For Good Or For Evil

Good and evil, are they opposite sides of the same coin?  Are there twins living inside the human body – the good one and the bad one?  All of us have faced crossroads - having to decide which way to turn can dominate the day.  There is the right and the wrong choice; no one else owns the decision.  Is it really a matter of chance, a flip of a coin that establishes our moral fiber?  The odds on a coin toss are 50/50.  That means fifty percent of the time good triumphs over evil.  Fifty percent of the time evil wins.  However, a coin toss seems to be a bit simplistic.

Thrown into the mix of good and evil is free will.  This adds a third side to the coin – a trinity creating dissension and mayhem at least as often as harmony and prosperity.  Compare this to a pair of dice.  The odds of a three-sided coin are half as diverse as a six sided die.  With sides added to our coin for guilt and greed, we are not too far away from shooting craps here.

The Catholic Church offered absolution for sins committed as long as you confessed your wickedness and were penitent.  For a price a sinner could receive dispensation for a bad decision; such as annulling a marriage.  Through Church largess good was sprinkled amongst all the bad.  Having slammed shut, the gaits to heaven reopened and the Lord on his thrown restored the sanctity of the soul.  It’s amazing what a little good will and pocket change could do for spiritual health back then. The heavens were brought back into balance. Good triumphed and the church got rich.  This was before the age of reason and unfortunately, the church is no longer so powerful.

Now omnipotence belongs to corporations.  The only balance in the universe is their bottom line.  Bad guys hide behind corporate law and they grant themselves dispensation and absolution for bad deeds.  A new ad campaign fixes all.  Corporations buy our politicians, steal our money and destroy what little dignity we have.  They expect us not to notice the hardship corporate policy causes.  Slogans replace human decency and it is very important to their shared image that we be happy in our destitution.  Credit cards keep us in financial slavery but if we are lucky we have a roof over our head.  At least with the Church there was a Hereafter to look forward to.  Our immortal soul was intact.

Could it be that good is only a distant myth? Maybe I’m only seeing the dark side.  Must I look deeper?

Philosophers and gurus say that positive and negative forces are with us always, keeping the universe in balance.  Does this duo really keep order in the universe?  Cataclysmic disruptions of balance occur so often that it has been given names – Incompatibilism, Biological Determinism and Theological Determinism are a few.  Murphy's Law is probably the most pessimistic.  That pesky free will keeps rearing its head.  If right and wrong are polar ends of the same axis then no wonder the world is spinning out of control?  All that free will in the middle makes the earth a volatile place. U.S. politics is a prime example of the imbalance.

Has Washington chosen too many negatives and not enough positives?  Republicans are union busting, cutting taxes to billionaires and destroying everyone's livelihood.  Democrats, even with a president in the white house and control of the senate are powerless to stop the shenanigans of the Far Right.  Where's the balance?  I’m beginning to feel like a punching bag.  Knowing right from wrong is less important in congress than knowing which corporation will give the most money for reelection.  So many wrong choices, how can the tangled mess be resolved.

Many alternatives that feel good are destructive.  Yet, the least attractive opportunity can blossom into something wonderful.  But if one chooses good every time then positives would outweigh the negatives.  That's supposed to bring us closer to God and harmony.  However, there is a quandary.  If we shun the dark for the light then what happens to the delicate balance that dark and light, positive and negative, good and evil produces.  Doesn't that disrupt everything?

Personally I run from good or evil wherever I see them because both scare the hell out of me. If I manage to do something good how can I keep up the good work?  I’m always falling short. Secondly, if I fall into the surly clutches of evil, the dark abyss (so tangible and invisible) seems limitless.  A perpetual fall might be attractive to those who parachute off stationary objects, but for me it is too compromising a proposition.  What to do?

Sometimes I have allowed mediocrity in my life because it is safe.  If I don't move closer to the light I won’t be sliding back into the shadows.  The abyss is farther away if the possibility of a horrible miscalculation is not so likely.  With luck I won’t find myself in a dark corner.  Perhaps this is faulty logic.

If by seeking the light and only the light, will there be a new balance or some fresh harmony that replaces positives and negatives? If truth reveals itself beyond the disinformation distributed everywhere the eye rests – what happens to all that energy put forth that is purposefully wrong?

Standing in the dark may force us to realize that there has to be something better than groping around blindly.  The world is visible in the light – you can see what you're eating. You can step around the potholes.  

Maybe it's not so important to know the mechanics of Heaven and Earth.  Let's make the best of ignorance and have a little faith.  But if that is too difficult keep your nose to the wind and move onward through the fog.

