Towards infinity

Looking carefully at fear, I am left with one thing, that my conscious self is very fearful in contemplating its own oblivion and, being driven by self-cherishing, that is almost too much to bear. 

The antidote must be to find a life of creativity, good-humor, and service as it is through these devices I am able to escape despair and paradoxically find oblivion in this present moment in my life and in compassion.

But the antidote is only temporary. The self that appears as a reaction to events can be observed as it experiences feelings and constructs a storyline and action to protect or promote its interests. The question occupying the observer should be "Is this self my existent center, or does it only appear as a thought/feeling process when there is a threat or some advantage to be had?"

A National Treasure

Just saw Alan Bennett's "The Lady in the Van," delightfully quirky, following on from his "The History Boys" and "The Madness of King George III," only with the latter the "III" dropped so as not to confuse American audiences. Anyway, good insights into the eccentricities of the English, all of them. Maybe we'll see Helen Mirren in "An Uncommon Reader" next? Alan Bennett, a national treasure...

How does one fight Evil without infection?

Looking at the current confected crisis in the Arabian/Persian Gulf, I see the Sunnis treating their Shi'ia minority like 1930's Jews. So similar to the treatment meted out to our own minority, African-Americans or, for that matter, the present treatment of Palestinians in Eretz Israel including the territories of Judea and Samaria.

It seems that ethnic prejudice is a driving force in our conflicts...

I do care and struggle occasionally with this nettle of injustice praying not to be consumed or weakened by drama and causes that would detract from my physical recovery from food addiction. That defines the essence of recovery for me. To be unselfish and lovingly kind to all..

It seems vital to live inclusively and unseparated from the source of love that binds us together. 

Saudi - Thoughts about Change

Reflecting on my time in Arabia in the 1970s... In those days I knocked around with the Jalahmah clan who used to rule Bahrein until the Khalifas pushed them out. 

Well, a lot of water has gone under the bridge since then. A causeway has been built from Khobar to Manama, the majority Shi'ia have demonstrated against the ruling kleptocracy, the Saudi Army has intervened and the Saudi Shi'ia of Hasa, the oil bearing Eastern Province have expressed solidarity with their Bahreini brothers. 

Now their leader, Nimr al Nimr, has been executed (one of 47 by beheading in one day) ordered by the Saudi King! You can expect some strong reaction from Iran over this...

Things are slowly coming to a boil. The crushing of Daesh in the Syrian desert will return some hot-head Salafis to Saudi, the Shi'ia of Hasa, no doubt, are feeling the pressure, and the Houthi/Saudi war in Yemen has done little more than to inadvertently strengthen alQueda there. All we need now is a third intifada to protest the ethnic cleansing and stealing land the Israeli policy follows and we will have such a big mess, intervention or non-intervention will be just as bad. 

As a footnote, on the Tarut island beach at Sunnabis, a Palestinian friend once remarked to me "the oil farms at R'as Tanura are only a anti-tank rocket's flight away."

Just to the north of R'as Tanura, I once visited Rahima, a village so named for Abdul Rahman Al Jalahmah. He was regarded as a pirate by the British when they were subjecting the coast to Pax Brittanica. He blew himself and a British warship out of the water by setting off gunpowder in his dhow. A brave man and indicative of the sense of local pride and history of this area on which we now depend for oil.

Ways of Seeing and Portraits...

Some while ago, I was thrilled at reading a Marxist view of art, "Ways of Seeing," by John Berger. It was a breathtaking canvas uncovering the misogyny of ownership of the female form, of the difference between nudity and nakedness and the later democratization of that ownership. It was stunning and original and, I have learned since, now required reading for Art majors.

I'm pleased to have acquired his latest creation, "Portraits," a series of essays about artists from ancient times to the post-modernists. 

One lovely essay particularly delighted me being about the funerary art of Fayyum. Their particular charm being that they were never intended for our general gaze, but were a contract between the anonymous painter and the person who wanted their life likeness recorded to be later placed on their coffin and interred.

These beautiful portraits can be seen on the web...

Dealing with God

I recently read an email from a friend who, after twenty years in a 12-step recovery program, had to leave because of the prevailing climate of the program is so insistent on framing its literature and mode of thinking around an Abrahamic God.

The program is rigorous by necessity, it follows a severe Protestant interpretation of God and, despite its insistence on being spiritual rather than bound by any one religion, is unashamedly and strongly linked to The Oxford Group whose rigor equals that of Opus Dei.

It is, as my friend says, the tyranny of the majority, denying its Christian bias and punishing people if they do not enjoy the cool-aid. Her spiritual journey, she described, was one of self-discovery, of realizing that a non-theistic, Buddhist path spoke to her...and that coming out was akin to a declaration of being gay. Only, in this case, the family disapproved.

So, here we have intolerance and rejection in a recovery movement, which some would make a cult. The literature and pervading pressure for spiritual uniformity is as oppressive as the mindless fear that drives it.

The Queen’s Art Expert

Remember when the British Soviet spies, Burgess and McClean, hightailed it to Moscow after their cover was blown...and the third man, Kim Philby, disappeared from Beirut on a ship to Odessa, well there was a fourth man and his name was Anthony Blunt. 

Urbane and Patrician, Blunt was the Communist recruiter for the other three, yet he did no time nor suffered ignominy. In fact, having been outed in 1963, he continued as art advisor to Queen Elizabeth and accepted at the top tables in English society.

Why such kid-glove treatment when men less connected did prison terms for traitorous deeds?

The answer is simple and it all goes back to another British traitor, Edward, Duke of Windsor. 

Remember, he was the guy that married Wallis Simpson who later cuckolded him with whomever was discretely available. Edward was probably homosexual and definitely a Nazi sympathizer...

And what's that to do with our communist, art historian, Blunt?

Evidently, Edward, or David as he was called, paid a visit to the German Embassy in then neutral Holland and spilled the beans on Allied preparations for countering the German plans for invasion. German documents reveal their knowledge of this and it was Blunt, as a member of MI5, who was dispatched to Berlin in '45 to sweep up the proof of his foolish flirtation with evil.

Thus the soft touch later when Blunt was revealed as a Soviet agent. He had tabs on the Royals and they needed to take care of someone who could embarrass. So why break open the silenced pistols when a glass or two of mature claret and convivial conversation would do the trick.

Honi soit qui mal y pense.