The past is a silent voice. I am missing. I miss much. I often count it grace. I also count it tears. These passing years are built for mourning. My tears treat my lost heart. The moments of my life spent with people now missing. For people who miss me. Life drums on.

It is interesting resting in the presence of protection. On the bus, or in the bed room trust beckons… I rest most in the presence of others whose acts of sincerity convince me beyond doubt. Those spaces I feel the freedom to live through loss. Those spaces are sacred, the people are grace.

I do not know whether CIIS will accept my application for a Ph.D. I’m not sure I wouldn’t rather sue the institution for their multi-form betrayals.

I wonder about the bicycle law suit I have initiated. I believe in standing up for myself.

I have been thinking more and more about a woman I formerly dated named Eva. I miss the effection I received from her. I miss love.

I will be taking my things out of storage this week. There was a precious man I knew in the storage unit across from mine named School Boy. He was God. I have stories about this man. He was my mirror and my friend. I remember coming into the storage unit this summer after a long stint in TN and finding his unit empty. It gave me such great hope because I new he had made it off the streets, had a job and roof over his head. I knew that I would follow in his footsteps very soon. AND now that week has come. I do hope I will see him again in a better place.

There have been events in my life where God intervened with a strength and clarity that would awe onlookers… AND I have forgotten them. I am missing them. Great movies have captured this sentiment.

I dream of making a great movie. Almost called the “Lion’s Tale” – the story of evolutionary power, the process of disempowerment and kinship and God. One of the central stories in the film would be the story of Daniel in the Lion’s den. We would also see the very first time a proto-human beat a lion in a fight, and the evolving relationship between human and lion as lion is dethroned throughout evolutionary time and eventually becomes the adornment of the human, experiencing species domination just as they once dominated. That inter-species conscious connection would be the en-living thread exemplified in the tale of Daniel as the lions refuse to eat him because they sense a common bond of captivity and in not eating Daniel perform a refusal to conform to the powers that subject them to imprisonment – which is the grace of God in experience – for the sake of Daniel and the legacy of God’s promise.

There’s already, always more to miss…


Transparency. Diaphaneity. It is a delicate form. Refined from natural experience, adapted to increase value and the powers of interconnected experience.

Earlier my roommate came in subtly proud and announcing the completion of his fifth step. The Fifth Step of Alcoholics Anonymous reads:

Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

The cultural critiques of institutionalized confession are countless. Nevertheless, the therapeutic value of sharing one’s most intimate experiences with another person is outstanding. The tradition of “confession” or transparency in action extends through every living religious order to date. The experiences connected to completely opening up to another human being often achieve the label mystical.

I, boldly, slightly auspicious, asked him what his most challenging share included. He told me that he had struggled with sex addiction and that he had been going to massage parlors. At this I became super curious!

His former Catholicism, myself deeply connected with Christian practices of sexuality in the form of virginity, celibacy, masturbation, guilt, shame, and sexual repression – the conversation was primed with “excitement” … of the healing sort… the sort that flows from mutual learning, similar experience, and trust. Sexuality is one of Western culture’s most hidden, most repressed, twisted, conflated, confused, and idealized institutions. It is of no wonder that Catholic priests both create and are created by victimhood in the form of pedophilia. It is of no wonder how connected the use of meth and sex are in the Castro, an area holding the highest concentration of both gay and culturally Christian/Catholic. I personally know a Catholic gay man whose only relationship to sexual experience is found within the context of meth parties. His sobriety becomes an increasing struggle the longer and longer he goes without sex. When I suggested that he masturbate, he scoffed – as if he was to good to masturbate. I understand this…

One day I’ll pick up this conversation in detail. It was miraculous. But because I know some people actually do read this blog I will abstain from the inevitable judgment I would receive to “bare-all.” Some experience are built in sacred container that only God can prepare. Still, my roommate and I had a deeply heartfelt, consciously connect exchange about our most hidden, shameful, experiences and they all had to do with sexuality. AND, in telling our stories we learned that we were not alone. It is completely liberating to find out that your most shameful experience is normal, shared, even expected. In that space healing happens. We hide no more and we feel free to carve new paths, discover better roads, well lit, well attended – transparent.

