As usual, Ron, you suit my mood to a 't'.

And that's 't' for trouble, right here in river city.

The BEST I can hope for is to die in my sleep?  This really is a depressing
song.

Never take advice from  old, broke gamblers.  If he knew all that much he'd
be able to offer a drink and a smoke rather than cadgin' em off dewey-eyed
youngsters,

Yours,

+

On Mon, Feb 1, 2010 at 5:07 PM, X Acto <[email protected]> wrote:

> On a warm summer's evenin' on a train bound for nowhere,
> I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep.
> So we took turns a starin' out the window at the darkness
> 'Til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.
>
> He said, "Son, I've made a life out of readin' people's faces,
> And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.
> And if you don't mind my sayin', I can see you're out of aces.
> For a taste of your whiskey I'll give you some advice."
>
> So I handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow.
> Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light.
> And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression.
> Said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.
>
> You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
> Know when to walk away and know when to run.
> You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
> There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.
>
> Ev'ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin'
> Is knowin' what to throw away and knowing what to keep.
> 'Cause ev'ry hand's a winner and ev'ry hand's a loser,
> And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep."
>
> And when he'd finished speakin', he turned back towards the window,
> Crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep.
> And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even.
> But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep.
>
> You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
> Know when to walk away and know when to run.
> You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
> There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.
>
>
>
>
>
> ----- Original Message ----
> From: John Carl <[email protected]>
> To: [email protected]
> Sent: Mon, February 1, 2010 12:43:05 AM
> Subject: Re: [MD] The Last Temptation of J.C.
>
> Ron you babbling idiot you are going to have to join me soon in the K
> class.
>
>
> I mean it dude.  You are seriously getting in my head.
>
> Let's talk.
>
> Soon.
>
> What was running through my head today was Kenny Rogers.  Remember Kenny
> Rogers?  Man he was big!  Had hits comin' out his ears.  You gotta know
> when
> to hold em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to
> run.
>
>
> The thing is, that's all the negative options mostly.  I mean "holdin' em"
> ain't so bad, there's hope for the future but it's certainly not winning.
> I
> asked Lu today in the car, where's the winning?  When do you lay your cards
> on the table?  He never mentions the sheer guts it takes to just plunk them
> cards down, sydney or the bush.  Here they are.
>
> What a sad song.
>
>
> John
>
> On Sun, Jan 31, 2010 at 2:05 PM, X Acto <[email protected]> wrote:
>
> > Whats interesting is the psychology of the bullshit artist,
> > where being an ex cardplayer, knows how to read people,
> > let them fill in the blanks...allow them to come to their own conclusions
> > a confidence man
> >
> >
> > I would have been tempted to drop trou, just to call 's bluff.....
> >
> > I have had some luck with a methodist pastor, really enjoyed his surmons,
> > mostly about experiences hes had , thoughts about circumstances, what
> > he faced...very open honost matter of fact fella, young guy.
> > What I feel lacks in church is open dialog..bible studies were
> > interesting..
> > but in the end, they were waay too seriouse about the absolutist
> > demand of accepting christ...not me...
> >
> > like most churches.. they are really fun average folks, a social group...
> > then they go all "pod people" on ya..see church is fun..it's the
> religouse
> > crap thats a drag..the unconditional blind acceptance of some one elses
> > word
> > the surrender to an authority...and me ...I surrender to authority all
> the
> > time
> > socially... but I'll be damned if
> > I bow to intellectual authority..I posses me..and I'll suffer no master..
> >
> > no labels for me man
> >
> > go naked
> >
> > an intellectual nudist colony is what would be ideal.. conceptually
> playing
> > dress up with philosphic positions for fun and insight.. but labels..
> >
> > -Ron
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > ----- Original Message ----
> > From: John Carl <[email protected]>
