never blank

Posted in art, poetry, philosophy on December 18, 2014 by furious buddha

no oblivion
seeker am i yet i am
glimpsing nirvana

between counted breath
in practice i never blank
as i do when i’m

before the canvas
in the creating thought of
blank uncreation

America’s Shame #NRA #SandyHook #Newtown

Posted in arguing with lunatics, days in the life, guns, politics, race with tags , , , , on December 15, 2014 by furious buddha

It has been nearly two years since Adam Lanza killed twenty toddlers and six teachers in Newtown Connecticut. In that time, our nation has made it easier for anyone to get their hands on guns by weakening the existing laws and have made absolutely no effort to improve mental health treatment in this country. We have been treated to demonstrations of treacherous cretins brandishing guns in grocery stores and restaurants who insist that they are making everyone safer by waving their guns around. Even though most Americans agree that this is an unacceptable situation, this vocal minority has short circuited our democracy and imposed the will of a deranged minority upon the rest of us. We are a nation of cowards. Cowards who cling to their guns and the cowards who fear them too much to speak up. A nation of cowards that tortures our captives as a matter of official policy. A nation that is terrified of black people, especially if they’re young.

It is not conflation to bring race into this conversation; consider why the NRA believes it is so important for a person like Adam Lanza to have access to assault rifles but are absolutely silent on the deaths of black citizens at the hands of police? Where has the NRA been to protect the 2nd Amendment rights of Tamir Rice who was shot by police for holding a toy gun? When a white person walks into a restaurant brandishing a personal arsenal they can be confident they have the backing of the NRA to ensure that government tyranny won’t infringe on their very broad interpretation of the Second Amendment; why haven’t we heard the NRA exhorting African-Americans to bear arms for self-defense against government tyranny? After all, when an old white man threatened to shoot federal officers who were trying to get him off of land he was occupying illegally he was a folk hero to these folks; how is a man who was choked to death by police for allegedly trying to avoid a cigarette tax not a hero to anti-government libertarians everywhere? Or is there another fear there?

Fear is the mind-killer; it is the only thing to be feared as it is the only thing that can strip away our humanity. It is not cowardice to feel fear but rather to surrender your reason to it; to be craven is to reduce yourself to a panicked beast. Fear is the root of all evil; it is the mother of rage and daughter of ignorance. All humans feel it but not nearly enough master it. In our fear, we the people of the United States of America have done many terrible things; our refusal to protect our children from our inability to deal with our firearms like adults is the worst one as far as I reckon.

Because the NRA has seen to it that Congress made it illegal for the government to track gun deaths in America, we really don’t know how many Americans have been killed since the atrocity at Sandy Hook, but it has to be in the tens of thousands.



Posted in Uncategorized on December 11, 2014 by furious buddha

Salieri smiles,
resplendent in smug triumph.

at the end of the middle of the week

Posted in days in the life, poetry on December 10, 2014 by furious buddha

wednesday night
slow smoulder after an all day burn
i started with a sermon
its never too late

but i still dont understand mountains
struggling against gravity to
the call of plummeting heights

for lunch an apple a sandwich
& crazy poured into both my ears
for two hours followed by eight

minutes of quiet communion
in a cell with my book
savoring midday light

and then the work,
the work i know best
crafting setups to catch
the perfect callback
whipping up
sawdust pies from scratch
to throw at wealthy dowagers
& finding the perfect punchline
for the climactic fight

then the sacred work
of snacks and bath
& stories and night night

came home to an intriguing tease
in my privatest inbox
& could only give as good i got
but i wanted to write

Epistle on Race in America Now #Ferguson #NYPD #EricGarner #BLACKLIVESMATTER #ICANTBREATHE

Posted in arguing with lunatics, current events, days in the life, politics, race, teh internets with tags , , on December 6, 2014 by furious buddha


I’ve been thinking about your recent post on fb (which I will not publish here without your permission but if it’s cool with you when you read this please copy and paste it into the comments below for the benefit of the other three people in the room with us). I’m sorry that I’m so busy and that I’m not closer; I know you feel the need to see me and I am drawn to see you and talk and see your wife and meet your son and embrace your mother again. Would I impose terribly if I came down to St Louis between Christmas and New Years?

I feel the need to describe the moment I’m in. It’s Thursday afternoon and I’ve finished at the Clown Factory. I have twenty minutes from eight minutes ago before I need to go pick up Little Tony from daycare. Today I started the day anticipating the return of the American manned space program and felt some disappointment that the launch was scrubbed until tomorrow. It was a good day at work but the mimes remain annoying.

