GLOBAL POSITIONING

The more often I hear about how cold it is outside, the more frequently I see people shuttering, wide-eyed, proclaiming; "it's freezing out there", the more inspired I am to take a walk. The overwhelmed public's fear of cold is just part of the motivation for my urban-arctic excursions. I learned at a very young age that apparel was available that would enable me to thrive in nearly any environment for nearly any length of time. Did you ever spend a full day sledding as a kid? Have you ever been on a chair-lift heading up a mountain only to have it stop, suspending you in mid-flight for a series of minutes?  It's getting colder out there folks, and the summers seem to be getting hotter. 

Years prior to my move, I'd been mentally preparing for re-entry into frozen conditions. Getting fully outfitted for said conditions was far less expensive than expected, and was quite a good time. Though I am excessively warm blooded, the fact remains that if you are overpowered by cold, you are not properly dressed. As Uncle Ebenezer one said; "These are garments Mr. Cratchit. Garments were invented by the human race as a protection against the cold. Once purchased, they may be used indefinitely for the purpose for which they are intended. Coal burns. Coal is momentary and coal is costly". 

Not a day passes when I don't recognize and give thanks for the luxury I possess with heat and hot water in my home. Each time I take a shower, I think of how fortunate I am to have the power to turn a knob and receive instant heat. What percent of the world's population has the ability to do this? 

Technology is crucial towards the advancement of the human race. It is also hugely responsible for preservation of life on this planet of diminishing natural resources, increasingly turbulent weather, and geopolitical chaos. With advancements taking place in nanotechnology, it seems the synthesis between biology and technology is closer than we might realize. Artificial organs are just the beginning, soon, most of the human construct will be available for recreation by way of science. Clearly, the gifts received through scientific advancement are invaluable. 

Elements of the original Global Positioning System were the Sun, Moon, and Stars. Maps of the stars date back as early as 16,500 BC. Maps of land date back as far as 3,800 BC. The earliest surviving map of the world, the Babylonian World Map, is dated 600 BC. The compass was invented in China between 1,000 BC and 200 AD, and was first put to practical use in navigation during the 10th century. Sixteen years ago, complete consumer coverage of the globe was established through a matrix provided by a network of 24 satellites in orbit. Increasingly these days, it seems without a digital GPS navigation device, people are having trouble making it from home to their local 7-Eleven. 

Through the course of history, man has had the opportunity to grow closer to nature, and the planet as a whole. The natural evolution of our minds and bodies have built a fundamental intuition. This intuition not only allows us to read and interpret all life on earth, but also in which direction we travel, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Only by our own volition are we able to stray from this course of bonding. The same micro-technology available to lengthen and preserve life, has been allowed to create a divide between man and nature. 

In the decade surrounding my birth; VHS, audio cassette, and the compact disc format were introduced to the general public. Laser-discs were conceived, born, and died before my 21st birthday. The second job I ever held was at Circuit City; May '97 through January '99. During this brief stint, two major advancements in consumer electronics were sprung on the fine people of New England. First came Digital Video Discs (DVD), next, digital personal wireless telephones. True analog cellular telephone technology came to light in 1973, and remained the industry standard for over twenty years. The switch to digital (2G) came in the late '90s. Digital mobile phones enabled the consumer with an average income the means to take part in "personal communications". Talk time became cheap. A life long movie and technology buff, I fast became the first person I knew with a DVD collection. After my first year of college I purchased a Nokia digital phone, and once again became the only person I knew that had one. 

For the sake of this entry, "Generation Y" will refer to those born between 1974 and 1980. We the members of Gen Y have witnessed and been a part of the greatest advancements in the history of micro-technology. We have the widest understanding of personal electronics at work. In addition to maturing in phones, music, and movies; think about television, video games, computers, Internet, and wireless electronics. We have been here, living the evolution of all technology, hands on, in real time. It is our generation that has the ability to separate genuine from artificial. We have the vision to identify "flash in the pan" gimmicks from real progress. 

3G personal telephones, and personal GPS navigators, are the two devices that seem to have entranced our nation. The WWII generation has pretty much left these alone, they also seem to be the only ones with their feet still on the ground. So we'll divide the living into these 4 categories for this study. WWII, baby boomers, the gens (x/y), and teenagers. Through personal research and discovery; the baby boomers and teenagers seem to stand on common ground when it comes to personal electronics. Though the gens use these devices as much as the boomers and teens, we use them far more practically. They are viewed as accessories, useful tools in communication. The boomers and teens have placed such value and loyalty into these gadgets, it has prompted closer review. 

Cell phones in many cases have replaced; imagination, face to face relationships, hand written letters, patience, attention spans, and independence. These days, if you don't immediately respond to a persons call or text message, you must be ignoring them. Just a decade ago, you had a home phone and answering machine. You'd come home, look for a flashing light, and listen to your messages. At times, several days would pass before you received a return call. These days, cell phones frequently take precedence over real people in your life. While growing up I was taught that it is impolite to watch television when someone is talking to you. Over the past several years, it has become commonplace to check your cell phone frequently during conversation. Cell checks sometimes indicate boredom, sometimes illustrate a greater interest in people outside, often, they simply make one feel special, e.g. "someone must be trying to get in touch with me" or "oh, someone texted me earlier, I'll text back right now". 

Most of us have a personal computer at our fingertips for a good stretch of each day. For several decades, e-mail has provided the ability to send a message to the other side of the planet in a matter of seconds. The birth of the Internet brought people together in a way inconceivable years before. The tremendous value of the written word gained the ability to travel at the speed of light through cyberspace. Just think, 100 years ago, a written message could only travel as fast as steam locomotive and horseback could carry it. Time put into fashioning a quality e-mail, in your own time, is a wonderful thing. 

