Alexander K. Rai, MSMA

Posts Tagged ‘James Howard Kunstler’

The Past is Beneath “Criticism” ; The ‘Optimal Future’ is a Function of Probability, and a Fortune of a Sincere Continuuity arising from Purer Premises of the Moment.

In Uncategorized on September 1, 2009 at 9:08 am

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Man’s relationship with time is in the most literary sense of the term : ‘Skin Deep’.

For Time, wrinkles up, it seems on the body of Man, a reducing force, a keeper of accounts, a gushing, senseless, voice, capable of unconditionally impressing on the Skin of Man the irrevocable function of his experiences : Decay.

But what Is Time? What Is Man? And what is Superficial, and What is Not ? The statements above risk sounding foolish and appear as indictments, if these Vital Premises are not exposed of their conjurations. To Do So necessitates a Study of Relationships, rather than an examination in parts. How they relate and feel and form, rather than how they are divided from one another. More the Appreciation, and the less the mechanics ensures and insures a more Sublime and indeed, Complete Understanding – much as an analyses of cones and heights and cylinders, have never contributed on those mere grounds – to a Musician’s capacity to play the Organ better than he would not knowing its configured — one might say — ‘Superficial’ —  intricacies.

The reason the premise of “Man versus Time” is in a holistic and observable sense, insofar as it is an ‘Objective Phenomena’, is technically superficial is on account of the fact, nothing literally or otherwise, – could be more profound to Man, than Man’s Relationship With Himself.

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Just as the Less is not More, Man is not the Time he Spends. That Statement does not require an added study of ‘Expenditures and Balance Sheets’ to be any more Qualified than they appear in that Self-Evident Form above in the allegory. In fact, to present it in any other way would be a Nuisance to the Reader and an insult to his Consciousness.

But is the term ‘Superficial’ an Insult?

When Man relates beyond the Skin, and beyond “prophesies” of appearances, and brush strokes of “modern” Art, – he is electing to leapfrog his rudimentary and standard functions, if only by beginning to not take those “mere” functions for Granted.

Gratitude proves to be a Science to a Man who is capable and powerful enough to be a witness to the relationship he shares with himself. The deeper he enters into his own orifices of his Self-Notion, nothing seems trivial, accidental, or Decadent. That is as much a Fact, as it is a fact, Global Banking has reticulated into utter Fraudulence, and Religion has dealt more degradation, damage, and ruin on Man ( Including the “Religion of Freethinkers” ) – than the Silent and Observable Natural and Quantum Forces as are easily afforded to those that Listen Better and more Wholly than they Speak. Not an Easy Task.

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Is the experience of Ease then related to the differentiation of the Superficial and the Profound?

It is Not Easy to Unite with One’s own Self. Yet, it is not Difficult to Desire It when clearly, it is an experience capable of unconditionally impressing on the Spirit/Substance of Man, rather than Skin, - the irrevocable function of his Eternal Form – the very ‘Idea of Man’ being that form – inseparable from what He Is at the paramount moment. Therein, no Decay, but a Great, unsullied, and transcendental propensity is discoverable, notable, and construable – and the Author would hypothesize, can even be granted Construction in the ‘Grand Scheme of Things’.

How then are Ease and Difficulty Differentiated, if they are both expressions of the Mind?


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The Superficial Man – One who dwells on the Skin, however, blames. In Christian allegory, he is like the Character Job : Given to him are purely arbitrary passions of an argument – and each passion, its own Principle, and its own Will. If he should dwell on the Skin, he finds blemishes, sores, holes – the whole tapestry of physical pain and afflictions are transcribed on his premises.  This is what he draws out and regards as the “Whole Past” – never mind, that had he not the surface of skin, as he has in Time the assistance of the surface of that Tool ‘Memory’, which alone empowers the Seeker to ask whichsoever inquiry that bodes and bears in his curiosity;  how come would he have Gained the Profound Opportunity of Criticism?

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The Superficial Man continues to confuse Means with Ends at no great advantage! Regarding “The Flaws of Histories”, – Castigating and dispatching his dubious “Venom” to the Seeds of Past, ‘As If’ it Still Applies, he empowers that which he criticizes- namely his own Actual Decay/Decadence, – failing to apprehend with either his Soul or his Intellect – that the premises of ‘Past’, ‘Present’ and ‘Future’ are cursory habits of Consciousness – nuanced particles of Man’s own Capacity to Be, or to Become.

