



That poor little sin eater in a darkened room fed artificial light and filtered half-truths and lies he gets to eat the broken fragmented shredded bits of strategically weaponized semantic psycho subliminal Sub-liminal he eats in the liminal space feeding and digesting so you don’t have to taste the indigestion.

And it’s only the giving That makes you what you are ~Ian Anderson I’ve been accused of spending too much time pondering.Maybe that’s why I love that song. “Wond’ring Aloud” by Jethro Tull… So much of Ian Anderson’s lyrics have always resonated with me on the deepest levels. There are other lyricists who get me…

We are Riders of Entropy. The Wild West of a young Universe. Big bang, young man. Nirvana is essentially to “blow out” and there is that poetry of blowing out a dandelion Seed pod and taking a snapshot of the flecks in stasis in the photographic Heisenberg state of UNCERTAINTY. Are they spreading? Are they…

Do I tell this story? Should I tell this story? Have I already told this story? Forgive me… this year has been a lot. In addition to the malestrom of late-stage capitalism’s decline into oligarchy, I’ve been spelunking the depths of my own personal cave. Dante wasn’t kidding when he told of “rings of hell”…

Castle Hill, Sunrise, Urban Poetry, The Great Wave, Kanagawa, Winter, New York City, Industrial Beauty, Morning Light, Smoke, Resilience, Atmospheric, Winter Landscape, Cityscape

“If you slow-cook the same soup on low for 8 hours for 30 years, what will you end up with? I became a teacher because the braise was causing my meat to fall off the bone. I was tender… but gelatinous.”

The dramatis personae of any school is enriched and enlivened by a healthy variety of demeanors. If my intention was only to diminish those “unlike” me, I would be simultaneously devaluing their contributions along with my own. What makes us unique is often what makes us great. I have become the teacher I am today,…

Buddhism’s soul wheel exposes a haunting truth: the Preta, or hungry ghosts, symbolize our relentless yearning in a world of scarcity. This echoes late-stage capitalism’s cruel nature, where insatiable desires imprison souls. Long before capitalism was birthed, its essence was foretold—a zero-sum game of denial and loathing affecting us all.
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