our system’s sun

Native American activists in the Dakotas seeking to defend their lifeblood waters are being met by a militarized police force whose goal is to defend the short-term financial gains of a multinational corporate entity. This should not surprise anyone - since its inception, the American republic has abused, marginalized, and stolen from the indigenous tribespeople who originally inhabited Turtle Island (the North American continent). Previously, the Sioux tribe was forced violently from its ancestral lands by the U.S. military so that Americans of European Descent (i.e. white people) could take over the fields and valleys the tribe had for millennia groomed, tamed, and settled. Now, in the previously unwanted territories to which it was sent, the Sioux tribe is again under assault, this time so that an oil pipeline can be dug into its sacred soils and under its treasured rivers. Using technologies to capture and utilize solar power, America could run entirely on the nearly endless supply of fresh energy that arrives each morning from Sol, our system’s sun. Instead, America runs on old sunlight trapped by plants long ago in formations now buried deep below the earth - black, viscous old sunlight that must be pumped from deep underground before being moved often thousands of miles to refineries and storage dumps by pipeline, train, or truck. If each Ynki home or business were to collect its own solar electricity and use that self-generated power to cook food, make heat, or run electric automobiles, each Ynki home or business would become independent of (and by necessity take profits away from) the corporations that control this nation’s energy economy. These corporations want to make sure that American homes and businesses run on old and dirty rather than new and clean sunlight, since, this way, they get paid for each watt of energy used. Therefore, they spend untold millions of dollars lobbying against investment and research in solar-energy technologies; such technologies could upend their market dominance and disrupt their profit margins, and they will do nearly anything to maintain their stranglehold on consumer freedom. It bothers them not that the fluids containing old sunlight, if allowed to flow freely, tend to poison the land and pollute the waters - the only thing that matters to these corporations is that the Ynki simply can’t do without what they are selling and that he will pay a high price to maintain his addiction. If a person is concerned about the sad state of affairs in the Dakotas but cannot join the Standing Rock Sioux at their water protection sites, he ought consider reducing the amount of old sunlight he uses by heating less and driving fewer miles. Additionally, he ought contact his elected representatives and demand they work toward the adoption of solar energy initiatives instead of acquiescing to the demands of petroleum (old sunlight) producers. Stand strong, brave Sioux brothers and sisters rallying at Oceti Sakowin - this American author recognizes your sacrifice, and thanks you for it. Mahalo.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

𐃝|._☐-¡￬⟰￬¡-☐_.|𐃝

with thanking behind them and giving ahead they wrapped the last presents then headed to bed

𐀤ꜛџ=☼⌶.ᚒ.⌶☼=џꜛ𐀤

that bread on the counter is horribly stale; let’s soften its stiffness with honeywine ale

what mother taught

Thinking recently about my own legacy - those writings and other works I shall leave behind once this mortal body ceases to function - I realized with a shock that though I am a living embodiment of it not I nor my siblings maintain or share our mother’s legacy. She passed away 15 years ago, her withered body abused terribly by ALS. The following are some memories.


She taught me an old seaman’s trick - how to tie a shoe so that the knot opens easily but doesn’t slip - one brisk fall day on a sidewalk in downtown Shamokin, Pennsylvania.
She told me once that I would need to find a special kind of girl, one who would be able to deal with my peculiarities. At 14 years old I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I’m beginning to understand now, at 39.
She was cutting my hair once on the back patio of our house in Lichtenfels, Bavaria, and although she had just started I asked her if she was already done. With rare hints of anger in her voice, she told me to just sit still and let her work. I taught myself how to cut my own hair soon after that.
Figuring that I would be a bachelor for most of my adult life, she taught me how to mend my clothing with needle and thread as well as how to cook simple but nutritious meals and do laundry.
I learned from her that it’s feasible to ride a bicycle in all sorts of nasty weather.
She cared for me when I was very young and raised me with loving firmness and quick compassion.
She exhibited a profound calm in the face of adversity that I can only hope to mimic, never match.
She said I gave her little difficulty during birth, that I all but slid out, ready to take on the world. My first act was to pee on the doctor.