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The Man who freely Wills a Vision, regardless of mere habits and costumes, while liberally interpreting the Useful aspects Truthfully from the ‘Past’, gives notable credence to a Present and Gratitude to those that strived afore him, and enters into his own futurized Vehicle and transmits himself therein through the Same. Indeed, Time as a function of the Conscious Mind is it not – much like Skin – a Vehicle? A ‘Foe-Friend’ – in the sense, it may appear a combustible vehicle, requiring maintenance, attention, — A Source of Energy, ultimately, that could be termed But the ‘Soul’ or to those of the least metaphysical “bent” – the ‘Prime Substance’. The Question of Existence rests on that Will – that Energetic Animus that supplies the Q     uest. To ameliorate the conditions within one’s own Person and the conditions and circumstances of all others go hand in hand, undistinguished, for one’s own Person Chooses It. And to enliven the Quest, one must summon Will and Vivacity – as Such.

Difficulty is the highest Ease, and the Highest Ease is always Difficult!

( Therein ) The Profound Man – One who dwells on Substance, and shuns hypocrisy and vagaries of illogic, un-reason, and tiresome ineptitude, and even avoids the accumulated lives of the illogic, un-reason, ineptitudes, torpitudes of others more Superificial than He, — Avoids all principles that detract from Candidness, and Dwells on the conditions and Premises of his highest Substantive Self – and in this regard, initiating himself through his 1) Mind – Reason  2 ) Body – Passions    3 ) Soul – Prime Substance , such that the Unity created by the Three are Greater than even the Whole. And in that there is contained – the Grammar – the Principle – the Mysteries of Man.

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In the Year Two Thousand and Nine, as pronounced by the Christian Logbook and interpretation of Time, – it appears, there is a great deal of chaos, suffrage, blame, and anger arising out of Man. Everyone is at Blame, but not He. Every Foreign Element to his Consciousness is depraved and not He. The Justice is Unjust, but he presumes he is himself Just in stating that Concept.

But the Angry Man, the Chaotic, and the Irascible. Who is that Man? Is he a Superficial Man? Or is he Man Profound? Moreover, if he is a Superficial Man, will he learn Gratitude, so that his depth may increase towards himself, and so that he comes closer in proximity to the Man Profound? And per the Man Profound, in reaching the higher orifices of his awareness – Will he find it Satisfactory to be overwhelmed by the deplorable “Noise” – the noisy and pitiful vagaries of the Superficial Man, whom he cannot escape within or outside himself, so long as the Man Profound is Obliged to admit to his Humanity, which he Must at all times, unless he departs from its premise, – What of him? Perhaps, it is Love?

Is there an allegorical inflection that is perceptible? ‘Lion and Sheep drinking from the same Pond’ is a beautiful phrase – one that easily comes to the author’s mind when he raises up his eyes to the stars, probing for nebulous Relevance to Clarify itself. Is that not which some call ‘Kingdom of Heaven on Earth’ — That is a Space of such Profound Mutual Understanding and Investment, that it mutually assures Evolution, rather than “Cold War like Mutually Assured Destruction”?

An Investment that leaves both parties Wealthier than they were before and Conscious of the Fact, – if they prove Inevitable in their Reason, their Passions guided by Substance, and their Substance guided by the Whole than is greater than the Sum of the Parts?

The Whole may just be what is contained in the word ‘Love’.

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“Amor Omnia Vincit”- as a Spanish friend of mine has been invoking of late with a Steady frequency. Meaning, ‘Love Conquers All’.

Going beyond Superficialities, and giving a Living Flame to Profundity, will be tantamount to transcribe the Equinoxes and Solstices of what is meant by that one word.

Love.

. . .

