Nostradamus Speaks - Syriana

Syriana

"Damn!" I muttered to myself, "Where is that guy when you really need him?"

I had been trying to summon Dr. N for a couple of weeks now, ever since it seemed likely that Obama was bound and determined to blow shit up in the Middle East and take us into yet another war.  Now don't get me wrong, I can be just as much a warmonger as the next guy, given the right time and place.  Check out Ecclesiastes 3:8 if you want some back up on that.  But this, says me to myself, is bullshit, and I fired off emails to my congressman and senators telling them in no uncertain terms, "Hell no, we won't go!", and "Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?" and "No more war; no more war!"  I know, those are warmed over chants from my Vietnam protest days that I dragged down from the attic, but I think they still have juice left in them.  

So just when it seemed like I was going to have to venture out and make some predictions on my own I got an email from, you guessed it, The Maestro Himself, the One and Only Dr. Michel de Nostradamus, Seer of Seers, Prognosticator of Prognosticators, Visionary Par Excellente, Prophet of Doom and Gloom and Master Horse Whisperer of the Apocalypse.  Yes, that guy, my mentor and employer.  (And no, I will not give out his email address, just in case you might try to make an end run around me, the Good Doctor's One and Only Officially Authorized Spokesman and Chief Apprentice.)

"What do you want, Number One?"  he wrote.

"How do I know it is you on the other end of the line?"  I wrote.

"What.Do.You.Want?" was the rather curt answer.

"Okay, chill already.  I want to know what is going to happen with this Syria shit and how come you didn't tip me off this was coming down the pike?"

"First off, the Middle East is unraveling; it's a big dog fight and what happens when you stick your hand into the middle of a dog fight?  (That's a rhetorical question by the way.)  You get bit, that's what happens; and the dogs continue to fight.  The American Empire is biting off more than it can chew for this, the Last Supper; in fact the Middle East is more than anybody can chew and this is not going to end well; in fact, this will not even end for many decades, until the last dog is hung, to continue the metaphor.  

"Second off, I did predict this shit; not that it takes a Nostradamus (ha ha) to see it coming."

"Okay,"  I wrote, "That's pretty much what I was thinking, too.  Anything else?"

Dixi.

(Originally posted September 8, 2013)

Nostradamus Speaks - Patterns

Patterns

It had been a while since I last saw Dr. Nostradamus, but still, it was not surprising to see him kicking back with a demitasse at my local Starbucks as I strode in on my early morning power walk.  Dr. N., as I have learned, comes and goes according to his own counsel and is just as likely to turn up panhandling on the street corner, or shuffling along in a line of arrestees at the local jail -- his mysterious appearance and even more mysterious disappearance from the slammer is still under paranoid investigation by perplexed and embarrassed gendarmes. "Who was that guy?!?"  

Be that as it may, he was here and since I happen to be the the One and Only Authorized Spokesperson and Chief Apprentice to the World's Foremost Prognosticator, Seer of Seers, and all-around Grand Visionaire Extraordinaire, he was here, obviously, to see me. 

"Greetings, Doctor," I said. "What's happening?"

"Good morning, Number One," replied the good doctor, then, not wasting time or words, "I want you to go back to email publication of Nostradamus Speaks."

I was just as blunt. "Why? What's wrong with Google+?"

"Nothing is wrong with Google+," he countered. "I read an article you re-posted and I'm persuaded that email is the King of All Social Media. Just as all roads lead to Rome, all social media ultimately revolve around email. It's not like I'm asking you to go to Facebook."

"Thanks for that." But I agreed; email is not as cumbersome as I once thought and the latest software make it very powerful. "Okay, will do. (Hey, he's the man.) So, what brings you to my neck of the woods? I've seen neither hide nor hair of you for nigh on six months."

"I've been around," he replied. "Here and there, now and then."

"Well," I said, breaking the ice, "I've been watching events unfold here and there, now and then, and it looks to these eyes anyway, things are going to hell right on schedule."

"Reading the leaves?" he asked, with a casual glance and a sip of his espresso.

"Leaves?" I puzzled.