The age old sentiment about men refusing to ask for directions has taken on greater meaning than ever before. GPS has replaced the dog as mans best friend. When I was growing up, access to orbiting satellites was at the exclusive disposal of our government. Here in 2010, pre-teenagers can carry that same technology in their lunch-boxes. People have a new found "freedom" in not having to think while traveling from point A to point B. In addition, no more empowering the gas station attendant by letting him point you in the right direction. I've seen a friendly Chicagoan walk up to a tourist with his GPS/phone in hand, scratching his head. He asked the man, "Hey, can I offer some assistance?".  The man responded with a scowl, "No, I'm fine!". To me, this translated to; remote machines give better directions than the locals. 

Whatever happened to exploration? Trusty old maps and compasses? Looking at a map generates an irreplaceable feeling of independence; seeing the places we can go, viewing the world as our canvas. We need to take time out and recognize that some advancement is not necessary and can even diminish a portion of our god given abilities. The notion of personal electronics being connected to a satellite feels like wearing a leash to me. On the subject, the way people walk down the street with phone in hand leading the way always reminds me of a dog being walked. Whether you are the master and your dog is the phone, or your phone is the master and you are the dog, something is definitely out of balance. 

Our relationships, both personal and professional, have never enjoyed so many channels of communication. Recognition of these luxuries and their temporary, fleeting nature must always be kept close at hand. Last May, the U.S. Government Accountability Office issued a report warning that some GPS satellites could fail as soon as 2010. Much like appreciating the ease and convenience of hot water from the tap, we must be able to imagine a world without such digital communicative distraction. We need to recognize our place in nature and never let our true connections diminish. 

Exploration starts within us.

ALPHA 184

"A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.  We can no longer afford to worship the god of hate or bow before the altar of retaliation. The oceans of history are made turbulent by the ever-rising tides of hate. History is cluttered with the wreckage of nations and individuals that pursued this self-defeating path of hate".      -MLK


Early 2009. Portofino Hotel & Yacht Club. Redondo Beach, CA.  Standing at the desk, reviewing the list of arriving guests, scanning the list of VIP's, one name stood out. I'd gone my whole life without seeing or hearing of anyone with this name, such a common word in our language, but as a surname it struck me as peculiar, unique. Dr. & Mrs. Pepper spent several nights at the hotel, I didn't see them until the day of their departure. Face to face with Dr. William Francis Pepper, bearing no concept of the man or his achievements, yet feeling something, something familiar . .

A week later, I received a customary e-mail from a fellow patriot announcing the upcoming guests on his weekly radio show. Among the names, William Pepper. A year spent since, learning about and speaking of Dr. Peppers work, I wish I had seized the opportunity to shake his hand when I had the chance.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was shot and killed April 4, 1968. He was considered one of the most influential leaders in American history. By my own account, he was the greatest, and most important man America ever produced. From Baptist minister, to the African-American civil rights movement, to human rights activism leading to a Nobel Peace Prize, no citizen has had a stronger influence on the events of our nation. Incredibly, at the time of his death, his work had only just begun.

Spring 1967. A young journalist named William Pepper had just returned from time in Vietnam. He had thoroughly documented his time and experience through photographs and written articles. The war seen through the lens of Pepper's camera centered on the damages inflicted on the civilian population. Images of children badly burned by napalm and phosphorus, villages ravaged and burned to the ground. It was upon his return that he met, and became friends with Dr. King. For several years King had been in a state of limbo on whether or not he would take a public stance on the war in Vietnam. Upon reviewing Pepper's work, in particular, a piece in Ramparts magazine titled, "The Children of Vietnam", Dr. King was moved to stand against the conflict.

"After reading that article, I said to myself, never again will I be silent on an issue that is destroying the soul of our nation".

King was planning a march of 500,000 impoverished men and women to the streets of Washington during the summer of 1968. He had spent the previous year building an opposition to US involvement in Vietnam. The inability to satisfy the requested addition of 200,000 troops to the war effort by General Westmoreland signified the calamity that would be created by an influx of half a million men and women into the nation's capital. King's proposed march was deeply threatening to the federal government. What if the people took a page from Thomas Jefferson's playbook, formed a revolution and demanded Washington be held accountable for their actions?  What if they demanded a solution for poverty in America?  What would happen if they demanded we end our involvement in Vietnam?

King was in Memphis to support a sanitation workers strike, he was shot and killed while standing on the balcony outside his room at The Lorraine Motel. After an unexplained trip around world, a man named James Earl Ray confessed to the murder, and was arrested by authorities in London. Ray changed his story 3 days after his confession, and was denied trial 7 times before his death.

In 1977, longtime friend of Dr. King, Reverend Ralph Abernathy, asked Dr. Pepper to interview James Earl Ray. Pepper went in believing Ray was the assassin, only to become his legal representation a decade later. He agreed to represent Ray only when completely convinced he was simply a patsy, and "used by forces well beyond his comprehension to carry our this murder".

In 1993, HBO aired a program titled "The Trial of James Earl Ray". I was in middle school at the time, and remember watching portions of this show, and my surprise with how different it was from everything else I'd ever seen on television. This was a mock trial of course, and the guilty verdict reached a very small crowd, the news traveling a very short distance through the mainstream media. The program was perceived, at the end of the day, as little more than entertainment.

In 1999, Dr. William Pepper was finally granted a real trial.  The King Family filed a wrongful death civil action suit against, "Loyd Jowers and Other Unknown Co-Conspirators".

Seventy witnesses took the stand and painted a multi-faceted, cohesive time-line of the crime as it was actually conceived, carried out, and covered-up. Ranking among the accused were J. Edgar Hoover and the FBI, Richard Helms and the CIA, the US military, Memphis police, and organized crime members from Memphis and New Orleans. Loyd Jowers, a local restaurant owner, stated that Lt. Earl Clark, MPD's best marksman, handed him a smoking rifle through the back door of his restaurant just after the shots were fired. Clark was hired by local organized crime members to carry out the act, but a back-up plan was in place at the assignment the US Army. Strategically placed around the scene of the crime; 20th Special Forces team Alpha 184. During the trial, each member's name, rank, serial number, and place of origin were brought to light. Further detailed; the briefing held at 4:30am the day of the assassination, and individual location points at the time of the shooting. If the first chain; government - intelligence - mafia - Memphis police failed, a crack squad of Army sharp shooters was in place to insure completion of the job.

