What happened?
Flyer with all the pertinent details (prs.org) |
He pointed out that Native Americans do not view the Fourth of July in the same way as other American. Rather than a celebration of liberty, it is commemorated with indigenous practices revived after long, slow and ongoing genocide, occupation, apartheid, and erasure.
A view of the venue from the second floor, Manly P. Hall's Library of World Religions, PRS. |
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The evening called on six artists to articulate visions of America by reading famous works and presenting their own recent work. Seven combined the prompt with a deft homage (parody) to British poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge and perhaps his greatest poem, "Kubla Khan."The Hacking of the American Mind |
Few seem to realize there are two kinds, as pointed out by Dr. Robert Lustig, MD, in his breakthrough publication The Hacking of the American Mind: The Science Behind the Corporate Takeover of Our Bodies and Brains. We either compulsively seek more dopamine hits (from our cell phones, risks, social media, hookups, hits, and drugs of abuse) or we breathe into a long-term happiness mediated by serotonin. It's short-term thrill vs. serene contentment, paper fire vs. wood fire.
To teach or not to teach? |
Once in Ajapala, in the weeks following his "Great Awakening" (the maha-bodhi under the bodhi tree), reflecting on life, the universe, and everything, the Buddha came to the decision that he should remain silent, rapt in bliss, and not vex himself trying to teach anyone what he had discovered was possible in terms of human freedom and happiness.
Ah! Just this bliss, this rest, this nirvana is enough |
What do you want? |
Consolidating these disparate ideas, Seven said: We have life, or some version of it, and civil liberties but only when we fight for them. And the carrot dangled in front of us, cradle to grave, is just this: Life, Liberty and the PURSUIT of Happiness. I am a merry Can or, as some would say, an AmeriCan't.
I'm free to try to find it any way I can |
Wishing to both break the ice and introduce the subtext of the poem, and given that we were at the Philosophical Research Society, Seven led with a brief philosophical riddle: A merry Can or A merry CON? "If you're American when you arrive, and American when you leave, what are you when you're in the bathroom?" (European).
Kubla Khan/A Merry Can
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
A state of her own pleasure decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Where white the moistened waters ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Through a cavern immeasurable to man
Down to a sunless sea.
Down to a sunless deep.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
Thus twice divide child's fertile mound
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
And here were toys bright with bells 'n whistles,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
Where unraveled many an ecstasy;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
And there were garters damp as the dills
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
Below folds, a narrow strip of slippery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
But O! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
A savage gash! a hole enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
As air breathed by waxing moon that taunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
Cries of a woman wailing for her deadened-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
And round this chasm, with unceasing circles seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
As if this post into moist thick pants were seeping,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Amid a slit that half-intermitted burst;
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Huge sounds bounced, red, rebounding wail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
All chaffed in pain beneath her threshing flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
She mid-trance rocked at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
And flung up suddenly her sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Wide smiles trembling, her head in mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Through wooden dill the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
Then reached the cavern immeasurable to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And sank in sweet foam into a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
And ’mid this tumult bubbles oozed hard
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
A merry Can’s voice, a banshee’s AAH!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
The shallow pant of her own pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
As she floated midway away
Where was heard the mingled measure
Was the curse of her own tinkled treasure
From the fountain and the caves.
After the fountain from her cave.
It was a miracle of rare device,
It was a miracle of randy device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A sultry pleasure owned to melt a cave of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
A damsel with a dull peter
In a vision once I saw:
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid
It was her and a marital aid
And on her dulcimer she played,
And on her dull peter she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Singing as she’d mount amore.
Could I revive within me
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
Her liberty and song,
To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
That with video loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
I would build to my own for e’er,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And sultry own that cave of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all who heard should then be scared,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
His flashing eye, its fulsome hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
Weaving round my own device,
And close your eyes with holy dread
And close my eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
For I on honey dew have fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
And spilled the milk of Paradise.
- Have we established the roots to be happy? There's a famous Buddhist saying, according to KFI's Gary Hoffman, that runs: "The best time to plant a tree is 30 years ago; the second-best time is right now."