"Yes, leaves, as in tea leaves, as in casting the bones, as in Prognostication 101."  

"Give me a break, Sensei," I protested, with a double slug of my double espresso, "We are not in 16th Century France anymore, or did you take a wrong turn back there, then, whenever?"

Dr. Nostradamus ignored my snotty comment. "This is basic stuff," he said, "So forgive me if I seem impatient at having to yet again pound it into your thick skull."

"Please proceed, Doctor."  I countered, feeling myself one up on the Great Maestro.

"Reading the tea leaves, casting the bones, and any number of other dramatically descriptive and arcane soothsayer practices are nothing more than figures of speech, expressions. It just means you are looking for patterns."

"Patterns."

"Yes, patterns," Dr. Nostradamus continued. "It is through patterns that we discern the unfolding of the natural world.  The beginning of wisdom lies in the recognition that nature unfolds along lines of pattern, according to natural law as revealed by those patterns, and there is nothing you or anyone can do to change those laws or those patterns. See the pattern; see the patterns within patterns; see the way things actually happen in the world; and from there, see the future."

It had been a while since Dr. Nostradamus had taken to actually teaching me a formal, academic lesson about the avocation to which I had hitched my wagon. Most of the time it has been wax on, wax off, Mr. Miyagi style.  This was different.

He continued, "The natural world and everything in it plays out according to patterns -- from subatomic scale to planets and stars and galaxies, and everything in between.  All life forms perceive and recognize patterns, and human beings are particularly good at it, provided they can or will set aside their ideological blinders."

"I think I see where you are headed with this," I said, unable to resist. "Seriously though, I have been reading a lot lately about historical cycles and there are some very perceptive bloggers out there, the Archdruid front and center."

"Yes," Dr. Nostradamus leaned in. "Some of humanity's greatest thinkers keenly recognize that history repeats itself, or at least rhymes, and much has been written about the how and why.  And it is not limited to historical analysis either. Virtually all of human knowledge, and especially science and mathematics, is the study of patterns."

"And when you think about it,"  I added, eager to contribute, "It is easy to see that basic human intelligence derives from the recognition of patterns, the memory of patterns, the comparison of patterns.  This is exciting stuff, Dr. N., are you sure you're not giving away the store?  There are trade secrets worth keeping, you know."

"Not to worry, Grasshopper,"  the Great Seer reassured me, "This is not rocket science and those who have eyes will see."

"So the trick is," I said, "How to See.  Are you going to give that away too?" 

"You miss the point, young apprentice.  Pattern recognition happens automatically; it is what everyone's brain just does, easily.  Sometimes of course, a brain gets overheated and sees patterns where there are none --  conspiracy nuts, those who see Jesus on a piece of toast or a rat in a photograph on Mars." 

I agreed.  "For sure. But for all that, there are those who refuse to see the glaringly obvious, and those who can't be bothered." 

"Indeed," saideth the Soothsayer. "Given the vast storehouse of knowledge easily accessible today, ignorance is a lifestyle choice, and stupidity -- rarely a genetic misfortune -- is almost always a self-inflicted wound -- willful blindness by tribal identity, ideology, wishful thinking.  But, as the ancient stoics would have put it, other people are not your problem; each individual is responsible to himself for the choices of action he makes, and for his assessment of the world as he experiences it.  To each his own.  Not your call."  

"We are on a roll, Doc!" I said.  "It's like I'm talking to myself, or like you've been reading the same stuff I have!  Dare I say great minds think alike?"

"Yes it has been a good meeting Number One,"  Dr. N. said, "And I am gladdened to see insight rising in that reptilian brain of yours."

"Ha ha, very funny," I said. "So, do you have any predictions to put out there?  Am I correctamente?  Things are going to hell right on schedule, right?  Right?" 

"Yes, Number One, things are going to hell right on schedule.  Happy now?"

"Yeah, dude!  I'm happy now,"  I said, licking my chops.  "I just want to be able to say, 'I told you so.'  Now, when is the shit really going to hit the fan?"