Alexander K. Rai, MSMA is the author of ‘Reader’s Indigest’. He ( personally ) believes in 2009, the most important aspect of existence is to readily admit one’s Humanity, so long as one is complicit in the Human Nature . Adding moreover that, while it is ‘Human to Err’, to ‘Err Honestly, is to find Truth’. Believing in his own Humanity, while at the same time, regarding the Whole that is more than the Collection of Parts, as the premise of what some may call the basis of his “Personal Faith”, he is giddy, that at any given time he is impersonating Only Himself, and all that is done by  his Humanity, is easily Surpassed by the volition of the Same, and what is prevented, is prevented by the same. The Author asides from being a ‘Real Person’  may in that vein, be also for the disinterested Reader, be a purely ‘Symbolic Speculation’, and shall not be disserved from the profit of Gainful Readership, whatsoever. The Author, therein, as Stated, does not take Credit for either Comprehension or Incomprehension of any of his Creative Works, offered in Honor of him Self and Despite Himself, freely to all that may elect to invest their ‘Time’ – and thereby moisten a bit of their Skin, in the Author’s peculiar unsolicited brand of mental – perhaps – also Spiritual – moisturizer.  The Photography Displayed in this Journal are not the Author’s, but rather transcriptions of images of Vintage Books, whose creative attributions are too many, too vague, or both – To List.

In Admiration of my Autobiographer : A Mister Benjamin Maddisson of Southern New Jersey – The Diligent Suburbanite of the Americas of Our Times.

In Uncategorized on August 7, 2009 at 8:46 pm


You’re obliged to pretend respect for people and institutions you think absurd. You live attached in a cowardly fashion to moral and social conventions you despise, condemn, and know lack all foundation. It is that permanent contradiction between your ideas and desires and all the dead formalities and vain pretenses of your civilization which makes you sad, troubled and unbalanced. In that intolerable conflict you lose all joy of life and all feeling of personality, because at every moment they suppress and restrain and check the free play of your powers. That’s the poisoned and mortal wound of the civilized world. Octave Mirbeau, Torture Garden, “The Mission,” Chapter 8


As Spring enters robustly, like a gale filled with fragrance, a’tousled with the flung hair of amour, -that is the Spiritual “Hair” rather than the Physical, it is tyme to begin to make a List of Gratitude.

To this end, comes to mind, a young man, from The State of New Jersey (more on my gratitude to the State, later-first the youth concerned!). His name is Benjamin Maddison, a Student of Rutger’s University, last I ‘checked’ studying History and Theology.

Mr. Maddison is a man of exceptional gifts, as any that knew him, as I did, in German Class as ‘coached’ by Frau Llewellyn, and in some other smattering of more mindless classes, than less, I found as a diminutive and decidedly strange colleague to Mr. Maddison, particularly his guffaws to be most instructive.
They were guffaws that would burst out with its own ring of boister, availing one to the notion of a resident personality seeking exposure to a joyful, robust, dionyssian Spirit. That of a man who loves his barrel- be it at the Boston Party of Tea and Tar and Feather, or even the other genus of barrel in which only Irish ale is contained.

Though I never examined deep into his eyes, his mischief was known to be contagious, his use of handkerchiefs common, his habits strangely rounded, but pleasantly so. And of course the guffaw – a transcendental belch of the Inner Spirit.
He found it amusing when the young and curvaceous madamme Cohen and Mr. Andrew sitting betwixt myself, would flirtatiously engage each other under that fine and wonderfully thoughtful, considerate, and noble spirited woman, Frau Llewellyn.
‘Frau’ was a miraculous culmination of Catholic principles and decidedly more Unitarian Synthesis. She was always found to be reasonable, and in her manners she expressed the best essence of Christianity-always by deed, preaching only the various varieties of datives and et cetera- distinctions of German grammar, presently oft in an Un-German way.

While I took –and liberally made use of this classroom opportunity, to draw various maps, cartoons, designs, and patterns and helices- many of Elves, and also practiced the Elven languages and Runes, much so inspired by Mr. Tolkien, reading the volume (unsubscribed by the “High” School) called ‘English and How It Got That Away’, whilst eating and slowly synthesizing through that orifice called my mouth, trucculations of sensations caused by my tastebuds in connotation to the expression contained within sugary and salty things to match the inner essences of my thought, Mr. Andrew and madamme Cohen, toyed with each other’s navels and close proximal venues of reproductive appendages in the dilly-dallying caress of fond and purposive, open and exerted youthful Love. Frau Llewellyn condescended with a tolerance that fluctuated between bemusement and outrage.