It took just one hour for a verdict to be reached, at which point The Honorable James E. Swearengen stated to the jury:  "In answer to the question did Loyd Jowers participate in a conspiracy to do harm to Martin Luther King, your answer is yes. Do you also find that others, including governmental agencies, were parties to this conspiracy as alleged by the defendant? Your answer to that one is also yes."

From my perspective, this was the single most damming verdict in a long history of American conspiracy. Yet, each person I've ever addressed with this information, had no prior knowledge of the case's existence. The deafening silence generated by this monumental achievement is a true testament to the selective information made available to the American people by the mass media.  Dr. Martin Luther King was murdered by the same people who designated a day to commemorate his memory.  It's been proven in a United States court of law.  

So once again, I must inquire . . . Where is your outrage?


"He is depicted on King Day as a civil rights leader. And that's the way you're going to see him probably forever. But he was much more than a civil rights leader and that's what no one in official capacity wants you to know. He had moved well beyond the civil rights movement by 1964-65 and he had become effectively a world-figure in terms of human rights people and particularly the poor of this earth. That's where he was going. That's the area you don't really get into safely when you start talking about wealth, redistributing wealth. Taking, diverting huge sums of money into social welfare programs and health programs and educational programs at the grass roots. When you start going into that you begin to tread on toes in this country, in the United Kingdom, and in most of the western world.
Perhaps the lesson of the King assassination is that our government understands the power of nonviolence better than we do, or better than we want to. In the spring of 1968, when Martin King was marching (and Robert Kennedy was campaigning), King was determined that massive, nonviolent civil disobedience would end the domination of democracy by corporate and military power. The powers that be took Martin Luther King seriously. They dealt with him in Memphis".    -WILLIAM F. PEPPER

"For a quarter of a century, Bill Pepper conducted an independent investigation of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. He opened his files to our family, encouraged us to speak with the witnesses, and represented our family in the civil trial against the conspirators. The jury affirmed his findings, providing our family with a long-sought sense of closure and peace, which had been denied by official disinformation and cover-ups".     -CORETTA SCOTT KING

http://www.williampepper.com/audio.html
https://www.thekingcenter.org/KingCenter/Transcript_trial_info.aspx  

ALL-PRO

Do you remember 1986?

I was six and a half years old on new years day. The Patriots were gearing up for a Super Bowl XX battle with the "Monsters of the Midway". The Celtics were running the Eastern Conference, well on the way to their sweet 16th World Championship. The Red Sox boasted a balanced, veteran ball club, spearheaded by the hottest young pitcher in baseball. And the NHL Bruins were playoff bound, only to be swept away in the first round by the rival Canadians. Three of four major franchises in the final round of their respective post-seasons. These were my first conscious memories of professional sports.

Fast forward a quarter century and the names have changed, but the status remains largely the same. Fellow New England sports fans and I were born into a special set of circumstances, never to be taken for granted. Over the past decade, we've earned somewhat of a "New York status". By this I mean a magnetic dislike generated by a winning atmosphere accompanied by an over-confident, under-educated fan base. Unfortunately, this is simply a symptom of the times. Though my New England pride is unparalleled, to suggest that our sports fans are the exception to the rule would be absurd. That said; I do hold fast to the belief that we possess some of the greatest and most loyal sports fans on the planet. But, when things start heating up, and we head closer to the championship title, the fair weather fans will spring from the woodwork. Each will have their defense ready to deliver upon any questioning by the true fan.

My time away has earned me an objective view on New England and many other sports markets. In southern California there is such a spectrum of people from such different backgrounds that I was able to get a great feel for sports nation. In a true sports market, stuck with losing atmospheres for stretches of time, you'll find hard nosed, well versed sports enthusiasts. Between '86 & '04, Boston sports had a long run of mediocrity with very few highlights. Though rich with history, we faced a great many losing seasons and shattered hopes. Along with an 86 year drought between World Series championships, stretches like 86-04 created a crash course education in professional sports. A "keep your friends close and enemies closer" approach has enriched true fans with a greater understanding of entire leagues; a wider body of coverage. In addition to Boston; Chicago, Philadelphia, and Detroit are prime examples of this case.

Professional sports are our nations strongest pastime, at the same time, one of our most lucrative businesses. Perhaps above all else, sports are our greatest distraction. In a media-driven society such as ours, sports serve as one of our healthiest diversions from an otherwise contaminated news feed. Personally, baseball serves as my greatest avenue to peaceful timelessness. Between the World Series and Spring Training I find myself more susceptible to irritability . . more easily drawn to frustration.

Where I'm from, sports are an incomparable unifying factor in our lives, sometimes, even to a fault. The highs and lows of our beloved teams often have a stronger effect on New England's morale than do the extremes of weather. Literally. When I say "to a fault", I don't at all mean to belittle the die hard fan. In fact, true fans are some of the most noble, stand-up, fun to hang with people around. The fault comes when mood, stress, attitude, blood pressure and overall health are impacted by a teams performance. Healthy distraction=good. Living & dying by your team=bad. To whatever degree our dedication amounts, we must be served the most upstanding competition possible. I wish this requirement went without saying . . I wish it didn't require a second thought . . but as with all things; we must seek an all encompassing view.

Do you know anyone who places regular bets on sporting events? Have you been exposed to sports bars consisting of single men sitting alone watching three or more games at once? How about fantasy football? Now, please consider player salaries, television & radio time, advertising, endorsements, merchandising, and ticket sales.

1 Timothy 6:10 - For the love of money is the root of all evil.

The "Black Sox". Pete Rose. Tim Donaghy.

Cases like this survive media filtration by the uncovering of indisputable evidence by unflinching investigative journalism. These events are detrimental to the guilty organization, and send shock waves to the very top. Though sadly, much like the "once in a blue moon" athlete caught cheating on his wife, society agrees to isolate these instances rather than recognize the icebergs lying beneath. I understand the comfort felt by the ignorance is bliss crowd, but recently, I've been insulted repeatedly by pro sports, in particular; the National Football League.