This is difficult to write. I shall share more soon. Mahalo.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

⌶+￬.=ī¡⥞¤⥟¡ī=.￬+⌶

there’s not much a fellow might strive for in life than knowing his artwork and love will survive

logic & meditation

Certain old teachings encourage their reader to be still inside, to seek a silence in the mind. One benefit of a quiet mind is that it tells itself fewer stories than a mind consumed with labeling and categorizing what it sees and senses around it. This is important because the human often tells herself stories in situations unusual or potentially dangerous, then tends to keep living according the rules of these stories long after the spectre of harm has passed. By repeating to herself such stories, such logic parameters, she shapes her perception of the world, which in turn shapes the world around her. Into a still mind engaged in meditation frequently blossom old and unwanted logic parameters, at which point they can be tasted of and measured before being gradually broken down and replaced with logic parameters that serve to improve the life and surroundings of the person thinking them. A person who sits quietly in the dark and the depressing thoughts is a person basking in happiness, surrendered unto a core of loving indifference. Confronting long-standing and stagnant logic parameters is a tricky business, one that requires constant vigilance and true grit, but it rarely results in outright death, wherefore I shall continue.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

high and lofty

Genius flirts with danger when the foe is proved a hollow friend assuming mantles high and lofty using tones not wise or softly. Woe to us and woe worldwide for goodness has from within died replaced instead by ill foreboding caused by fearful persons’ voting. Hurry forth or stay inside to bask in bloody hateful pride of skin-tone, birthright heritage, spite, greediness, and privilege. Onward now this lumber beast that spans the lands from west to east that gobbles up earthen resources with its armed and angry forces. None might stop it none shall dare into its beady eyes to stare this nation-state which we call home that stands not righteous but alone.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

on packing - briefly

The contents of both bags are laid out and double-checked, each item inspected and thought over to make sure it is not redundant, that it will actually be used. Though the trip is scheduled to last nearly a month, enough clothes are being packed for only one week; an overseas laundry run or two is in my future. The destination is tropical, so mostly shorts and shirts are spread out on the table next to my bed, but I throw in a light sweatshirt to protect me in air-conditioned spaces like my commute to the airport, the airport itself, and fancier hotels (although I prefer to stay local). Such items as flip-flops and boardshorts are fairly cheap and ruin quickly, so I plan to buy them on site. I lay out my clothes a few days before departure, inspecting them occasionally as time goes by, pulling out single-purpose items and replacing them with ones that can perform multiple roles, that can be worn in concert with one another. A light shawl makes the cut, as it can serve to warm my body as well as protect it from the sun. By the morning of my departure, I have whittled down the number of clothes so greatly that there is room enough in both bags for gifts and mementos bought en route. Streamlined, prepared, and raring to go, I make my way toward the bus line that will take me to the airport, adjusting my shawl and light sweatshirt to keep me warm in the blowing snow and being careful not to fall and break a hip on the icy sidewalks. With visions of sun-drenched beaches dancing in front of my eyes, I greet the driver, board his bus, pay my fare, and venture off toward parts as-yet unexplored (by me).

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

on logic - update

For the past couple of weeks I have been exploring and tasting and trying to better understand the stories I tell myself, the logic-parameters within which I go about my daily business. Many of these logic parameters I set up around the age of five years old, in the wake of a sexual assault visited upon me by a shady, rapist neighbor. I was groped and abused then told to never tell anyone, on pain of death. Around the same time (because he apparently didn’t know, or bother to try and find out, how else to deal with the changes in my behavior) my father became psychologically abusive toward me. I was doing poorly in school; I had become overly sensitive to external stimuli (especially deep-voiced men); I was having trouble concentrating in general; and it seems that he thought that by being mean and spiteful toward me he could snap me out of it and somehow fix me. Now, almost 35 years later, I am still trying to fit the pieces of my psyche back together in the aftermath of the Big Shatter - being fed the Fruit of Forbidden Knowledge at too young an age. I gained from these traumatic childhood experiences a number of things, among them a strong empathy toward and desire to protect individuals downtrodden and weak; a nearly photographic memory of conversations and situations; a passionate dislike for and lack of fear of authority figures; the ability to make small children smile, and feel safe; the ability to detect - with a glance - sexual perversion in adult males; the ability to see beyond what the eye can usually see (such as where energies within the body are not flowing smoothly) that borders on the power to read minds. These abilities are of course counter-balanced by appropriate and equal disabilities, most of them existing in the form of the logical parameters I use to interact with the world - especially with women whom I find attractive. I have given myself until the rising of the next full moon on 14 November 2016 to explore and taste of these logical parameters so that I may start to heal myself more fully, and would like to profess my utter thanks and profound gratitude to the Lunar Goddesses of the Many Faiths who have watched over and sheltered me along this path. Mahalo, and om swastiastu.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