The guffaws of Mr. Maddison, always inclined on the “underbelly of the puns” provoked, titillated, and never bored the quiet and mild-mannered Mr. Himmel, the son of the Chief of Township Police, who carried always the mien of an Ethical Protestant.

Mister Maddison, who would later go on to write Coffee Shop Plays about desire and heartbreak, serenading the heart of an anonymous cooing maiden, loud in his Guffaw, and quick to discover contradictions, always liked to tease, and for whatever was contained within the bounds of his character, there was always plenty of Pop Corn and Soda Pop to unbind it. He studied with great care the distinctions of German Grammar, – with a sort of inclined virtue as that found in the attics of Rutgers’ Skull and Cap, brushing up on impressive facts, studying the canonical relevance of farting as a “ means to an end” , he visited Coffee Shops of a local variety, in the evenings of his commute overlooking the industrialized Schuylkill River, – a young man who guffawed, aged like Jacob before his time, ( or so the Bible says ), – he shifted uneasily between theology and autobiography.

My Gratitude, for he wrote mine ( autobiography ) on the Internet, in pencil, paper, pixel, and pen, with multiple cases of Pop Corn Provincialism and Nominative, Imaginative, Un-Grammatical Aphorisms, moved by the fantasies of a history major and blur of a jilted romance suburban poet, listening to Indie Tunes, he extolled his own examples after my borrowed name, and thunderstrokes of theological assertions, having scripted a few lines of autobiography, as my modest Self, he gained a poetic fame.

Kudos Mister Maddisson, for I Believe an Autobiography by any other name, would still be Just ( As ) Ben.


You can’t make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you’re doing is recording it.
Art Buchwald .

. . .

On a Spring of 2008. Retrospections in Suburbia of East Coast. Alexander K. Rai honoring the ghosts of Eastern Seaboard Highschool in a Spirit of Gratitude Divine and a Feeling of the Light.

Honoring Reflections by References of others :

(1) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69zybL7cSPA
(2) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZbKHDPPrrc
(3) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIjftymU0bk
(4) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ciFTP_KRy4
(5) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxgZcMGmkkI
(6) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F4WUsr689Y4
(7) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1ZeXnmDZMQ

.  .  .

Alexander K. Rai, MSMA is Serial Entrepreneur and American Constitutionalist and a Fond Heart to Classical Traditions. He discovered at an early age, that Grace comes only buoyed by antagonism, as Light comes after braving darkness. The State of New Jersey conceded its defeat in a famous and record setting trial where Constitutional Principles browbeat State Corruption now no longer a Public Secret in 2009, – when Alexander K. Rai prevailed in a Famous Case against fraudulent and false indictment, setting new grounds for Liberty in the State of New Jersey. The Case was precipitated by antagonism Alexander found it a privilege to absorb with Faith from an oppressive, concrete, and xenophobic, anti-Values suburbia, that found Alexander’s aspirations to transform and guide his native Township towards true Self Appreciation and Empowerment through the Education and Benefit of the Gifted Youth and Green Economics and Classical Standards, “funny smelling and foreign”, subjecting the former to deprecations, witch-hunts, and an attempt to taxidermy and crucify a Striving and Justice Loving Individual, by those acquiscient to a sense of stolid privilege protected by “uncontested norms”. ‘MSMA’ stands for ‘Member to A Society of Mutual Admiration’, a Degree Alexander has bestowed on himself as well as others, Internationally, Reciprocally since he graduated from High School in early 2000′s.  He has been listed in 2009 ‘Marquis’ Who’s Who in America’ and cited in Wall Street Journal ( for Non-Profit Works ), and has started numerous companies.

Additional References :

( 1 ) http://www.thesopranostate.com/

( 2 ) http://www.geniusdenied.com/

( 3 ) http://www.reuters.com/article/newsOne/idUSTRE56M3QU20090723

( 4 ) http://www.sparta.markoulakispublications.org.uk/index.php?id=77

( 5 ) http://www.outsidethebeltway.com/archives/the_future_of_suburbia/

The Light of Hahnemann .