I've grown accustomed to the uncanny popularity the league has enjoyed over the years, it's impossible to ignore. I've been neck deep in crowds whose lives have been dedicated to fantasy football . . glued to the ticker, stat-tracker, and mobile updates. NFL is the only league I know of that has its own show airing each day of the calendar year. From where I stand, nothing in American entertainment is so glorified and spotlighted as this mighty league.

At this point, on field officiating is almost entirely for show. Calls made unavailable for review are generally so bad, they are impossible to predict. And if a play, or ruling, is challengeable . . look for the red flag . . it's coming. One of the great aspects of baseball is the long duration of game play between short commercial breaks. Being away from New England as long as I have, many of the games I've watched have been at sports bars with little control over conditions. This consistent hassle of watching my game while having to listen to the audio feed of another, has truly brought NFL Sunday viewing into perspective. In my estimation, roughly 40% of all football coverage, during a game, is advertising. The world's biggest day for commercials is Super Bowl Sunday . . and during the season, many of the largest campaigns launch during football games. Just when you think they've maximized the number of game-break/advertising opportunities, they surprise you and come up with a few more.

Money makes the world go round. The huge sums of money claimed by professional athletes is proportional to the revenue generated by their performances. Sports are a good thing. Healthful distraction is a good thing. The concern I raise is a simple question of integrity. Are we getting what we pay for? Are all events transpiring on the field of play clean and fair? Are the athletes whom we idolize and make rich, focused on doing all in their power to propel their team to victory? At the end of a season, or career, which carries more weight . . . the contents of your trophy case, or of your bank account? I believe that any professional athlete, motivated by anything other than the relentless pursuit of victory, is a sellout, and void of credibility.

I am a life long sports fan. I don't know what I'd do without the wonderful gifts I've been blessed with over the years from the wide world of sports. From my foundation in "The Hub", to Vin Scully and the Dodgers, on to Chi-town and it's rich history and legendary clubs. I am better versed and more involved than ever before. My understanding and compassion for professional athletes is at its peak. In competition, heart is immeasurable.

Invaluable.

Everything.

THE YEAR WE MAKE CONTACT

The turn of the decade. The end of the '00s. I trust a fresh start is a welcome sight for all, and what a sharp year for us to begin anew . . just look at the number . . fresh & clean. For decades we've looked towards this moment as the future . . depicted in literature and film as a far off, often post-apocalyptic setting with society assembled in a far different formation, holding vastly different values. As the world turns, the numbers we use to quantify time are held in different esteem by different people. Time is relative. Yet, as we've discussed before, our interpretation of time is measured largely by the time we've spent here on earth, and upon turning 30, I gained new perspective of our portion on the timeline.

Currently, we find ourselves smack dab in the center of the information age, and like so many other quantifying charts and measurements, information and technology are increasing at an exponential rate. This, of course, includes the information available to us, and served to us. As efforts increase to secure and control information about American agenda, so too increase the number of breakthroughs by investigative minds. The quiet scientific research commissioned to further state understanding of our universe, our planet, and life at large is slipping little by little into the mainstream. People are getting better and better at reading between the lines of corporate controlled news feeds. As economies and societies fall to new lows, the ruling class is beginning to feel a loosening of their grip. A person, class, or nation with nothing to lose is difficult to control.

Whatever your interpretation of Mayan predictions, it is impossible to believe all is well on our planet. From extreme weather events to political and social unrest, life is certainly out of balance. The question raised by earthly chaos is simple; What is our role? What can we do? Does this pondering relate to you? Do you consider yourself part of the fabric of all life on earth? Do you recognise your impact and potential? Thankfully it is becoming more and more popular for Americans to face reality, to think for themselves. Of course it's not easy to transition from prescription existence to actual fact. Fiction is broadcasted in full color HD while truth is black and white. The static between the two comes exclusively from the messenger. The truth is ever present, yet a challenge to obtain. The first step, in my experience, is to discover oneself. To acknowledge your own strength and capacity for good; your potential footprint.

I began this platform at a pivotal point in time. Personally, it was the start of a brand new chapter in my life. Globally; I signed on as the wave was truly building strength and momentum. 2012 or not, the momentum will continue to build . . this must be distinctly understood. The mission is simple; when the wave begins to break, have as many surfers as humanly possible upright and balanced on their boards. As my friend Mike once said; "When you're at a campsite, and a bear attacks, you don't have to be faster than the bear . . you only have to be faster than the slowest camper". It is my mission to have all those I care about to be ready, and faster than that slowest camper.

Those I had the great honor of spending some time with over the past few weeks heard me speak of "The Line" I've effectively drawn in the sand. Years of reading between the lines has brought me to a great understanding of how the world truly operates. I wouldn't expect anyone to take each and every word of mine as fact . . at the same time I would expect mainstream press to receive the same scrutiny. Those on the other side of the line are not my enemies; in most cases far from it. The line was drawn to separate those committed to reality from those who prefer to be fed what they know. To separate those whose minds and lives are aloft; subject to head whichever direction the wind blows, from those who know how to use a compass, and have the ability to read a map. People who navigate their own way through space and time. The line divides the people who can accept hard truth from those with a strict diet of comfortable, familiar falsities. On one side: appearance, the other: substance.

The debate is ever present; do people change? or do we mature then remain fundamentally the same for the rest of our time? It's a person to person case by case scenario in my view. Like most things in life, the power to change comes from within. When it comes to belief and interpretation however, we always have the ability to change, and it's our responsibility. As more information becomes available, as scientific and spiritual developments advance, it's our duty to open our minds and embrace discovery. Many ills of this world can be strictly contributed to antique perspectives and stubborn unwillingness to evolve with the times. Most American military activity over the past hundred years has been based on the perpetual pursuit of profit. Our entire infrastructure has been built of the consumption of a finite supply of fossil fuels. Why didn't we emphasise and promote renewable resources since back when they were first developed? Because like so much else, the decisions are made by dinosaurs at the top of the pyramid whose income is based on the sale of antiquated energy sources. Many businesses, one time leaders of industry, fail due to refusal to grow and mature with changes in society. Countless relationships and friendships are broken from the same inability to adapt. My dream is to live in a society of transparency, based on truth and discovery. A world that exploits and celebrates advancement in scientific development and natural understanding. A world that shuns secrecy and monetary based political and military conflict.

