Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Saturday, July 28, 2018
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
Sunday, July 8, 2018
Monday, July 2, 2018
Monday, June 25, 2018
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
I never participated very much or commented on other peoples writings online until I found The Iron Legion Blog - Those writings and ideas where very inspiring - They clicked with me and pushed just the right buttons at just the right time...but - There wont be another site like it and I don't know if It's writer, Simon, will return... but... it seems... my comment posting days are over.
This was originally posted yesterday as a comment on another blog...
but... it did not survive for long
My opinions and writings belong at the Deringer Files anyway
where those who want to read them can find them.
Sometimes the best way to find yourself is to loose yourself...
and if you can loose yourself in the magic of an ancient forest – still and quiet and far from the problems of the modern world, lonely but for the creatures it cradles in the night... a place that was there before you were born and will be there long after the world has lost it's memory of you... a place that still carries the echos of the myths left behind from the wanderers that came before you... even better.
In such a place you can loose yourself and find yourself over and over... and over again.
There you can cleanse your mind and your soul and your body from the toxic progressive madness of the cities and the suburbs and the zombie horde that dwell within on their uninspired mindless consumer rush to the slaughter house... no friends... you were made for something greater... and the visions of it wait for you there in the thick quiet of nature... there where the songs of mystic warriors that are your ancestors still lingers... you just have to abandon your fears and technology and let go of the things you think you need and wander into that lost kingdom were the weak dare not go without their smart phones and GPS and air mattresses.
The quest is nothing more than simplicity – a noble enough venture for your first outing that will easily be found siting beside a fire. Throw some sausages and cheese into a bag with bread and jam or peanut butter, some fruit – berries, apples, oranges... water... don't forget your hygiene... a good book to read – something inspiring... a classic perhaps – “Ivanhoe” or “Idles of the King”... “Lord of the Rings”... take a journal to right in... a sleeping bag or just a good blanket, a tent (or not)... matches, compass, first aid kit... the spirit of adventure and the curiosity of the boy you once were.
Two days... three days... is all you need to be reborn - the wandering of the mind and spirit till you find a place to rest... learning how to breathe again and how to listen to that voice of your true self that you lost when the world brought you to your knees and forced you to conform and corralled you with the rest of the heard... the cleansing... the ritual of fire and smoke – offer up a sacrifice and a prayer to your God... and your ancestors... the gratitude for your blessings and your food... the communion – dig your fingers into the soil... stroke the leaves and branches and petals... place your palm on the trunk of a tree and listen for it's story... try to recognize the face staring back at you in the water... hunch down in the grass and watch the world through the eyes of a beast... a wolf... a lion... the baptism (if and when it comes), is the moment you realize who and what you are... were you belong... where you are going... what you were created for – you won't find those answers doing a google search... but you will get nearer to it in the wild.
It could be in the desert, up a mountain, in an endless valley... out at sea, or in the woods... any where as long as it is far from where crowds gather – where you will find the voice waiting for those with ears to hear – the voice of inspiration... motivation... exaltation...
Buddha abandoned his kingdom in search of the cause of suffering and under the leaves of a fig tree he heard the voice. Moses went up a mountain where he heard the voice and later lingered there until he received the law from his God. Jesus walked out into the waste lands to be tempted by Satan and he found his strength. Knights of old drifted into the forest to rest and regain their strength in their solitude... That is where the myths are born – what will you be when you walk out of the church of nature... a poet... a knight on a quest for greatness, a priest or monk or prophet... a warrior god returned from the whispers of the distant past to conquer and destroy and build a new world?
What indeed shall you be when you come back to the chaos.
Saturday, June 9, 2018
Wednesday, June 6, 2018
by Robert William Service
Have you gazed on naked grandeur
where there's nothing else to gaze on,
Set pieces and drop-curtain scenes galore,
Big mountains heaved to heaven,
which the blinding sunsets blazon,
Black canyons where the rapids rip and roar?
Have you swept the visioned valley
with the green stream streaking through it,
Searched the Vastness for a something you have lost?
Have you strung your soul to silence?
Then for God's sake go and do it;
Hear the challenge, learn the lesson, pay the cost.
Have you wandered in the wilderness,
the sagebrush desolation,
The bunch-grass levels where the cattle graze?
Have you whistled bits of rag-time
at the end of all creation,
And learned to know the desert's little ways?
Have you camped upon the foothills,
have you galloped o'er the ranges,
Have you roamed the arid sun-lands through and through?
Have you chummed up with the mesa?
Do you know its moods and changes?
Then listen to the Wild -- it's calling you.
Have you known the Great White Silence,
not a snow-gemmed twig aquiver?
(Eternal truths that shame our soothing lies.)
Have you broken trail on snowshoes?
mushed your huskies up the river,
Dared the unknown, led the way, and clutched the prize?
Have you marked the map's void spaces,
mingled with the mongrel races,
Felt the savage strength of brute in every thew?
And though grim as hell the worst is,
can you round it off with curses?
Then hearken to the Wild -- it's wanting you.