In Uncategorized on August 7, 2009 at 8:04 pm

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“My sense of duty would not easily allow me to treat the unknown pathological state of my suffering brethren with these unknown medicines. The thought of becoming in this way a murderer or malefactor towards the life of my fellow human beings was most terrible to me, so terrible and disturbing that I wholly gave up my practice in the first years of my married life and occupied myself solely with chemistry and writing.”


  • Samuel Hahnemann

( 1 ) http://www.reuters.com/article/pressRelease/idUS182590+15-Jan-2009+PRN20090115

( 2 ) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZmV8b1wr10

( 3 ) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZjlazugP44

( 4 ) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8IozVfph7I

( 5 ) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NwfGA4cxJQ

.    .    .

Imagining A Natural Hierarchy of Values.

In Americas Indigest, Ecologie Indigest, Economie Indigest, Geo-Locale Indigest, Philosophie Indigest on July 19, 2009 at 2:22 pm

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Chapter 1 : Sacrilege as Entertainment – Or “Russian Mail Order Brides” – Or ‘Goring of the Critic’ – Or  . . . ( dot com )

“What is the problem with Modernity?”

Is the cool and voluntary public criticism of  the vacuum-like, holotropic emptiness of looming buildings screeching upwards like the exclamation marks on the scrawled out thesis paper of the caffeine indoctrinated concoctioner of complex financial instruments; — too  great a discouragement to his “freedom of speech” ?

The clauses and by-clauses that differentiate speech from effort – pointing out with fingers lifted with a well-meaning goodwill – in the pointing direction of suggesting the marked distinctions to be made between Wisdom and Intellection the same as between Speaking and Doing,-  a tad disheartening to She who is an avowed moderniste?

Do contemplations of Scope and Scale, the Method and the Man, the Cause and Effect, – On fruitful love of foundations, and objections to the fruitless, banal, vapid, and inessential breathe an inadvertent  automatic act of antagonism in face of the one Sneezing with the greatest whimper while leaning on the sides of the gasoline four wheeler with the greatest bang – just by the happenstance of co-existence?

Indeed, it appears that they do – all of these – do exactly as premised – bringing to the surface without any concession the all luminous answer. Answer, of course, to the Question “What is the problem with Modernity” –  In the neat, unfolding, order of the questions, the neat order of answers offer a spontaneous and immediate damnation,- an instant transfiguration – when those that regard transcendental balance, natural truths, and fertility of hummus as sacred, in a discussion of Modernity, with those that swear by principles of the modern order of things in all its quantitative categories  all arising potentiality of a two-way conversation are done away with by the latter – for,  no where are the terms “screeching”, “indoctrination”, “discouragement”, “antagonism”, “disheartening”, “sneezing” and “whimper”, more immediate in assaulting the senses-extraordinaire with their commentaries presented in the form of neat stacks of inter-copulated sagging of neon-colors; — than in the form of the frenzies  and forays, and hectic assays of corrugated hard-boiled surfaces of fist-flattened world order edifices, a hunch or a stoop here and there casting a staunch frown, with an illicit and odious gastric look about it — and a whole pantheon of holes carved in the black heart of concrete-  widely indoctrinated into gullible consciousness of the multitudes to forcefully symbolize an absolute archetypical representation and diktat of  what was once regarded and understood by the term “windows”.

Chapter 2 :  The Scythe. The Rape. The Insolence : “What does Ourobouros eat for breakfast, mom?”

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Indeed, in the face of a scythe like perdition upon the planetary resources, with trees and rubber being  flattened into paper and tire in an era of bad writing and the digital revolution, – where mortar and cement do not curb the absolute contempt towards mountains and brooks – to accommodate new hotels and grandiose ski-rinks –  no concessions wheresoever is permeable to the natural.

Thus it is that a profligate bevy of the un-nature, massing, hoarding, belching, and rallying, and commandeering the most downright internal element of natural refuge in man , down to the solaceless, irradiated entrails, foregoing all sweetness – or even neutrality in regards of the senses, with a contempting  malice and coldness, that only the concrete in the street can assuage, commiserate, or reconcile, by the virtue of its flat emotionless blackness – it lays abundant, self-evident, conspicuous retorting like a snide and insipid cartoon : “Indeed, what is the problem with Modernity.”