Snores Of Desire

There was a knock on the glass of the automatic sliding door.  I just locked it because 11pm had arrived and it was time to secure the building.  The man lifted the after-hours phone and spoke into it.  “Let me in, I’m in 222.  I don't have my card key.”  A push of a button opened the door.  Walking in and falling on the chair at the lobby computer he began delving into the web.  I went about my business. 

Five minutes later room 222 was in front of me.  “Hi, I’m Lenny.  Are there no escort services in Sedona?”

"There aren't," I said. 

"What kind of town is this," he blubbered.  Lenny in room 222 headed down the hallway.

"This is a small town, Flagstaff is your best bet," I spoke to his back.

"That's too far away," he shouted from down the hall.  He was horny but not that horny.

A few minutes later Lenny returned with a piece of paper in his hand.  Hovering over the lobby phone he picked up the receiver.  "Can I dial out with this phone," he looked inquisitively at me.

"Only if it is a local call," said I.  Evidently room 222 had found a number to an escort service.

Lenny sat down to dial the number to a rendezvous that would ease his throbbing need.  Listening to the beeps, I could hear the tone of six digits dialed but not the final seventh.  I waited a while longer but still did not hear the tone.  Had 222 reconsidered?  No?  The would-be joy house attendee began snoring.  The bugger had fallen asleep in the middle of dialing the number to the gentleman's retreat.   Lenny hit the hay before he got a chance to hit the sack with a “sporting” lady.  He was snoring with the phone receiver in his ear, the paper with the phone number resting on his lap and his finger touching but not pressing that all important last digit to the phone that belonged to the escort service.

I waited a moment; he was snoring so loud I was sure he would wake himself up.  No, this ole boy was a heavy sleeper.  Lenny’s breath kept buzzing but that last digit would not be beeping.  So Lenny sat there, hibernating for hours.

Two a.m. gonged on the lobby clock, and then the phone rang.  “Hotel,” I spoke softly.

“Hello, I would like to rent a room for an hour.  I have an appointment with Lenny Baird in room 222.”  The woman spoke calmly and with confidence. 

“Rooms are rented by the day not the hour,” said I.

“Well, I’m Lenny’s escort for the night.  You sure I can’t have a room for an hour?”  She was pleading.  Hmm, looks like Lenny made a call from his room.  We may only have reached the midpoint of this sordid tale of Lenny’s lost lust.

“This isn’t a flop house, lady," I responded.  Besides, your appointment is snoring in a lobby chair and he already has a room.”

“I can wake him.”

“Not tonight.” I hung up on the bimbo.

For five hours Lenny kept buzzing with each breath.  Six o'clock rolled around and he was still snoozing with the phone at his ear.  I hoped his dreams were slaking the sexual tension.  Please, may the dreams not be too gratifying.  No bodily fluids soiling the cushion upon which Lenny reposed, thank you.

Finally, people were walking into the lobby for the gratis breakfast.  A little girl walked by the hulk of room 222, still snoring.  She giggled softly and that woke Lenny.  He struggled to his feet, staggering to the corner of the lobby between the sliding door and the entrance to the stairs.

The same little girl squealed, “Daddy, that man is taking his clothes off!”  Every head having breakfast turned to look at Lenny.

Lenny had pulled his t-shirt over his head and was naked from the waist up.  There seemed to be a problem with his workout shorts.  They had fallen off his hips and hung at his knees.  Colorful briefs were the only things keeping those of us in the lobby from knowing Lenny in a biblical way.  More than little girls were squealing now, but Lenny seemed incapable of noticing.  Room 222 caught his shorts and pulled them up to parts north, clutching them with his left fist.  The door to the stairs seemed to beckon him but he reconsidered.  Choosing to stumble across the lobby Lenny banged into furniture and narrowly fell on an elderly woman. 

Everyone stared at Lenny and made way for the slightly comatosed zombie.  He leaned over the counter where the cereal was served, perhaps willing himself back into his body (I hoped).  The eyes were open but I don’t think he could see.  Anyway, he took three steps to the juice dispenser and placed a cup, down-side-up, under the spigot.  I caught him just before he pushed the button to unleash the flow. 

“Partner, I think your cup is in a compromising position.”  I turned it top-side-up.  Lenny dropped his shirt over an omelet on someones plate and touched the button to get his juice.

Room 222 exited the breakfast area and disappeared down the hall with a cup in hand and his shirt cast over his shoulder.  No one checked his progress but in the breakfast area there was a prayer circle organized.  Voices in unison asked the Divine to help Lenny find his room and the rest of his clothing.  I just hoped he wasn’t prostrate on the hall floor with another snooze on.