My friend Mike, who I cited earlier, is Mr. Michael C. Ruppert. Those who know me best are likely already familiar with Mr. Ruppert and his work. His influence on me and my quest is unparalleled. I met up with him last May, we spoke for several hours on a variety of topics. His film, "Collapse" is in limited release in theaters across the nation and into Canada, and available on-demand from cable providers coast to coast. He brought the following story to my attention, among many insightful observances. Visit collapsemovie.com for directions to this very important film.

The 100th Monkey by Lyall Watson

The Japanese monkey, Macaca fuscata, had been observed in the wild for a period of over 30 years. In 1952, on the Island of Koshima, scientists were providing monkeys with sweet potatoes dropped in the sand. The monkeys liked the taste of the raw sweet potatoes, but found the dirt unpleasant. An 18 month old female named Imo found she could solve the problem by washing the potatoes in the salty ocean water, improving the taste of the potato. She taught this trick to her mother. Her playmates learned this trick and taught their mothers too. This cultural innovation was gradually picked up by numerous monkeys in the troop and observed by the scientists.

Between 1952 and 1958, all the young monkeys learned to wash the sandy sweet potatoes and make them more palatable. Only the adults who imitated their children learned this cultural improvement. Other adult monkeys kept eating the dirty sweet potatoes. In autumn of 1958, something startling took place. A certain number of Koshima monkeys were already washing their sweet potatoes, the exact number is not known. The hypothetical number given was 99. Then it happened. The hundredth monkey learned to wash the sweet potatoes. The added energy of that hundredth monkey somehow created an ideological breakthrough. Almost everyone in the tribe was washing their potatoes before eating them, but a surprising occurrence was observed by these scientists. The habit of washing the sweet potato had jumped overseas. Colonies of monkeys on other islands and the mainland troop at Takaskiyama began washing their sweet potatoes.

Although the exact number may vary, this Hundredth Monkey Phenomenon means that when only a limited number of individuals knows a 'new way', it remains the conscious property of those individuals. However, when one more individual manifests this new awareness, the field is strengthened, a critical mass is reached, and the awareness becomes the conscious property of all. This new awareness is communicated mind to mind.

We're looking for the 100th monkey.

"Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers" -VOLTAIRE

GRATITUDE

The temperature has been on a steady decline for several months now. For the first time in nearly a decade, I've been able to experience the natural course of autumn. The brilliant procession of deciduous trees; leaves falling to earth, southern migration of our feathered friends. To me, the cooling climate is a natural element of the arriving holiday season, and it has been sorely missed for some years now.

Before leaving California, I met an older gentleman from Michigan and spoke with him about my plans for Chicago. While 90% of the people I'd spoken with about my move looked at me sideways, this gentleman's instinct was to focus on the great value of winter. Not in the cycle of life capacity, but its effect on personal relationships. He spoke of how harsh weather promotes convening indoors, causing us to "slow it down . . to appreciate what we have". I remember the perplexed 90%: how could I even consider leaving paradise? How would I survive a climate that contains rain, snow, sleet, hail, and temperatures below freezing?

Bill Hicks had a great bit at the beginning of Revelations on the subject; "Los Angeles . . every day, hot and sunny, today, hot and sunny, tomorrow, hot and, for the rest of the . . hot and sunny, every single day, hot and sunny . . and they love it. 'Isn't great, every day, hot and sunny?' What are you, a fucking lizard? Only reptiles feel that way about this kind of weather. I'm a mammal, I can afford coats, scarves, cappuccino and rosy cheeked women".

"Slow it down".

The message is simple . . yet crucial. The long standing "gathering around the campfire" is a key element of the human connection. Banding together to battle adverse conditions seems to be a dying trend in our society. The care free mentality I witnessed in California was seemingly impervious to everything short of an earthquake. Protecting from cold builds character, it generates appreciation for clear warm weather when available. The person who best adapts to his surroundings, who stands fast from one extreme to the next, is the most balanced. Seasons are a part of life we all must endure; mentally, physically, and emotionally.

The first decade of the new millennium is coming to a close, and this holiday season comes with a special merit. Along with reintroduction to winter, my relocation has placed me in an environment with the smallest support system to date. Well before the move, I knew the circumstance I was placing myself in. I knew the move would greatly refine and clarify my friendships. As I've always said, we have no contracts. We are free to follow our intuition, and are best served so to do. One reason for the move, among many, was to break new ground. To start from scratch, socially. As I begin my thirties, I enjoy the prospect of making fresh contact with like minded individuals. 2010 will surely be one of the pivotal years of my life.

Irrespective of faith, one thing cannot be denied . . cold weather or warm, the end of the calendar year sets the table for the greatest understanding of what matters most in life. Individuals place different amounts of stock in different compartments of their lives . . some will be overcome with grief at the absence of what means most to them. Yet even times of great sorrow can be taken as experiences of great understanding. My old friend Celso made it clear to me many years back; "Times like these, make you feel, most human". I've long found great peace in those words. Identifying pain, and from where it originates, is key in a persons mental well being.

I send my wholehearted thanks to the inspirational. To the men and women throughout history who took risks and marched to the beat of a different drummer. To those who saw the way the rest of society was doing something and identified its limitation. Those who speak only in truth, often appearing as a voice from the wilderness, risking all they've earned for the all-important purpose of righteousness.

To my family. My parents, grandparents and all who came before. To those who's DNA I am compiled of, whose great qualities I aspire to best represent. Who's hard work paved the way for all of us who came after. To my aunts and uncles who's influence continue to shape my parents and their children; my cousins, coast to coast, unique traits and multifarious journeys abound. To my brother; the greatest man I've ever known, and his incredible family . . beyond words.

