilles, France in 1789, and was actually played during the French Revolution. I always hoped that if she found Ma on the other side, that between the two of them ... I just knew that my darling would find her cello...

And she did...

 

 

When I heard this lovely lady playing the cello like this... I could feel all through me... Aileen had found her cello... But more... now my darling was not merely playing the music... Now my Leen was the music...

Well my darling. How'd I do? I told you I would get to it. And now my love. I have to tell you Leen. I know you're the music because people Leen. People you have never met. They're all here my love... and now.... now you're not playing alone anymore... Because those of us who hear your music... are now playing with you....

 

Feel us my darling. Hear our music. For it is a grateful noise to you... your courage... your bravery... your heart... your soul... and to the s struggles that are going on by the second. We are playing with you my darling... Play your music  my love. Be that sound... Call them my darling... they are leaving and need a compass. You and all the wonders there... be your music... and guide them home... Home Leen. to their lost loves. To their old friends... To that grand final step. That last adventure. Be the music. And let ours join with yours... Let us make that grateful sound unto the lord and all life... grateful for in a brief instant in time... time did stop... and for  18 years... a miracle happened in our lives and those who we touched... It was you my darling... you were the miracle... and one that I know was presented here on earth by the hand of the real master... the one who made everything...

So I've been moving right along Leen. Checking off the promises as I go. the last one, about bringing up what happened to Ma is finally done right. She has her own page. And now... well yeah... that's the next harder one. The way we planned. Do the easy ones first and then do the harder ones next put the hardest to the end of the list.

Well, the next promise is that I would try and be that voice, no matter how insignificant or small... for the greater, and higher good.

Yeah... it's a tough one alright... But I've always felt that if someone stands on the highest mountain and yells and screams his voice that he is never heard as well as the soul who goes to the deepest valley, in the darkest woods and simply whispers...

 

 

And then soon my love... well, who knows. If the good die young. I probably will be the last soul on earth. Standing on some cliff somewhere throwing rocks in the ocean... lol

But then... then my darling Leen... I'll be home... walking over that hill, without a cane... and whistling... Home to you... Mom and just home... in your arms and you in mine...

 

 

Some people might not like how I go after religion and politics. Some people might not like how I do what I do as a human rights advocate. But it's my job.

It's my job to provoke. To incite. To make uncomfortable. To challenge, not only you, the reader. But me. To challenge myself. To always never be satisfied with where I am standing. Because standing means I'm not moving. And if I'm not moving, then I'm not adapting to constant change. And I'm most certainly not doing what I should be doing. to carry on, with my darling Aileen at my side. Only now in a new form. In a new way. With her  as more of part of my soul, and all that I am and that I shall ever be.

So, in my own clumsy way. I bump into the trees, and fall smack down on  my rear. I laugh, Cry. tell jokes. And get angry. I use every emotion I can if it will help just one single person. And then if that help is only realized only one time in all that I have written. Then, when that happens. No mater what. I shall call my work here ... good work. For if this journal can help even only one single soul, and then only one time in their entire lives. Then, my effort has been good work indeed. For then my work has fulfilled my oath as  human rights advocate... To always come last...

To make sure that, no matter what, other what simply my basic survival, that I will use any resource, and any point of view necessary, or that will work. Even if I have to make a fool out of myself to do do. For a life is a life. And to me. All are equal. So if I help even one person, only once in their entire life. Then, in the words of Dr. Albert Schweitzer, then, "... I have changed the world... one person at a time...".

 

 

Watching my darling Aileen. My Leen. Watching her die. Not being able to feel, or do anything that would really save her. I had to set my mind to it right off. I was her rail. I would be that rail. I would have fought every being in the universe if it would have given me just one more day. Even now, I'd pour out all of my days and nights for just one sip. One moment in my darling Aileen's arms again. To feel that other heartbeat outside of my chest, instead of inside.

But that's not possible. For 18 years I was held. For 18 years I would wake up at 1am to make sure that Leen didn't  fall asleep reading the way she sometimes would. For eighteen years, when I would wake in the morning, I would reach over and feel her leg. And then say to myself. "okay. Now I remember. Now I remember why I get up every morning and keep going... It's Leen of course.