During our conversation I discovered something that reminded me about how powerful we are as humans. During our conversation we were experiencing flow. We were healing together. Our bodies resonating together, our interconnection felt. I was about to relaying an experience that we had shared together and all the sudden I had the knowledge of our connection and I know that he knew what I was about to say. I stopped immediately and asked him if he knew – which caught him off guard because it was so unexpected. At first he wasn’t sure, but then he answered exactly what I was about to say. Unbelievable connection. Conscious power. Our minds exist separately but we can entertain experiences so powerful that we unify our minds, our bodies resonate, our memories connected, our emotional state clear. Profound Transparency.

Anyways… That’s it for tonight.


I heard a woman at a party tonight ecstatic about an blueprint for an outside garden that included a compost area. She commented that since it was created in 1992, it was, “ahead of the times!”   What kind of culture is this that understands one of the most ancient horticultural practices, damn near as old as agriculture itself, as “new in 92?”.

At the party we roasted a whole pig.

I served the party for $100 and with that duty came the subtle but continuous feeling that I was beneath the guests that I served. The catch… this is not only a projection.

Tomorrow I go to continue my training at the Gap. I am not happy about this.

My cough and sore throat have persisted for over a week now. I am not well with this…

I finally have a little money and I am not sure that the work it took to earn that money was worth it. Bad sign.

I love substitute teaching.

I pray for work that honors and encourages my strengths.


Astronaut Experience

I have posted a really cool section from an article that came to me via Jonathan Davis’ facebook post. It’s from FAST COMPANY, http://www.fastcodesign.com – titled:

What Astronauts And Toddlers Can Teach You About Consumers

The fascinating little segment below is about the experience of astronauts judging distance on the moon. The failure of their mission was in part due to over information. I believe that -PAUL VALERIO- is right to use these experiences to benefit every thing from marketing strategies to ethnography. I know I have something to learn here… without further adue:

First, the astronauts. One little-known quirk of the Apollo moon landings was the difficulty the astronauts had judging distances on the Moon. The most dramatic example of this problem occurred in 1971 during Apollo 14, when Alan Shepard and Edgar Mitchell were tasked with examining the 1,000-foot-wide Cone Crater after landing their spacecraft less than a mile away. After a long, exhausting uphill walk in their awkward space suits, they just couldn’t identify the rim of the crater. Finally, perplexed, frustrated, and with the oxygen levels in their suits running low, they were forced to turn back. Forty years later, high-resolution images from new lunar satellites showed they had indeed come close–the trail of their footprints, still perfectly preserved in the soil, stop less than 100 feet from the rim of the crater. A huge, 1,000-foot-wide crater, and they couldn’t tell they were practically right on top of it. Why?

It should have been easy for them, right? These guys were trained as Navy test pilots; landing jets on aircraft carriers requires some expertise in distance judgment. They also had detailed plans and maps for their mission and had the support of an entire team of engineers on Earth. But their expertise was actually part of the core problem. The data their minds were trying to process was too good. All of the “noise” essential to creating the patterns their minds needed to process the data accurately was missing. And patterns are the key to human perception, especially for experts.

Consider everything that was missing up there. First, there’s no air on the Moon, so there’s no atmospheric haze, either. Eyes that grew up on Earth expect more distant objects to appear lighter in color and have softer edges than closer things. Yet everything on the Moon looks tack-sharp, regardless of distance. Second, the lack of trees, telephone poles, and other familiar objects left no reference points for comparison. Third, since the Moon is much smaller than the Earth, the horizon is closer, thus ruining another reliable benchmark. Finally, the odd combination of harsh, brilliant sunshine with a pitch-black sky created cognitive dissonance, causing the brain to doubt the validity of everything it saw.