Then I saw the news about the grand jury in New York that decided that Daniel Pantaleo, the police officer who killed Eric Garner, shouldn’t be indicted. Eric Garner was a man who  was suspected by police of selling cigarettes illegally. Not crates of cigarettes. Not cartons of cigarettes. Just individual cigarettes from a pack he had bought legally. This is the crime that the police were harassing him for. These are his last words on this Earth as captured by a bystanders cell phone:


I have to go get Little Dude.

Little Dude is finishing dinner. We stopped at the store and picked up some food. They have these miniature shopping carts and it is so amazingly adorable. He’s finished up and needs a bath. Then snuggles and bed. Give me a little minute; okay, he’s in the bath, the laptops on the toilet and I’m on the floor in-between. We’re listening to the ‘Awesome Mix Vol 1′ from ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’. We’re burning him a similar mix for Christmas; a CD for my car and a cassette for Julia’s car of all his favorite songs from this year.

Here’s the thing, Brother Kenny Lazarus; I understand your hope.

Sorry. Poopies interrupted. I just finished singing him down to sleep and cleaning up. I’m back home, having some tea. It’s around 10:40.

It’s not that I don’t share your hope on some level because of course I do; but this is because we have wonderful lives of privilege based on our birth that engender hope. It’s not that I think you’re naive but rather that you see the path so clearly that sometimes it is difficult for you to see how obscured the way is for most. The problem is that enough people aren’t feeling outraged; they think that it would be so much better if everyone would just politely settle down and accept the story of the man who referred to the eighteen year old boy he shot as an ‘it’ who he believed was ‘bulking up’ to ‘run through the shots’ at him. The grand jury was a farce. Michael Wilson was nearly half a football field away from Darren Wilson and retreating when the fatal shots were fired; the illogic of how that could possibly be an act of self-defense doesn’t even seem to register with people. Even if Michael Brown made a grab for his weapon, the killing shots cannot possibly be justifiable. I have been twice involved in situations where a disturbed individual made a grab for a police officer’s gun; neither incident was resolved with a summary execution.

Hang on. Julia is here.

It’s 5:30 on Friday afternoon. The NYPD is blaming Eric Garner for his death.

The absence of legal segregation is nothing to celebrate; the bar needs to be much higher than that. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times; history doesn’t repeat but it rhymes. After the brief moment during Reconstruction when black skinned people were allowed to hold political office throughout the U.S. Jim Crow smothered African-Americans with legal Apartheid for nearly a century; Obama’s election was an historical fluke that blindsided people and the eruption of aggressive racism and efforts to disenfranchise African-Americans since his election has a very unsettling familiarity to me. Obama can’t make us better. We have to make ourselves better.

Evil is banal and tepid; it thrives in room temperature apathy and grows large in comfortable indifference. Evil doesn’t want anyone to make a fuss. The truth is rude. Lies are polite. Christ was beaten and murdered by the legal authorities with the blessing of the religious authorities and the whole thing was endorsed by the mob. The only person Jesus ever personally guaranteed He would see in Heaven was the thief hanging on the cross next to Him. It is impossible for me to reconcile my faith with blind obedience to authority or condemnation of sinners and stray souls. Authority must be able to justify itself; anything else is tyranny.

There is a time for overturning tables and chasing thieves from the temple. I want you to keep raising your voice, brother. It’s so much stronger than you believe.

Julia needs me to go over to her place to warm up the oven; I’m having dinner with her, Little Dude and Giant Hippie. This seems as good a place as any to say good night. But then I came back about an hour ago, put on ‘Guardians’ for the fifth time this week (I love this movie. Can’t wait for the Blu-ray) had some tea and played a little Civ. Then I reread this before I push the button and give it teh internets. Then I fell asleep without pushing the button. It’s Saturday morning now.

Some conservatives have been complaining about the media attention to this subject as if the problem is noticing the brutal racism in our law enforcement system; this is why it is important that everyone of conscience wakes up and speaks clearly.

My unlimited love to y’all,


this soup is delicious

Posted in days in the life, poetry on December 2, 2014 by furious buddha

this soup is delici-
-ous. thank you so very much.
I mean damn, it’s good.

the unindicted blues

Posted in current events, politics, race with tags , on November 24, 2014 by furious buddha

this is why the people
won’t trust the system
that is broken down
and breaks them down

it ain’t easy to live on the thin blue line
but he called the kid over to his cruiser
and emptied his clip like a gangsta
left the dead kid lying in the street
like he wasn’t a son, just some meat
and the grand jury took their sweet time
to get it straight with the party line
that killer was just doing his job
keeping the community safe
by making those parents sob
and now they got a case
of the unindicted blues


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