An Encounter With Mr. Thinker

Early one balmy summer's morning I was driving home from my girlfriend's house.  Nearing my parents abode, the streets were getting very dark.  The neighborhoods in this part of Aldine (a suburb of Houston) have no street lights.   I took a right turn off of Lilja and was making my way down Aldine Mail Route.   There was a brilliant light behind some construction on my left; very unusual.  This light suddenly jumped above the trees.   It was an atypical air craft; I assumed it was military, there were no markings on it.  The lights were fulgent amidst the pitch black backdrop of 2am.  Built on a rectangular platform, a bright white dome was positioned in the middle.  Two gold triangles were drenched in light at either end of the rhombus.   A red blinking light was attached to the top of the dome, like the kind on the wing tips of conventional aircraft.  

There are lots of military in this part of Texas.  Ellington Air Force base and Johnson Space Center are very close.  This seemed to be a military conveyance.

The craft was now directly above the street in front of me and moving slowly to my right.  This is when I figured out it was not military.  The occupant inside the UFO began to "think" at me.  By the demeanor of his thoughts I gathered he wasn't happy that I was witnessing his movements.  Evidently there were mechanical problems that forced him down.  In his thoughts to me was good advice - don't get out of the vehicle and don't come any closer.  I decided to heed both suggestions and stopped my little car in the middle of the road with the engine idling.

Whoever or whatever was operating this vehicle happened to be a cool flier.   Mr. Thinker, the pilot, was moving away from both large airports in the Houston area and below their radar.   Intercontinental was twelve miles northeast of my position and Hobby Airport was a good deal southeast.  I turned right on my parent's cul de sac, behind Mr. Thinker who was heading south southwest just over the tree tops.  I watched the craft pass above the roof of my parents house and I slowly turned into the driveway.   I got out and stood there watching the bright lights in the dark sky slowly gain altitude.

Crude rendering of Mr. Thinker's craft. 

 

The craft passed through the beam of a carbon arc searchlight that was part of a promotion for a newly opened water park five miles away.  Very gradually the blinking light on top of the dome of this aircraft faded away in the distance.

I suppose I should have called the airports and asked if they had seen anything on their radars.  Mr. Thinker was flying so low I knew they would have seen nothing unusual.  I could have called the military bases in the area, but I didn't.  It was just one of those encounters.  I guess I was grateful that whoever was in that machine was not interested in me.  He wanted to be on his way and I stumbled upon his little secret.  Was he from some other part of the universe?  I will never know.  The power of his thoughts made me certain that he wasn't from Texas.  They pressed against my chest as if he were pushing me away with his hand.

Seven Years in Sedona

I have lived seven years in the red rocks of Arizona.  More accurately I (my wife and I) have worked seven years in Sedona.  The hospitality industry is just about the only industry in town, except for real estate.  I have been asked a few times what it's like to live in this area.  My answer always is, "This place is great, if you have money."  Ten dollar an hour jobs in hotels or resorts don't make the nut and food prices can be extreme.  Some items are double in price compared to other parts of the country.

Sedona is a high point in the upper Sonoran Desert.  Pressed against the base of the Mogollon Rim the town is connected to Flagstaff by Oak Creek Canyon.  Strong winds and cold air funnel down the canyon from the San Francisco Peaks.

In Woo-Woo land Sedona is like Mecca.  There are vortexes, sweat lodges, psychics and massage therapists.  A few people still walk down the street in white robes and beads pushed up their derrieres (don't ask). 

Time-share has a large presence in Sedona. There is money to be made and high pressure salesmen to destroy the ambiance of this beautiful burg.  I have it in good stead that Kachina spirits stand over 89A and block all the bad energies billowing from timeshare sales rooms. 

The very wealthy of Sedona live in privilege and seclusion behind gates and the red rocks.  Celebrities such as Sharon Stone and Steven Seagal have homes here.  The Hollywood presence here is always socializing for some important cause.  The last one showing up in the Red Rock News was Jane Seymour mixing promotion for her Camp Soaring Eagle (for children with serious illnesses)with Open Heart Designs at Kay Jewelry.

Above all Sedona is the red rocks.  Some have recognizable shapes like Snoopy rock, Elephant rock, and Cathedral rock.  (There is probably no need to mention the rock shaped like a dildo.)  The topography here inspired Walt Disney to fashion parts of his theme parks as well as segments of his animated features in the image of the red rocks.

The word “Sedona” is not a Spanish term but the name of a woman.  Sedona Schnebly was the wife of the first post master in the region. 

We moved here from Madison, Wisconsin after an illness forced us to seek a warm, dry climate for our daughter.  The big question was what were we going to do after our arrival?  The tentative answer was work for a time-share resort; like everyone else. 