on Trump’s win

To all of my non-American friends around the world: I did not vote for Donald Trump, nor do I support him now. I think Donald will make a terrible president. A proto-fascist with little regard for either the opinions of mankind or the notions of kindness and respect for others, Donald is the one person (out of nearly 330 millions!) whom the American people should never have elected. Riding to power on a wave of hatred-for-others and buoyed by a strong fervor of Eurocentric racism (that was brought to this land by Christopher Columbus in the year 1492), Donald in one sense embodies the idea that Americans of Northern European Descent are alone entitled to the promise and possibility of the American dream. In another sense, Donald is a genius for capturing the mood of the moment and exploiting the fears of working-class citizens to get himself elected to this nation’s highest post. He will not protect or uphold the Constitution, for he has apparently never read it and definitely does not understand what it is designed to do. He will likely trample upon the hard-won rights and privileges of the following communities: Latino; African-American; Muslim; Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, & Curious (LGBTQC); living women of childbearing age; as well as free-thinking and independent writers and other artists such as this author himself.

To my brothers and sisters of the Muslim faith - when Donald’s Death Squads come for you, I will do my best to keep you from harm. To my brothers and sisters of Latino descent - when Donald’s Deportation Squads come for you, I will do my best to keep you in this country. Do not despair, fellow lovers of liberty, for if history is any guide, fascist dictators such as Donald Trump cannot hold onto power for much longer than a decade and a half before the weight of their crimes drags them down into the abyss. Do not give up hope, but let love shine in your hearts, for love is eternal and immutable, the one act we can do for ourselves and our misguided neighbors that will prove that a shred of humanity still exists within the American experiment. Now is not the end of our struggles but the beginning. Hold fast and stay frosty.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場

on presidential selections

Dear fellow Ynki citizens:

As you vote on 8 November 2016, please remember that America is a constitutional republic that tends to operate using certain quasi-democratic institutions. The presidency is not one of those institutions. Americans do not elect their president - the president is selected by the Electoral College, which is in turn made up of persons chosen by the U.S. Senate. This part of the American system of government was set up this way to keep the uneducated masses - the base rabble - from choosing for their highest post a feeble-minded demagogue or a warmongering know-it-all. As currently those are the only feasible options, however, the system’s failures are becoming glaringly apparent. For the most part, the system is not to blame. Rather, we must blame the politicians who for nearly three centuries have altered and amended the original Constitution for their own short-term purposes and gains - those worthless scumbags are responsible for the promise of the American experiment imploding slowly before our eyes. A lumbering Hindenburg of ineptitude, corruption, and greed burning with sickening slowness, it will drag us little people down with it. We are reaping what we sowed - or allowed others to sow for us - and have only ourselves to blame for not demanding sooner a return to the founding principles of equality and justice, a retreat from aggressive war-making on sovereign nations, domestic and foreign alike. From U.S. government agents fighting First Peoples seeking to protect their sacred waters in the Dakotas to U.S. government agents fighting in support of the terrorist group known as Daesh (formerly ISIS, ISIL, and Islamic State) in Syria and Iraq, the balance of U.S. government action lies squarely in the negative realm. How much longer will we little people put up with this? Likely until the two political parties we have given a stranglehold on the lives of nearly 330 million American citizens are forced to share their power, that’s how long.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

on achieving lotus

After years of practice - stretching and bending, pushing and wincing - I am finally able to sit in half-lotus. It occurred yesterday at a friend’s house when I entered his living room to find all chairs occupied. Taking a seat cross-legged on the carpeted floor, I knew in the Hidden Place of Secret Knowing that - without pain or strenuous effort - I could fold one foot under me and deposit the other one on top of the opposing leg’s inner thigh. I cannot explain how I knew I could do this, only that my body had figured it out and given me the go-ahead via channels of communication that work with feelings rather than words. Praise and thanks be to the forces in this and the other realms that helped me reach this milestone. I’m excited for the challenges to come. Huzzah!

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