To my friends. From New Hampshire to Boston, Maine to Connecticut, Los Angeles to Chicago, and everywhere in between. Though contact may be limited or even extinct, each and every person I've ever called a friend has had an incalculable impact on my life. On this planet of immeasurable personalities and perspectives, my time has been favored with invaluable opportunities to meet some of the greatest characters who ever walked. I am in each and every one of their debts.

Most of all, my heartfelt thanks to the love of my life. The dependable, commonsensical, delight of a woman who's devotion and comfort is unparalleled. The one who's energy has taught me so much about the human spirit, provided such harmony in a world of perpetual uncertainty.

The time I will spend in New England this coming month could not come at a better juncture. For those I will have the great pleasure of spending time with, it's been long overdue. For the rest, I shall enjoy the prospect of crossing paths in the not too distant future. All of my very best, as ever, to you and yours as we move forward.

Together.

PURPLE HEART

April 13, 2009. Monday. Opening day for the Dodgers at Chavez Ravine on a beautiful afternoon in southern California. Record breaking crowd on hand scaling between a steady murmur and a roar with the events of the day. The Dodger legends are announced and walk out on the field one at a time to thunderous applause. Next come the staff, trainers, coaches, and your 2009 Los Angeles Dodgers. Back to the stadium from a commercial break; roar temporarily subdued, voice of part-time play-by-play announcer Charlie Steiner begins to sound over the P.A. system. It quickly becomes clear who's being introduced. Today marks the first game of the 60th season Vin Scully will grace us with his broadcast. The intro ends with the greatest line Steiner has ever delivered;

"It is my great honor to introduce, quite simply, the greatest baseball broadcaster who ever lived, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Vin Scully" The place erupts like 1988 with Kirk Gibson rounding the bases pumping his fist. I had chills from head to toe as one of my true idols walked out on to that field.

When I left everything I knew in Boston, and arrived in Los Angeles late summer 2002, few things brought me a sense of home. First, there was the champion of all Mexican fare, Poquito Mas, but more importantly, the legend of the Dodger Stadium press box. When I arrived, the team was in the basement of the NL west. But the man with the resounding voice welcomed me to the southland, and tuned me in to Dodger baseball.

Fast forward 7 years, opening day, Vin is preparing to throw out the first pitch. "Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm Dodger Stadium welcome, to Los Angeles native, United States Army Officer recently returning from his second tour of duty serving our nation with the armed forces in Iraq, Sergeant Jeremy Ortega". Vin stands smiling next to the mound as the fully uniformed soldier makes his way forward with a limp in his walk and a cane in his hand. With in a few feet, the Sergeant extends his hand, Vinny steps forth, arms wide, and embraces our returning hero. I broke into tears.

A month or so later. I'm surfing the channels and I come upon a PGA open series event on one of the networks. Tiger, "Lefty", and many other superstars of golf are there, lining the fairway as an announcement was made.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause for United States Marine, recently returning from his third tour of duty protecting our nations' freedom in Afghanistan, quadruple amputee, Specialist Jeremy Carter". Sitting in a wheelchair, pushed down the center of the fairway, stumps for arms, stumps for legs. Dressed in uniform. Our war hero.

Chicago. August. Avenue Hotel. Men and women of varied ages, races, and disabilities fill the lobby. Some blind, others deaf. Some paraplegic, others quadriplegic. All bearing injuries from one of our current Middle Eastern conflicts. Governor Quinn, Mayor Daley expected to make appearances, offer some words of thanks at that nights ceremony honoring our veterans. The governor comes through for one half hour, the mayor couldn't make it.

I'm sure everyone has been exposed, either in person, or on television, to something like this. A soldier returns from war after suffering a life hampering injury in battle, and becomes a mascot for his respected branch of service. Purple Heart. Full discharge. Many thanks for your service to our country. When I became emotional watching opening day, it was the release of tension built up over many nights spent weighed down by the root causes of war. It was all the thinking I had done about the WWII generation and their children; our parents. Thinking about Vietnam. Thoughts of elementary school and Desert Storm. Our first televised insight to Middle Eastern events, though I was far too young to read between the lines. I thought of all the sacrificed Americans since the Revolutionary War.

Vin's embrace meant welcome home. Glad you're still with us. I know war is hell and life is a topsy-turvy ride. Thank you for your contribution. How many people in Vin's life have been effected by war? How many close friends has he lost during his 81 year ride on this planet? How many important men has he met? Politicians, Generals, religious leaders, soldiers, entertainers. Vin's reaction triggered in me the collection of so many stages and value systems I've held over the years. In my youth, I was very interested in getting involved in Military action and or Law Enforcement. I was intrigued by the strength and power one has in a position involving such authority. I'm sure the action movies of the 80s had a great deal to do with it, but until about ten years ago, brute force and American policy had my 100% support and commitment.

I've grown up a lot since then.

I hope that soon we will all be able to identify that the wars our nation involves itself in, are rarely, if ever, fought for the reasons written in our history books. I salute and support each and every member of the United States Armed Forces; and wish them all safety, security, and victory in all encounters. However, more than anything else, I want them to come home. I want them here with us, working to preserve our world from where they're most effective, from where they hail. Once we can collectively acknowledge the true problems we face in need of resolution, concentrate our energy on them; then we will be well on our way towards achieving our goals as human beings. My heart goes out to all those who have lost loved ones in war.

"The atom bombs are piling up in the factories, the police are prowling through the cities, the lies are streaming from the loudspeakers, but the earth is still going round the sun". -GEORGE ORWELL

THE SPIRIT

Soul. The essence of all living beings. The animation of the physical, energy of the heart, and spirit. No living person knows precisely where the spirit goes at the end of ones life. Many religions have come to many conclusions since the beginning of recorded history. This entry has nothing to do with the great mystery which begins at the end of our holiday on earth. Instead we will focus on the living spirit alive inside each of us, its power, and its potential.