"The devil is in the details, Dung Beetle.  If scientists predict the end of life on earth when the sun bloats into a red giant four billion years from now, skeptics will demand to know the day, month, and year it all comes down."

"Well, people want to be able to plan ahead.  But, closer to home, when is the collapse of modern industrial civilization going to happen?  I want something substantial to post this time; something people can sink their teeth into. When is this sucker going down?" 

"So sorry, Grasshopper," also sprach Nostradamus, "you seek a certainty not even theoretically possible; but the Titanic has most definitely sailed.  Choose your companions wisely; get thee to the lifeboats."

"Will there even be enough lifeboats to go around, this time around?"

"No."

"And I suppose changing out the captain and crew won't help."

"No.  Rearrange the deck chairs to your heart's content; have the orchestra play a different tune; play musical chairs with privileged positions in First Class; let a few lottery winners from steerage into the Grand Ballroom -- it won't matter.  The course is set; the die is cast."

"So this sucker is definitely going down? Really?  It's absolutely, positively, no question about it, going to happen?"

"Don't get too carried away with the Titanic imagery, Number One.  It's just a metaphor.  The decline and fall of industrial civilization will be a messy, irregular, on again -- off again, bumpy ride down.  But down we go, the way of all flesh, the way of all civilizations, empires, nations, tribes, families, individuals, bugs and microbes.  Read the leaves, Grasshopper, read the leaves, and think on these things."  

Then Dr. Michel de Nostradamus, my employer and mentor and a great man in his own right, was gone.

Dixi.

(Originally published July 6, 2013)

Nostradamus Speaks - A Hard Rain

A Hard Rain

It was with delight that I caught sight of my reliable old mentor as I turned the corner and headed into one of my favorite coffee shops, Peets at the Crossroads in Irvine.  There he was, decked out again in full tri-color Spandex, in the midst of a bunch of similarly clad bicyclists, yakking it up, no doubt discussing the results of the national elections.

"Yo!, Dr. N, my man!" said I, still joyfully ebullient over the shit stomping Mr. Vampire Capitalist Mitt Romney, the Tea Bag haters and the Christian Taliban received at the hands of my favorite presidential candidate this year, Barack Obama.

"You called it!" I shouted, as Dr Michel de Nostradamus, Seer of Seers, Prognosticator of Prognosticators, Visionary of Visionaries, and all around Font of Predictatory Insight, excused himself and made his way over to me.

"Greetings Number One," said the Great One, "Nice to see you, and I take it from your mood that you are happy how things turned out yesterday."

"Yes indeedy indeed, I most surely am," said I, "My head would have exploded had things gone the other way, not to mention my credibility and reputation taking a major hit."

"And how is that?"  the Good Doctor inquired.

"Dr. N, Maestro," I replied, " There are a lot of readers out there in the blogosphere who think that I just make this shit up for the "Nostradamus Speaks" column.  It I had missed a big one like who was going to win the presidency, I would have been just another hack in the crowd who are now publicly eating crow sandwiches on national television, meekly trying to explain how they could have been so wrong."

"I am somewhat disappointed, young Apprentice,"  Dr Nostradamus furrowed his brow, "I thought we had an understanding from our last conversation.  Do you recall what I said about "Nostradamus Speaks"?

"Of course I do,"  I protested.  "I memorized it:  Nostradamus Speaks, it's not about you, it's about me."  And, to repeat my congratulations Maestro, you nailed it."

The Good Doctor sighed,  "Yes, of course I nailed it.  I am, after all, the great Doctor Michel de Nostradamus, of historical repute, and making accurate predictions about the future is my stock in trade, my day job, so to speak."  

I savored the moment.  Realizing how lucky I was to have been chosen to be the One and Only Officially Authorized Spokesperson and Chief Apprentice for the great Michel de Nostradamus.  "Chief,"  I said, "Let's toast the moment."

"Very well, Number One,"  Dr. N replied, "Let's toast the moment.  But the moment will pass, and this victory you now celebrate with such enthusiasm will fade as quickly as a cheap fireworks display.  A hard rain is gonna fall and a great storm descend upon this land, and all the king's horses, and all the king's men won't put Humpty together again."