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James Howard Kunstler has finally spoken to the serpentine highway. He has reticulated outwards from his armchair by the use of his two grips, rising out of as one cast outwards from some deep breath of inner fire-side chat after some long and necessary condition of infirmity, – James Howard stood up with a spine erect, and gazed Sensibly into the outdoors with a connoisseur’s resolve, and decided to take a Stroll on behalf of the Americas – and as he slides his warming toes into the walking ricotta cheese colored Summer sandals – he feels the despair of the Taiwanese entering him through the crack of his toenails.

Chapter 3 : The Homo Economicus and his Tryst  and Triumph ( with the Armchair) .

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Harnessed forward by a new will to Breathe Life, as half-fumbling, yet determined, he reaches for the walking staff – he feels in his musculature the plight of half of the purloined sixteen hour stitchcraft of one half of the Penang Peninsula ; fastening his tie into a loose and disambiguous knot, – he may just as well sense the asphyxiation of Xi-Ching, reaching for the impalpableTao.

He feels so prodigious that, nearly a venerable septuagenarian from a venerable Baltimore, Maryland- he could find himself serenading  Mulan from the open hatch of a time-traveling Messerschmitt, while gunning down the mercenaries of the evil red dragon.

Ah! The dear man! Stare at him! Leaving, frolicking out, into his green lawn, the surface skin of his varicose veins groping for the Soil of Providence itches centimeter by centimeter – doused by silent protocols of paid for pesticides, irrigated by the hissing nozzles of a gurgling water making a fuss about nothing and dripping into an acre of Baltimore – where Pumpkins will not grow this Halloween, but yet the queer effect of this puerile charm of  water mechanics would be just as morose – in the event of a Martial Law in the District of Columbia later in the year.

Moderne5James Howard Kunstler – stares with a forlorn and  twitching despair into the blues of the skies, clouds sloping gently on the knolls of firmaments, – the heavy fog stream of the chemtrail  pathway is reminiscent of the propeller airplanes every child in the world had wanted to fly at the age of Seven– and every child in wanting it had imagined the cinematic American Dream as produced by Walt Disney, Incorporated.

As he stares ( into the great abyss of Two Thousand and Nine ) – James Howard urinates into his lawn – a clear stream of rivulets, cascading outwards like a revolution of quantum, newly christened, fractals, unto a rose undershrub on his “plot” like a torrent written about in one of Pearl S. Buck’s novels about the Chinese Boxer Uprising.

Chapter 4 : The Homo Aquarius : He Lets the Water Loose .

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As such, James Howard Kunstler is heroic, new, – and unknown to his countrymen. He thinks, letting out the water that had bottled up in him for so long like a dead sea crying in the wilderness, – a spokesperson appearance at “Technology, Entertainment, Design (TED)” in Silicon Valley, was the closest he would in this modern life come to a resolution with his birthright name – ‘Kunstler’ – ‘Craftsman’ – or more allegorically interpreted ‘Hierophant – Defender of Eternal Tradition’.

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His eyes closed, James Howard imagines Grecian frescoes, venetian paintings, Schiller’s poems, and lavender farms. The Appalachians , Sedona Valley, — the Himalayas. He imagines it, yes – and he imagines, a good old country song – ‘Big Rock Candy Mountain’ – he imagines Berlioz’s century, and Mongolian throat music, and the letters of Thomas Jefferson, and how perfectly pretty was Sally Hemmings in a white bonnet. The rhapsodies of the Age of Pisces blaze through his cerebellum – the Center of Mental and Physical Balance – as so greatly moved, tottering,  he ponders the lines of Goethe. “In God’s good Time.”

He opens them ( his eyes ) and indulgently cranes his neck back. Only inches away, ‘The Baltimore Herald’ lies ensconsed in a shrink wrap like a packet of used kindergarten napkins. The headlines are too big for an adult to understand, and make little sense as they are written only for those who have attained the aptitude to speak the English Language ( America’s first language ) – to the level of an average thirteen year old.

Chapter 5 :  Holy Mayors, and Money Rabbis , Xanadu, and the Scent of Rosebud.