For much of my childhood my dog Emma was one of my closest friends. During my formative years, a great deal of time was spent hanging out with her, learning her tendencies, her moods and behaviors. To me, dogs are the most user friendly way to begin to understand the soul in its living form. Dogs' senses of sound, smell, and awareness are generally more sensitive than humans'. In turn, they are very much attuned to our moods, feelings, and behaviors. Much like our ability to train a dog and predict its behavior, the dog is constantly learning about its owner, and the nature of man. Watching dogs reacting to people is a great pastime of mine . . the dog can tell from fifty feet away what you're all about. If you are afraid of dogs they will growl, snarl, bark and try to get after you. If you're on the level, they will pant, wag, and generally try to jump up and lick you. Have you ever seen a dog react to a crying member of your family? The dog can sense adjustments in attitude, the chaotic, dark, and confusing energy generated by sadness is like a siren to the dog. He senses the sorrow, takes one look at his owner, and moves to the furthest corner of the house. It's never pleasant to bask in the energy of sadness, for man or animal.

Though not part of school curriculum, we have the ability to read each other as dogs read us. We are the sum total of our thoughts, we generate our own individual connection to the world around us. We fine tune our senses each day based upon our own personal feelings and desires. If we hold no interest in people, animals, or nature in general; it will be impossible to advance our understanding and connection. But, as all you students of Earl Nightingale out there know, "we become what we think about". If we sincerely desire a connection to any aspect of life, the only logical result will be to achieve that connection.

Now, what is the point of identifying this energy? In what respect can this be put to practical use? Think about it. If we all worked to be more aware of the feelings and interests of the living things around us, might that alleviate some tension found in daily life on earth today? Of course this task is huge . . it might even seem impossible in lieu of the division found in our society today . . yet it is crucial. The only way to begin the arduous process of reversing the course of history currently underway, is for all people to see the world and its illnesses from the same set of eyes. So much of what we do is based on closing ourselves off from the world around us . . based on fear. As long as we continue to let religions, creeds, and boarders divide us, there can be no unified organization towards peace and preservation of our planet. We have the ultimate power over ourselves, through thought and action, and over the fate of our existence.

A few months back, HBO aired a particularly moving episode of Real Sports with Bryant Gumble. The segment most impacting revolved around a teenage girl named Jacklyn who had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor at age nine. She was a die hard lacrosse fan, and took great fascination with the women's team at Northwestern University. Her father sent a letter to the team, and soon there after she was made an honorary captain. She formed personal relationships with each of the players on the team, exchanging e-mails and text messages, appearing at as many games as she possibly could. The Wildcats won the women's NCAA championship the first season she was with the team. As the relationship between Jacklyn and the team progressed, so to did the teams success. To date, the Northwestern Wildcats women's lacrosse team have been NCAA champs 5 years running . . . all of the years Jaclyn has been a member. As her energy has lifted the athlete's around her, the teams energy has clearly made an impact on Jaclyn's journey towards a full recovery. With the mutually beneficial relationship identified, the young girl's father started "Friends of Jaclyn", An organization connecting critically ill children with NCAA teams. At the time they filmed the show, there were not enough sick children to meet the demand created by eager colleges and universities. The point raised by this fine story should be quite clear; the human spirit knows no boundaries . . . it has the capacity to overcome all odds. Our concentration of energy towards achievement can yield miraculous results, and wouldn't you know, it comes from within . . . It's up to us.

Once long ago, overwhelmed by the tragic loss of a schoolmate, I went to my father for solace. I asked him what he though heaven was like: how we might reconnect with loved ones, what it would feel like. His response was something to the effect of; "I don't think you can physically see and touch the people you hope to reconnect with . . . you can just feel their presence . . . like when I'm at the office and I walk around the corner, without seeing into a cubicle, I can sense a persons' presence". I was half my current age when we had this discussion but it clearly struck a chord. Since, we've had a handful of conversations about "the collected unconscious" which I've found comfort in over the years. It's all part of the same thing . . we are all part of the same thing. Our bodies are our temples, our vehicles for navigating this physical, finite, fleeting period of time on this blessed planet. It's the soul, the spirit inside each of us that is of greatest importance. We choose what to make of ourselves, our beliefs and actions based upon them will determine our individual composition, our contribution to the collected unconscious. They say something like 90% of illness is derived from stress. Stress is the product of our our own mental and physical reaction to the events of our world. As members of earths community, we are responsible not only for our personal surroundings, but for playing a role in the fabric of all events on our planet. Because we are all members of "the great flywheel of society", only in banding together in mind and spirit will we be able to make the push . . to create the change required to live in a world based, as god intended, on peace and love.

PUMP UP THE VOLUME

When I was a child, Sony debuted its Mega Bass technology. Other electronics manufacturers followed suit with their own versions; Bass Boost, Max-Bass, Dbb, Bass X-tend, etc. The majority of the music I listened to while growing up was hip-hop. Some of it was considered "gangsta rap" and centered on violence, oppression, and life in the ghettos of America. Most of the listening was done through headphones, plugged into a Walkman. Maximum volume, maximum bass, no sound distortion. All tapes, all day. In retrospect it's interesting, thinking of the hardcore lessons, messages, and beats drilled into my head from such depths of the underground. As I was growing up, right next to me was the evolution and commercialization of the art form. Before rap music became the new pop music, the education derived from nearly all recorded artists was incredible, especially by today's standards. In looking back, YO! MTV Raps is the greatest example of how times have changed. The videos played and studio guests were the best, and most respected of their time. Though rocking the freshest styles of their era, these men and women were on stage for their talents, not for the degree to which they sold out, how many commercials they appeared in, or how many award shows they attended. Can you remember when MTV stood for rebellion and original creative expression? It seems like forever ago. I guess it was forever ago.