LA's Joan of Arc Toypurina |
A Boy Named Sioux
Modern Native American kids of the San Fernando Valley, Tataviam of Haramokngna |
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While we Tongva gathered bear fangs,arrowheads and beads,
the Chumash would play at
collecting trinkets from the sea --
iridescent shells, bones, serrated shark teeth....
We envied their seafaring horde
gathered from far off lands --
as far out to sea as one could see,
as far out to sea as canoes could reach.
"Did you gather these on those distant isles?"
"Our hunting grounds are secret," they replied.
"'Secret'? We can see them from here!" we insisted....
The Chumash envied us our magical motherlode,
as smooth as a well-worn maize millstone,
and we their sea-fangs as sharp as chipped basalt,
warrior talismans invested with the skill of the hunt.
They found theirs, they said, bleached on the beach,
cast off by the sea, in rows,
with sinewy flesh shriveling away in the surf.
Again and again, they ask: "Who are your name?"
What is your people?"
Again and again, I explain:
"They call me Sioux, Red Xochitl,
and my people come from beyond the Plain."
They boys laugh, "Sue! Sue!"
and the Chumash girls bow their heads, grinning....
The Tongva (Gabrielino Indians) lived next to their friends the Chumash, meeting in Malibu. |
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Map of Tovaangar (pre-Los Angeles) |
There were other Indian bands because, when the British arrived on the East Coast, there were 100,000,000 (one hundred million) Natives living throughout this "empty" land ripe for the taking, just as when European Ashkenazi Jews went to Palestine and found it completely empty with not "a people" in sight. Thus did yet another genocide begin.
When one decides to steal land, it seems a prerequisite to tell oneself one is not taking it from anyone, and anyone who says any different you call an "antisemite" and dismiss their criticism immediately. Only, in the USA we would instead say, "Sure, there were a few Injuns, but 'Manifest Destiny'."
Seven wrapped up with a reading of "Redskin Xochitl," published in Yay! LA Arts & Culture Magazine.
Music
Then the band, the duet Lael Neale and Guy Blakeslee, got to play its first song. She's from Virginia, so their tunes and covers had a hit of Americana reminiscent of The Flying Tourbillion Orchestra.
- Experience Guy Blakeslee's Electric Soundbath, Saturday evening, July 6, 2024, PRS lecture room (Philosophical Research Society)
Co-Host Mandy Kahn (mandykahn.com) |
[A mud flood star fort?] The hidden shackles and chains on the Statue of Liberty (Indybay) |
Few know her ankles are in shackles. |
The New Colossus
BY EMMA LAZARUS near Ellis Island, New York
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Shackles on our titular Goddess Columbia? |
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
- Source: Emma Lazarus: Selected Poems and Other Writings (2002).
Details
Peace Class Wednesdays on Zoom (PRS) |
Performers share illuminating visions of the USA at its best, in pursuit of happiness (equal, full of life, civil liberties, and individual pursuits).
What can our country be if it chooses? Empire or Example, military force or diplomatic mission, center of power or one among equals?
Poets and musicians will entertain on this warm summer's eve. PRS Library of World Religions on Los Feliz Bl. near Griffith Park. Donations to PRS encouraged. Features:
- POETS:
- Senon Williams
- Seven Dhar
- Many Kahn
- Jane McCarthy
- MUSICIANS:
- Lael Neale
- Guy Blakeslee
Sacramento is the capital of California, where Natives experience the 4th
of July in an entirely different way: genocide, oppression, and erasure.
- RSVP:
- Disclosure Project: Poetry and Music: Visions of America, PRS Mansion, Hollywood (Thu, Jun 27, 2024, 7:30 PM | Meetup
- PasaDharma Foothills: Poetry and Music: Visions of America, PRS Mansion, Hollywood, Thu, Jun 27, 2024, 7:30 PM | Meetup
- Nature Center: Poetry and Music: Visions of America, PRS Mansion, Hollywood, Thu, Jun 27, 2024, 7:30 PM | Meetup
- ADDRESS: 3910 Los Feliz Blvd., Hollywood, California
- (prs.org)
- Ananda (Dharma Buddhist Meditation), Dhr. Seven, Jen Bradford, Jane McCarthy, Mandy Kahn (Deep Dive, PRS.org); Ashley Wells (ed.), Wisdom Quarterly
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