For the rest of the article:



The journey of the philosopher is like that of the astronaut attempting to judge distance on a heavenly body for the first time. The horizons have shifted, cognitive dissonance sits in… references are lost and what was assumed relevant data is completely useless – these are the traits wisdom requires for acquisition, proximity, even for the search itself. The process of liberation is at the same time a process of atmospheric change; it is a morphing process where new eyes unfold a new territory of horizons.

I like astronauts!




This is a play off of Knowledge Ecology’s post,

The Conceptual Force of Knowledge Ecologies: A Modern Cosmogram

found here: knowledge-ecology.com

I would like to play with Isabelle Stenger’s idea of “cosmopolitics.” Admittedly, I have not done the best work I could do, in fact, I will be doing violence to this concept as I join my ideal play with the slack ass remainders that include my not having read Stenger’s work on the subject. BUT, this isn’t completely fair to me because her playing field is also mine, and I claim residency in thought and philosophical lineages; I claim the right to participate as an ally who insists on inspirations that guide Stenger’s, “cosmopolitics.” A contributive account by Bruno Latour I found in Knowledge Ecology:

From now on, politics is something entirely different from what political scientists believe: it is the building of the cosmos in which everyone lives, the progressive composition of the common world (Latour: 2004). What is common to this vast transformation is that politics is now defined as the agonizing sorting out of conflicting cosmograms (Tresch: 2005). Hence the excellent name Isabelle Stengers has proposed to give to the whole enterprise, that of cosmopolitics, meaning, literally, the politics of the cosmos (Stengers: 1996) – and not some expanded form of internationalism (Beck: 2006).

The act of building a political affect more in touch with nature or “(N)ature” requires new names. Cosmopolitics is a hail, a call to acknowledge the fact that when humanity builds politics we also build a cosmos. And further, we are bound up with the cosmos, our politics constituted as an expression of our universal situation. The division between science and value have caused unbounded, compounding planetary dilemmas. At least in part, that is what I understand Adam Robert pointing to in his cosmogram. He concludes his bit with a statement I would like to “hang my hat on”: “I believe that our part of the work must be to… develop more sophisticated theories regarding our understanding of how sensitive, vulnerable, and plastic the human psyche is.”

That pressing issues of ecological consequences facing our biosphere were not so much as mentioned in the US presidencial debates is a strong reminder that we must find ways to communicate more fully, full of heart, even to become like children in order to break the spell that keeps us from one another.

“It is a matter of appealing to the possible against the inexorable allure of the process that has set in and, of course continues today more than ever. It is a matter of breaking something of a spellbinding order, a stunned impotence… We say that this cry is the name of an event, and that the force of this event is the manner in which it makes this question exist for those who respond to it: how is one to inherit, to prolong, to become the child of this event?      Becoming the child of an event: not being born again into innocence, but daring to inhabit the possible…”        (Philippe Pignarre & Isabelle Stengers – Capitalist Sorcery)

It is not a matter of platitude or phenomenological kitsch when I say I experience the human psyche as sensitive and plastic. I am an experiencing subject proving it; living it. In my daily life I situate myself with adults by whose decisions or daring consequence find themselves as children facing a morbid world. The event of positive change is upon me. I am an onlooker as it is an event in others lives. I view attitudes of suffiction, soul atrophy and desertificaiton of contextual barrings shift to habitual value, acumen that face difficulty with balance. I bare witness to great change with a people consumed to dwell at the bottom of life.

These experiences teach me about the unification of fact and value and the potential to manifest a more robust cosmopolitics. Our future affiliations cross-species, plant, and planet are poised in waiting our arrivals. Our “conflicting cosmograms” are just as much subject to our love and light as they are the vulnerability of our constitutions. Our suffering will die as sure as our species, our best bet is the one before the other. My dreams take me towards beliefs of the possible, especially as I daily witness miracles of healing. The powers that made our world – those constituting powers of cosmograms, the psychological ordering of subjectivifications, histories of discipline and punish that have robbed freedom from adulthood and “strong responsibility” from labor… they have not the power contained in the laughter of child, or the tear of a widow. Our cosmopolitics, those that build “another world” will lead us between the poetics of experience and the weight of fact. I set my sails toward that shore…