"Yikes,"  I said.  "Lighten up Sensei."

I looked around, but he was gone.

Dixi. 

(Originally published November 8, 2012)

Nostradamus Speaks - Quarterly Review

Quarterly Review

So there I was, trucking along on my daily speedwalk, complementing myself on how trim and lean I was becoming, decked out with Made in China from head to foot, dodging the occasional Irvine yuppie bicyclist, reminding myself with superiority that I don't need no stinking spandex; I don't need no stinking helmet; and I don't need no stinking $2000 machine to get me from here to there.  I'm a walking man in my prime, doing walking. 

So round the bend in style I strode, and what do I see just ahead of me but a hapless bicyclist, tinkering with the chain of an expensive looking racing bike.  Closing in, I was mentally prepared to toss off some snotty comment about how I didn't need no stinking bike when, "Holy shit!" I said to myself, "It's Dr. N." 

Indeed it was.  It was the great Doctor Michel de Nostradamus himself, decked out in tri-colored spandex and helmet to match, hunched over a vintage Rene Herse French racing bicycle, getting his boney doctor fingers greasy.

"Holy shit!" I said.

"Dr. N." I said, "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Apprentice,"  the Good Doctor replied, "I've been expecting you."

"Huh?" I stammered, "How did you find me?"

"I'm the man."  The Man said, "And," pointing to my belt, "your iPhone's regular GPS updates.  It's a no brainer; no special powers required."

"Well,"  I said, "I suspected Steve Jobs was tracking me, especially after it became known that I was your One and Only Chief Spokesperson and Authorized Representative.  A lot of famous people were hitting me up for free personalized predictions.  But I never suspected you would stalk me."

I sensed some impatience from the Great One so I moved on, "So, to what do I owe the honor of this visitation?"

"It's time for your quarterly review."  the Maestro replied.

My heart sunk.  "Shit." I said, "Sensei, we just went through this and I passed with flying colors.  Don't you trust me yet?"

"It has come to my attention, Number One,"  Dr. Nostradamus replied, "That you have been using biblical quotes to enliven the Nostradamus Speaks column."

"And that is a problem?" I said, practically indignant.

"Not a problem if done right," Dr. N. said, "but my understanding from your job application is that you aren't even religious, let alone Christian.  Don't you think readers might think it a bit hypocritical when you start throwing scripture around?  Integrity is important in this profession and my spokesperson must be beyond reproach." 

"Sensei, Maestro, Your Excellency,"  I groveled in my defense, "I only put scripture out there when it pops into my head, and I know that it irritates some readers who fancy themselves Christians and know I am a godless atheist. I like to imagine their heads exploding. Is that bad?"

"Yes, Grasshopper,"  The Boss said, "It's bad, and it's immature, and I should not have to remind you, but Nostradamus Speaks is not about you, it's about me."

"Sure thing Chief," I hastened to respond, "Got it!  Here, look, see, I'm writing it down." I whipped out my iPhone, opened Notes, and tapped it out:  "Cast not your pearls before swine. Matthew 7:6, and remember, Nostradamus Speaks is not about you, it's about me!"

"Look."  I said, showing the note.  "I like this gig Boss, and I promise I won't fuck it up."

"Well, okay."  The Great Seer of Seers and Prognosticator of Prognosticators finally said...after an uncomfortable pause.

"We good then?" 

"Yes, we're good."

"Cool." I said, then moved on, "Oh, by the way, you were spot on with that last prognostication, what with Egypt and the ambassador in Libya and the new rash of blue on green killings of western soldiers in Afghanistan."

"Yes," he said, "but like I also said, it was not rocket science.  The Americans have lost yet another war, and Mr. Obama is desperate for a way out.  Peace with honor comes to mind."

With that the Good Doctor grew quiet and I sensed that our meeting had concluded so I kept my eye on him hoping to catch his disappearing act in the act.  

But he waved me on. "I will contact you again shortly.  Before the election for sure."

I glanced up the trail to get my bearings again and then back to say goodbye.  But he was gone.