It's only been since she has moved to the other side that I fully understand that my darling Leen needs my strength and my protection as much as she did in life. And it's only now that I have to do that without being able to feel her heartbeat outside of my chest. Or to feel  her arms around me. Now I have to do it the real way that love is tested. The real way that souls are  tested for that final fateful flame.  That flame that we all rush to like moths... that flame where we all go home... Home, regardless of how it's presented to us. 7 billion lives and they all go to the same place.

And like it or not. It's my job, to dedicate my live and all the energies that I have, that if there is any good in the world that anything I might do be committed. let it be so now...

So, I press on... one step at a time. To determined to never give up. And to in love with my darling Aileen, that of all the promises I made to her on that 4th day before she would leave... This promise has been the hardest of all... to believe in myself enough to know that even though I can't feel her leg next to mine. That she is here with me. And she is in my mornings. She is in my evenings. She is in my dreams. Always there... smiling... telling me... Snap out of it... Remember Mickey... I fell in love with you... don't make me feel like I have bad taste. Because I chose you and you chose me... and the powers gave us that chance. But we chose each other. And I don't think that either of us has rotten taste. Not by a long shot.

We  used to have that conversation all the time. Because I always know when I write good copy. I just never associated it much with me. I never thought I was much good to this world. My brain. Well, know that the world likes my brain... But when I write copy, I just have never really associated it with me... And that's the promise you see...

To believe enough in the human rights argument to finally, after all these years to learn how to believe in me. To believe in me enough so that one day I will find peace and know  that while I by miles could not ever help everyone in the world. I at least did all I could to help some....

And then to c all that good... as I face this, the solitary road ... this spiritual journey I am on... home... home to my darling Aileen...My Leen.

I know I'm tough. I know that I'm often hard and in your face with my writing. I'm truly not an evil person. Never have. Just a bit tortured. That's all. But so what? No big deal... I'll just keep going... sometimes fast. Sometimes slow... but ever onward...

I started this journal entry at 3:30pm today. It's not 11:04pm. And I wrote every single word with my fingers. That's why it took me so long. I had to sort of take lots of breaks. And my hands are swollen. But they'll come down. My arms are a bit swollen at the elbows too. And my spine feels sort of like that great morning when your boss gives you a $5000 bonus check. And as your walking into the bank the bank is robbed, with the robbers running out of the bank and as they run by you they take the check, yelling, hey man  thanks for the tip. Yeah, On those kind of mornings, if you make to noon and you haven't like set fire to the back yard, or run down the street screaming hysterically. You then know that your meds are working just fine. Or you're still asleep.

But I wanted to feel the keys. Okay. I'm a writer.And I wanted to do something sort of special. To "show" you my love. The love that I have for each one of you in this world. Regardless of whether I know you or not. And I've always felt that "work" is "love" made visible...

So, if you ever doubt, when I have fire in my belly and my entries are sort of tormented, that I truly love all of you.... even more than the air I breathe... Then, as I tell my darling Leen all the time...

Watch me... just watch what I do... There be my love...

Now for some aspirin. And under the electric blanket. A cup of milk, a funny movie... and then tomorrow at 4am... I'll get up and hit the ground running all over again. I promised her I would do that. And of all the promises that I made in my life... my promises to my darling Leen come first...

Godspeed my darling Leen. Godspeed...

Godspeed to all of you... if you got anything from what I wrote here tonight... then do this... give your kids and your SO's a hug. Give you Mom and Dad a hug. Celebrate every single day and every single minute... for once they have passed that same minute or hour will never be repeated exactly the same way till the end of time... Celebrate your life... live life... use your life... For life is meant to be lived and used... not abused or wasted. But used and lived...

And if you an help even one person along the way. That's a good thing. too. Because then you are doing what is like a mandate in this remarkable process we call humanity...

Changing the world... one person at a time...

Thanks so much for listening...