Karin and I both worked as off property concierges (OPC's) which meant we manned booths located throughout Sedona.  Ads stenciled on the booths offered free maps and information.  It was our job to coerce visitors into taking a tour and a sales pitch from a timeshare property.  Personally it was an intense learning situation.  For this job to be profitable a prospective tourist has to be entertained.  Everything must sparkle, especially me.  So it was jokes and information, smiles and rapport.  Most important one has to persist.    

We started in the hospitality industry and unfortunately we are still struggling there.  At least I am.  The hospitality industry can be inhospitable to the people it depends upon for day to day operation.  Management is often coarse and domineering.  Corporations want to make money and they want to pay employees as little as possible in that pursuit. 

Karin lost her job in the great recession of 2008.  She managed to acquire a Pell Grant and went to film school on the government dime while collecting unemployment.  Now great energy is being poured into building a film production company.  We have award winning scripts but no money to produce them.  So we buy lottery tickets and pitch ideas to anyone who will listen.  There has to be money and interest out there somewhere.

I try to stand next to wealthy people in their expensive cars at local music festivals and air shows.  I'm hoping their money will rub off on me.  I haven't seen Nicolas Cage yet.  He lives here and is known to frequent grocery stores in the middle of the night.  Sometime soon I hope to see him while prowling Safeway.  When I do I'm going to give him a pitch and a treatment. 

Until then send us some good thoughts and money vibes if you can spare any.  We're getting old and tired, but miracles happen.

The Solar Eclipse

There is a partial eclipse of the sun today starting at 7:53 UTC.  Anyone on a boat in the Indian Ocean just above Antarctica will be able to see it.  That's the trouble with eclipses; they are always where I am not.  I've seen a partial (very partial) eclipse a few times but never anything near a total eclipse.  The irony is there are two total eclipses every year.  I must have total eclipse karma.  Not good karma or maybe I'm just not trying.

Spiritually speaking, people involved in the occult believe it is not important to be directly in the shadow of the eclipse to experience its energy.  Anyone on the planet can feel the shift in the earth's force.  That may be, but I still feel like the sun has been throwing knuckle balls at me.  In American baseball the pitcher throws a knuckle ball by gripping it with the tips of his fingers.  Tossed in this manner the ball has very little spin which creates unpredictable movement.  No one; the pitcher, the catcher and especially the batter have a clue where in the strike zone the ball will end up (if at all).  I think the sun is a knuckle ball pitcher.  The sun has two total eclipses a year with numerous partial eclipses thrown randomly to hit wherever they please.  For sure it is always where I am not – at least that’s the way it feels.  I know; it has to do with the movement of the sun, the moon and the earth in their orbits.  It’s all very predictable for some people.

An eclipse occurs when the new moon moves between the sun and the earth. At some point on the earth the moon casts a shadow and the sun disappears – voila, an eclipse.  Day becomes night.  Birds fly in circles, lost without the fiery orb.

The Romans, especially their emperors, were afraid of solar eclipses.  Perhaps they had good reason.  Julius Caesar was murdered after a solar eclipse.  Caesar Augustus also died after a solar eclipse. 

Warring armies (the Medians and Lydians) near the Halys River in Turkey (585 BC) laid down their weapons and made peace when a solar eclipse occurred during battle.  The lesson here is the world needs an eclipse machine.  What a great secret weapon.  Wherever unrest occurs, break out the “eclipser” and end the war.  Developing such a machine would certainly put someone in line for the Nobel Peace Prize.  In fact I'm researching a patent on such a device.  It could be as simple as putting a huge umbrella over the entire battlefield with a large tag identifying it as an eclipse.  Warriors can be gullible.

When the moon is eclipsing the sun beware of the Allais effect.  Eclipses may disturb the gravity around the motion of a pendulum.  The theory behind the effect was developed by Maurice Allais who was a French polymath.  So watch out for your grandfather clock during the next eclipse.  It might experience an "anomalous gravitational effect," causing the pendulum to crash through the back of the clock and into a moody, profane dimension.  It can only be overcome by injecting massive amounts of lithium into Maurice Allais combined with a mild convulsive therapy.  Lobotomies have been ruled out because pendulums don't have brains.

The eclipse must be getting close.  I'm feeling frustrated and left out.  Not again!?  My watch is set to UTC time.  It reads 07:53 UTC.  The eclipse must be starting.  I'm looking up at the sun and it is intact.  There is no dark semicircle encroaching slowly over the solar disk.  Maybe it's my genius always to know intuitively where the eclipse is not.  Yes, I must be very smart.

My luck might change when August 21, 2017 comes around.  A total eclipse is going to take place smack dab in the middle of the U.S. Heartland. Southern Illinois and Missouri will see it for sure.  I have plans to be there.