In my early teens, I began to take great interest in movies, how they were made, and who made them. I was intrigued and clued myself into aspect ratios, film stock vs. video, filmmakers, actors, and perhaps above all, sound. Film scoring became a fascination of mine. Instrumental music, largely from the movies, was one of my first real passions. In my opinion, soundtracks remain one of the most under-appreciated forms of music in the world. In the beginning of middle school I began to fully understand the way stereo components worked. It was then that I connected my family VCR to the home stereo. Realistic brand receiver, wood housed 2-way floor speakers, Hitachi 4-head hi-fi stereo VCR. Bass. Treble. Volume. I credit this single move with generating my interest in film making. All of a sudden, watching movies at home became awesome.

Thus began the trend of Pumping up the Volume. I had been blasting music in my earphones for years, but this was the start of something new. This was also the birth of the "turn it down, it's too loud" people. From headphones, to automobiles, to home entertainment centers . . . theater quality and quantity audio became the benchmark. The only variable; noise pollution; interfering with others sleep, disturbing the neighbors. I'm not sure of anywhere I've lived since at home in high school where I didn't receive at least one noise complaint . . as usual, keeping it real yields disadvantages as well.

The theme of the essay is simply this; life happens in full volume. The events of your day do not have a volume control knob. When in a movie theater, at a ball game, or at a concert . . you do not have the ability to reach for the remote. The volume is loud and proud as it was designed to be. Whether you're seeing a country, hip-hop, or classical performance, the volume has been carefully engineered and calibrated . . and it is loud. When a lion roars, a fire trucks' siren is blaring, a crowd erupts in applause, or the sky explodes with fireworks . . there is no volume control . . or mute button. That is life happening, full tilt, full stereo surround sound. Nature, and the artists aligned with it, recognize the value of volume . . and the fact that the audience has no say in it.

We have gotten so very accustomed as a people to get what we want, just when we want it. We have "the power" to change the channel on news we don't want to hear, "to block" messages from those who's postings have gotten to annoying to bare, to select what we will from countless options worldwide. Immersion is the action. Absorb the world around you. Grab existence by the horns. Live life to its maximum potential. Turn the volume up, not down.

THE AMERICAN IDOL

We are members of the audience.

Most of us think we are participants. Others aspire to "become the change (they) want to see in the world" as Gandhi advised. But sadly, our collective circumstance stands firm; we are simply the audience. We watch from the sidelines as those in control make decisions which determine the direction of our nation, the course of our history, the fate of our planet.

Are you a subscriber to the "yes we can" presidential election policy? Do you believe once the president takes office, he acts in accordance with the people that "voted" him into the presidency? No . . he does precisely what he is advised by the handful of financial elites who supported and guided him from his earliest days in politics. This has been the trend, with no real sign of "change" anywhere on the horizon. Contrary to popular belief, the president is not "elected" to change the way the country is run. He is more accurately "selected" to keep things the way they've always been.

Since the beginning of my quest for truth, I’ve come across quotes from some of the greatest men in American history. The words of Thomas Paine and Thomas Jefferson drew my attention in particular. Upon arriving in Chicago I was taken by a statue of Abraham Lincoln on the east lawn of the Historical Society. The statue was unveiled and presented by Lincoln's grandson and namesake on October 22, 1887.

When we learned of the founding fathers in grade school, it seemed like the American Revolution was eons ago. Upon turning 30 a few months back, I was given new perspective on the passage of time. 30 is easy to multiply and use as a round unit of measurement on a timeline. Lets assume life expectancy will be around ninety by the time I get there (god willing). For this example of time passage; 1 Unit = 30 years, 1 Lifetime = 90 years.

The Civil War was fought only 1 1/2 lifetimes ago . . the Lincoln statue came 1 unit later. The Vietnam conflict came to its conclusion just over 1 unit ago . . WWII 2 units back. Thomas Jefferson just passed away 2 lifetimes back . . Paine less than a unit prior to that. The Declaration of Independence and Constitution of the United States of America were penned and adopted about a decade apart . . 2 lifetimes and 1 unit back. Hopefully, by this point, we are on the same page. Men stood up to be more than the audience not long ago, they spoke words of the greatest weight and backed them up, statues were erected in honor of them less than two centuries ago.

We the audience have looked at great men of American history on currency and in statues since birth, celebrated what little we know of their existence, and smiled about the "freedom" their sacrifices left for us. Other than a few profile busts and made for TV coins of recent commanders in chief, who was the last leader we held to such stature? Who took office and genuinely changed the way we looked at the position as he worked to actually fix some of the major ills of the world? Jack Kennedy? Before he was able to deconstruct the rogue American intelligence apparatus, he was killed by it. So when was the last time we looked up and truly admired, adored, and backed the president for all the right reasons? Lincoln perhaps? Maybe, though he too was hated by many and killed in sinister plot. Roosevelt? Truman? I would not like to face the demons in their closets, let alone carry the burdens of their actions while in office.

Could it be their has not been a truly celebrated president in so long because no one has had the brass to buck the system since our nation was at war with itself? I know, I know, "YES WE CAN". Lets explore the volume of Barack Obama merchandise out there. Frequently, images of our president appear next to the likes of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Some shirts include the likeness of Rosa Parks . . I’ve even seen some air brush work placing Malcolm X in the scene. Perhaps most ironic of all, silk-screened images of the president in the Rastafarian colors with the words "one love" printed underneath.

The true American Idol.

We the audience put this man on a god-like plateau months before the primary. How did he rise from obscurity to celebrity overnight? How can you explain a man raised in the society described in my last posting rising to the top of the free world with all that stacked against him? Easy. It wasn't stacked against him, he is not from that world, the ball has been in his court since his first day in politics. Perhaps the strongest race, with the greatest case for revolution, has been pacified. The people the president works for are the same ones with blood on their hands from executing true black leaders from decades past. The president is like the host of a game show, a news anchor. He is simply a weather man, in place to tell you the way things are, speaking about events beyond his control.

We must become champions of consciousness.

It is a choice that must come from within. We cannot campaign or advertise. There is no agenda or way to generate profit. Our cause should be dedicated to one thing, the common good.

The progression of our species . . .

The perseverance of all life on earth.

"Enlighten the people, generally, and tyranny and oppressions of body and mind will vanish like spirits at the dawn of day" -THOMAS JEFFERSON