(For support and source documentation, and further reading, please see my "See Also:" section below.)

See Also:

The mind is like a book. Opened and much is learned. Closed and nothing is learned. (N. Maschke – 1994)

"THEY CAME FIRST for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.

THEN THEY CAME for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.

THEN THEY CAME for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.

THEN THEY CAME for the Catholics,
and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant.

THEN THEY CAME for me
and by that time no one was left to speak up."

Pastor Martin Niemöller

      Child Poverty Statistics:

    • 25,000 children die each day from poverty
    • 1041 children die every hour due to poverty
    • 17 children die every minute from poverty
    • 750,000 children die every month from poverty
    • 9,000,000 children die every year from poverty

    Child mortality Statistics:

    • 9.2 million children die every year
    • 780,000 children die every month
    • 26,000 children die every day
    • 18 children die every minute

An estimated 9.2 million children under the age of five will die this year – nearly 26,000 per day or 18 every minute. This is greater than the annual number of deaths from 1. AIDS (2 million), malaria (900,000), and tuberculosis (1.5 million) combined. 2. Neonatal disorders, pneumonia and diarrhea are the major causes of under-five mortality.

Globally, 80 percent of all child deaths are due to only a handful of causes: neonatal causes, pneumonia, diarrhea, and malaria. 3. Pneumonia or sepsis, pre-term delivery, and asphyxia at birth are the leading causes of neonatal deaths. Malnutrition is responsible for over a third of child deaths.

From: http://www.globalhealth.org/child_health/child_mortality/

And, according to recent United States statistics, there are approximately 43,000 suicides that take place, in the United States every single year. That would be one suicide taking place, by children as young as 12, or possibly younger, up to our oldest citizens. Approximately every 15 minutes.

Not one single penny that the pro-life movement spends on their so-called pro-life movement goes toward saving any of these “living” children’s lives. Not one single cent. Which means that not one single cent of the so-called pro-life movement is being used to save any of the amazing children and absolutely fantastic women, and men, who are being killed, or suffering horribly, every single minute. so naturally, it becomes impossible to conclude that the pro-life movement is pro-life at all, if they will not even save the lives of living children and men and women. But will always only be concerned with, and define life as the “fetus” only. And THAT’S NOT how their own God Jesus Christ defines life, in their own Bible.

Which means that the pro-life movement is not pro-life at all. Because their money is “not” going to save any living life on this planet. Their money is only going toward forcing women to bear children against their will. And that’s not how their own God, Jesus Christ defines pro-life.

If The Almighty will not allow the smallest sparrow to fall from the sky, why, should we, the creations of that same Almighty, do any less?

incidents that take place every year, are committed by approximately 78% of the population, meaning people who claim to be Christians. (US Religious Demographic Statistics ). And that is something that the Christian conservatives , and those who are Catholics, never seem to want to discuss, and in many, if not most, cases, will lie about. Unless they are forced to do so, and/or tell the truth, in a court of law.


And again, their own God, Jesus Christ says in their own Bible, not to judge anyone, and not to hurt anything that God makes. That’s anything. So, these statistics are really meant to illustrate about being responsible for one’s own choices and actions. That would be, in their own Bible, free-will choices and free-will actions.

For the record, I do not now, nor have I ever hated any human being on earth. I do not hate, regarding my spirituality, and spiritual beliefs, anything that God did make. Meaning that I do not hate the “humanity” that exists within any human being. However, God did not make the personal choices that humans make, regarding how they behave, and/or present themselves, to the world. So if a human being chooses, of their own free will to demonstrate their behavior with racism, bigotry, prejudice, and hatred for other humans, on the basis of their own free will choice as to how they define their spirituality within themselves, that is their own choice. So I do not hate any human being for being that which God did make. I hate only the choices and the manner in which humans have decided to demonstrate their behavior to one another. I do not hate religion. However, I will never give my support to “any” religion, that has ever caused harm to, or killed, a single human being, in any way, as a result of the religion demonstrating, or manifesting it’s presence in the world. If any religion has ever harmed or killed a single human being, I respect the right of all humans to believe what they want in life. I, personally, will under no circumstances give my support for any religion, or theological belief, that has ever harmed or killed even a single human being. This is what I have dedicated my life to as a spiritualist and a pacifist here on earth. So any attempt by anyone to portray me as hating anyone is a lie. Because that is not so. The foregoing clearly shows that I have no hatred for humankind or for any religion.