Have you suffered, starved and triumphed,
groveled down, yet grasped at glory,
Grown bigger in the bigness of the whole?
"Done things" just for the doing,
letting babblers tell the story,
Seeing through the nice veneer the naked soul?
Have you seen God in His splendors,
heard the text that nature renders?
(You'll never hear it in the family pew.)
The simple things, the true things,
the silent men who do things --
Then listen to the Wild -- it's calling you.
They have cradled you in custom,
they have primed you with their preaching,
They have soaked you in convention through and through;
They have put you in a showcase;
you're a credit to their teaching --
But can't you hear the Wild? -- it's calling you.
Let us probe the silent places,
let us seek what luck betide us;
Let us journey to a lonely land I know.
There's a whisper on the night-wind,
there's a star agleam to guide us,
And the Wild is calling, calling...
let us go.
Far, Far away Soria Moria Palace
Glimmered like Gold
Monday, May 28, 2018
First I want to let it be publicly known that I am with Tommy... and this situation is what the western world has to be very worried about, for I am certain that it will spread to other "free" countries... this could be the spark that lights the fire or it could be curtains for free speech... we'll have to wait and see, my friends
Second. I want to thank those who still let me comment on their sites - seems my comments have been banned in five popular sites now... I know they can get too long, and I tend to ramble and sometimes take the long way 'round to make my point and sometimes I even forget what the hell the point was... it happens... but for whatever reason, other writers have chosen that my comments (or perhaps your cousin Dash in general) are not welcome... so be it...
At CrusaderRabbit today on the Topic of Tommy Robinson I said:
Sunday, May 27, 2018
Thursday, May 17, 2018
Wednesday, May 16, 2018
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
Water droplets from a clear sky
Here's a first in strange things that I have experienced.
Last night at 2:00am I stepped out to take some garbage bags out to the side walk – I had placed the bins out for pick-up earlier, I was up reading and before I turned in I remembered I still had the bags from my room and the bathrooms to take out.
As soon as I walked through the gate of the front patio I felt a small water drop hit my shoulder – I thought nothing of it and kept walking down the path to the side walk but with every step I took I kept feeling water droplets hit my arms and neck I stopped to look up and the sky was clear with bright stars above me... I looked around carefully to see if there was any fog or mist – nothing... I reach the trash bins and toss in my bags and I turn around slowly to make my way back into the house...
I walk up the path very, very slow with my arms out feeling these water drops – they are not big, it feels like I am being sprayed by some water bottle sprayer – can't explain it really... like I was walking through a soft spraying water sprinkler – just a mist of water drops... I am not soaking wet and I can feel my body cooling down as if the drops of water evaporated instantly.
Half way up the walk way I stop and look around again. I look down at the pavement and it is dry. I walk onto the grass and it is dry... again, no clouds, no wind, not even a breeze, there is nothing in the sky but stars and no one around but me...
Even this morning I can not come up with some reason for it... and I am not sure exactly how to feel about the event... for some reason this keeps bringing to mind an event that I experienced recently but do not know if the two are connected – that event I am not sure at all how to explain even to myself as it concerns my memories – I most definitely trust my memories
On April 17, I noticed that a plant holder which I have always known and remember to have been made of white ceramic blocks turned into old wooden block... I am very sure of my memories of the ceramic blocks as I always looked at that plant holder carefully for it's good design – the eyes are drawn to it because it sits on the side of the shed in the middle of a row of dark Terracotta pots... so it stands out and I always look at it so I know for certain what it was made of and what it looked like... now that plant holder is made of wooded blocks that have just a hint of stained white paint on them - it is not as attractive as it was in my memories and I do not know what to make of it... there is also the case of the “holy shirts”
I had three old button downs that had holes in them, one on the sleeve and the others down toward the bottom I had folded them and put them in a plastic bag to tear up later for cleaning rags ( this was over two months ago), when I finely went to use the first one to use for wiping down some yard tools I noticed that it had no hole... I checked the other two and their holes were no longer there... these were perfectly good shirts... what the hell was going on here... this freaked my out a bit and I did not hesitate in my decision to just through those shirts away... I wanted to burn them but I just threw them away – I wanted to have nothing to do with them... I trust my memories... and I try to dismiss strange things like this but sometimes it is just hard too... all you can do is go on with your life and hope nothing too damn weird happens... but in my life the weird is a regular thing... but don't f*ck with my memories of things because that just pisses me off... gas-lighting – probably the devils best trick...
But the water sprinkles... it actual felt pretty good for a strange event... good or bad...
Monday, May 14, 2018
Wednesday, May 9, 2018
there have always been stories in Mexico and even as far south as Chile about a white tribe in ancient days - and I have always believed it to be true... a gut feeling. even my own shaman talks about a white tribe and has even told me stories of his spiritual awakening when wandering a mountain he stumbled upon a cave and there he met a white Indian who showed him the path to enlightenment.
and if you have the time also check out Robert Sepehr's
Rethinking the Peopling of the Americas
Rethinking the Peopling of the Americas