Dixi

(Originally posted September 16, 2010)

the fire stealers - a love story | Energy Bulletin

the fire stealers - a love story | Energy Bulletin

DARK AGES AMERICA -- Blog for Morris Berman

DARK AGES AMERICA -- Blog for Morris Berman

The Anti Dorian Gray

Dorian Gray stayed young while his portrait in the attic grew old and decrepit.  I am kind of the anti-Dorian Gray.  My blog photo has stayed young and unchanged for the past 35 years while I have grown bald and gray and all chewed up.  Curious.

The Archdruid Report: Hagbard's Law

The Archdruid Report: Hagbard's Law

This guy is required reading for Thursday's class every week.

The Unholy Trinity that is the Republican Party

http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2009/9/28/787385/-The-Republican-Agenda:-Keep-America-Ignorant-and-Miserable,-at-any-Cost

The Former United States of America

I am linking below three articles by Michael Ventura in his column Letters@3AM in the Austin Chronicle. A keen analysis of how and why the United States of America will decline and fall.
http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/column?oid=oid%3A543178
http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/column?oid=oid:549268
http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/story?oid=oid:554180

Outstanding.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

The Road not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

The Hollow Men

* * * *

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper.

T.S. Eliot

The Heart Sutra

Thus have I heard. Once the Blessed One was dwelling in Rajagriha at Vulture Peak mountain, together with a great gathering of the sangha of monks and a great gathering of the sangha of bodhisattvas. At that time the Blessed One entered the samadhi that expresses the dharma called "profound illumination," and at the same time noble Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva mahasattva, while practicing the profound prajnaparamita, saw in this way: he saw the five skandhas to be empty of nature.

Then, through the power of the Buddha, venerable Shariputra said to noble Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva mahasattva, "How should a son or daughter of noble family train, who wishes to practice the profound prajnaparamita?"

Addressed in this way, noble Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva mahasattva, said to venerable Shariputra, "O Shariputra, a son or daughter of noble family who wishes to practice the profound prajnaparamita should see in this way: seeing the five skandhas to be empty of nature. Form is emptiness; emptiness also is form. Emptiness is no other than form; form is no other than emptiness. In the same way, feeling, perception, formation, and consciousness are emptiness.

Thus, Shariputra, all dharmas are emptiness. There are no characteristics. There is no birth and no cessation. There is no impurity and no purity. There is no decrease and no increase. Therefore, Shariputra, in emptiness, there is no form, no feeling, no perception, no formation, no consciousness; no eye, no ear, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind; no appearance, no sound, no smell, no taste, no touch, no dharmas, no eye dhatu up to no mind dhatu, no dhatu of dharmas, no mind consciousness dhatu; no ignorance, no end of ignorance up to no old age and death, no end of old age and death; no suffering, no origin of suffering, no cessation of suffering, no path, no wisdom, no attainment, and no non-attainment.

Therefore, Shariputra, since the bodhisattvas have no attainment, they abide by means of prajnaparamita. Since there is no obscuration of mind, there is no fear. They transcend falsity and attain complete nirvana. All the buddhas of the three times, by means of prajnaparamita, fully awaken to unsurpassable, true, complete enlightenment.

Therefore, the great mantra of prajnaparamita, the mantra of great insight, the unsurpassed mantra, the unequaled mantra, the mantra that calms all suffering, should be known as truth, since there is no deception. The prajnaparamita mantra is said in this way:

OM GATE GATE PARAGATE PARASAMGATE BODHI SVAHA

Thus, Shariputra, the bodhisattva mahasattva should train in the profound prajnaparamita.

Then the Blessed One arose from that samadhi and praised noble Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva mahasattva, saying, "Good, good, O son of noble family; thus it is, O son of noble family, thus it is. One should practice the profound prajnaparamita just as you have taught and all the tathagatas will rejoice."

When the Blessed One had said this, venerable Shariputra and noble Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva mahasattva, that whole assembly and the world with its gods, humans, asuras, and gandharvas rejoiced and praised the words of the Blessed One.

Fire and Ice

Fire and Ice

By Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.