    ******************************************

    ******************************************

    My Pro-Life Statement

For the record, I am pro-life . I do not support violence against, or the killing of any human being under any circumstances! And the only way that I ever deviate from that stand is that I do not believe that God has ever given any human the right to dictate to any woman how she is to arbitrate her life with the Almighty, and/or God . Therefore, I believe that all women deserve the right to choose for themselves the fate of their own bodies, pursuant to their relationship with the Almighty, and/or God . My position regarding this statement is more fully explained in my article entitled: Second Gear.

    ***********************************************

    The mind is like a book. Opened and much is learned. Closed and nothing is learned. (N. Maschke – 1994)

Personal Further Reading:

My Significant Journal Entries:

  1. My Biographical Profile
  2. Public Declaration
  3. My Complete Medical Record Of My Caregiving For Aileen
  4. Finding Neverland
  5. How Do I love thee. The First Anniversary Of Aileen's Rosebush
  6. My Philosophy of Life
  7. Second Gear, My discussion of my Pro-Life, and Pro-Choice Position
  8. The Time I was hired to photograph and met President-elect Ronald Reagan
  9. My 250 Million Variable Characteristic Hieroglyphic Language
  10. My Global Warming Research
  11. Quantum Mechanics And Newtonian Metaphysics, Originally Dictated On Friday March 19, 2010 (two days before Aileen collapsed and was told she only had 2 months left to live
  12. Pressurized Moments
  13. Religion 101
  14. I Am An Iconoclastic Human Rights Advocate
  15. The Dark Lord
  16. Sand On The Floor
  17. A Human Comedy
  18. The Tortoise And The Hare
  19. Fear: One of Life's Great Motivators
  20. Give Me That Old Time Religion
  21. The Real Explanation of What’s Going On With Japan
  22. The Shadow People
  23. The Music Of The Spheres
  24. The Maschke Dynamic
  25. At Last
  26. Midnight Madness
  27. A Speck Of Dust On A Dirty Beach
  28. Choices of The Heart
  29. Oh There You Are
  30. Finding The Path
  31. Death Be Not Proud
  32. John Denver-The Box
  33. Relevancy
  34. The Environment Of My Mind
  35. The Dented Soul
  36. Talking To The Ghosts In My Heart
  37. A Rumpled And Misunderstood Life
  38. The Metaphysics of Hatred
  39. System Update: The Metaphysics Of Computing
  40. The Letter
  41. Human Rights
  42. Human Rights-An Analysis Part I
  43. Human Rights-An Analysis Part II
  44. Appearances Are Deceiving
  45. Unfinished Business
  46. The Velvet Hammer
  47. Reality Always Wins
  48. Midnight With The Iron Maiden
  49. The Difference Between Love And Hate
  50. System Update: Comprehensive
  51. Rummaging Through An Old Drawer
  52. Tidying Up
  53. Climbing The Mountain
  54. Clear Vision
  55. Dancing In The Backyard With My Weed Wacker
  56. Exercises In Multi-Directional Thinking
  57. Having Dinner At The Gates Of Hell
  58. Assured Distance
  59. The Dignity Of The Human Soul
  60. The Remarkable Thing
  61. Two … Three … One …
  62. Following The Footprints In The Sand
  63. Second Sight
  64. In The Midst Of Darkness A Single Spark Of Light Guides My Way
  65. Battling Demons In The Darkness
  66. Israel Hits Hamas Government Buildings
  67. Shadow Boxing
  68. Looking At Future's Past
  69. Circles Of Synchronicity
  70. Well That Was A Bad Idea

The mind is like a book. Opened and much is learned. Closed and nothing is learned. (N. Maschke – 1994)