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Pained, the over-educated Howard slightly scoffs with a feeling of alienation, bends down, and Squints : “ Mayors, rabbis, arrested in NJ corruption probe.” James Howard stares  emptily, remembering the international herald tribune headlines from the nineteen hundred and twenties.

Slightly panting, he mutters to himself “Didn’t they call the author of Great Gatsby an anti-semite?” -  shuddering, yet not disillusioned – he reminds himself of the dangers of radical stereotypes – as he thinks of “The War on Terror”, the neon signs Nine Eleven and Seven Eleven flashing in his head like alternative psychedelic chromium ink projections –  as his head buzzes with a thousand and seven uncategorizable radical stereotypes and feints, gasping in his intellections, – hopeless and prostrated before the collective phenomena of his times -  James Howard looks down into the Soil in confusion – his heart and mind link up like a Starbucks Coffee Company Platinum Membership grade Ethernet cable and gain exponential speed like a eight year old’s mind on the psychiatrically enforced and administered Attention Deficit Hyper Activity Disorder drug Aderrall, his thoughts gain immunity to prevailing prejudice, and rote instructions, – he races past the headlines of pharma frauds and the recent $1.4 billion lawsuit against Lilli Pharmaceuticals and Zyprexa,  and heroically transcends his own mind – and in an outburst of the Composer Brahms’ famous Requiem “All flesh is Grass”, – he stares into the bush – his cascading urine demonstrates an uncontestable powerpoint presentation like trickle down effect – gently ripping through the Cherokee brown top soil, careening like a small brook, bubbles arising, and small plucking sounds – as if intimidations to his own heart beats, – the gentle sonor of chickadees singing, and the final dusk ushering, a scent of flowers in spring bloom – a crane flies by –  Kunstler is struck in the incandescence of a natural daze in a single volume of complete and effervescent Awe.

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He feels acknowledged, vindicated, and spoken for. The urinary stroll after a dark night of the soul has proven redeeming for him – and thereby, automatically for all Men on Earth. Where an uncategorizable confusion was probing, where unrecalcitrant ugliness was vast. Where intersections blurred, he remembers not so long ago he felt the warmth in his hands, that he wanted to go out for a stroll, he wished to clutch close his walking staff, and he syncopated around his neck his favorite deep blue corduroy tie,  the armchair transformed and transmuted itself into a lawn – and by further transmutation of serendipity – the word lawn – had revealed itself as a revelation more powerful in the ineffable essence of the word – Soil. “The meek shall inherit the Earth”, which he had read somewhere on some kind of a gray welfare state building – but he defers the truth to no  further intellection – no matter how tempting – emancipated, he feels an embrace releasing him from his cramps, once again, into his favorite things.

“Rosebud”.

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-         # # #     –

Alexander K. Rai, MSMA ( A member to a Society of Mutual Admiration ) is an American Constitutionalist, Freethinker, Classical Scholar, and Entrepreneur from Philadelphia. He lives in Scandinavia as an American Expatriate who supports Ron Paul’s style of delivering the newborn, and though originally had wished to be a peripatetic hermit of pure Spirit, has presently elected to direct his energies of monogamy to emancipating universal human consciousness, advocating fellowship and sincerity and a passion for healing in all nations, The Truth, and genuine and articulate free enterprise built on Quintessentially American and Primeval Qualities of Self Reliance and Paleo Conservation with a firm and indelible emphasis on the role of ethics, co-creation, relevance, and reciprocity. He makes it a daily aim and studious mission to intemper his continuously diminishing indignation at “the phenomena” with Asamese lapsang tea. His Conscious Media Flagship Company is appellated ‘Green Therapy Global’ and advocates Holistic Integration of Ideas and Applications with an Earth Bound directive and a Conscious regard for “The Soil”. He was nominated by repetitive external solicitation as a Marquis’  ‘Who’s Who in America’ edition 2009 in which his name has been listed on inexpensive paper and economy grade indigo ink, and has never graduated from any Private or Public Institution of Mass Education, and if the Solar Flares do manage to “trickle down” through the Hole engineered by Tesla Science and Wernher Von Braun, – without a doubt, he never will nor will anyone in the graduating Class of 2012 – anywhere.

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