> > To: [email protected]
> > Sent: Thu, January 28, 2010 1:16:17 PM
> > Subject: [MD] The Last Temptation of J.C.
> >
> > "The fact is, what I hated in the Church was what I hated in society.
> > Namely, authoritarians. Power freaks. Rigid dogmatists. Those greedy,
> > underloved, undersexed twits who want to run everything. While the rest
> of
> > us are busy living - busy tasting and testing and hugging and kissing and
> > goofing and growing - they are busy taking over."
> >
> > Tom Robbins
> >
> >
> > Me and religion just never got along.  The only time I was able to stand
> > religion (or more to the point, religion was able to stand me) was a year
> > and half when I was involved with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, and
> I
> > think the only reason I was able to get along as long as I did was
> because
> > it was interdenominational in structure, and thus communally open-minded
> in
> > orientation.  Plus
> > I was lonely and they had girls.
> >
> > But every once in a while I get an invitation to join the warm communal
> > religious embrace of my fellow beings, and I test the waters with my toe.
> > I'll tell you about the last time it happened, because it was kind of
> > interesting, and a funny story to boot.
> >
> > Who can resist a two-fer?
> >
> > This adventure with what I call, "Justinanity" came about because of a
> good
> > old friend of mine, JD.
> >
> > I've known JD longer than just about anybody.  My second-oldest friend.
> > I'll tell you about the first-oldest sometime because he used to be part
> of
> > this very forum and so gives me an MoQ tie-in as excuse to describe what
> > happened with him, but that's quite a long story I'm not ready to tell.
> >
> > This story begins with a book that JD gave me.  He lives, (like my
> > first-oldest friend) right here on the Ridge and so I see him pretty
> often.
> > He got caught up with a sort of commune he called, "The Santa Barbara
> > Group" for the simple reason that a bunch of people moved up here from
> > Santa
> > Barbara with the idea of buying a lot of land and living together,
> commune
> > style.
> >
> > This group of people centered around a teaching, from a book, a pretty
> good
> > book, actually, called Another Heart In His
> > Hand<
> http://www.amazon.com/Another-Heart-His-Hand-Spiritual/dp/1885420110
> > >,
> > by J.Jaye Gold.  On the front cover is this quote:
> >
> > “ All true stories aren’t necessarily about truth.
> > All stories about truth aren’t necessarily true.
> >
> > This is a true story about truth."
> >
> > "Although the author and his teacher never mention Gurdjieff, Ouspensky,
> or
> > neo-Gurdjieff exposure, this is clearly the tradition in which this
> sojourn
> > happens. The storyline itself is about a poker player who has his
> ordinary
> > experiences turned into remarkable opportunities."
> >
> > That's from a review I found when I googled the name of the book, but I
> > don't feel qualified to comment since I only read Tertium Organum once,
> and
> > that a long time ago and I never really absorbed its dense but poetic
> > prose.
> >
> > But this book by Justin (The "J" in J. Jay Gold) was pretty good, like I
> > said, and easy to understand.
> >
> > My favorite metaphor that I got from the book was an analogy of a rocket
> > and
> > a launching pad.  Every rocket needs a launching pad.  A gantry, a
> > platform,
> > a foundation.  We are the rockets, our homes and jobs and various
> > accoutrement compose the pad.  But so many people think life consists of
> > improving and tweaking their launching pad, that they've forgotten that
> the
> > pad has a purpose.  They put off their countdown, waiting for something
> to
> > tell them what to do and tweaking the pad in the meantime.
> >
> > A profound and scathing indictment of modern materialism, imho.
> >
> >
> > The book  promoted strongly the idea of creating intentional community -
> a
> > big thing with me.  So I liked it.  And it was intriguing to me that this
> > community and the author lived so close to me, about 10 minutes from my
> > house, and my old friend JD was part of the group and kept inviting me to
> > come to a meeting sometime.  Whenever I asked about it, he'd be all
> evasive
> > and wouldn't answer me at all, so it took me a while to muster any
> > enthusiasm.  I ain't in for just anyone's EST, if you know what I mean.
> >
> > But one Sunny sunday, the weather was nice, and I'd been promising JD for
> a
> > long time that I would go and Justin, who travels a lot, was going to be
> > there this weekend and so Lu and I agreed we'd go and check him out.
> >
> > We took Lu's little red car, and pulled into a circular driveway which
> > circled around a very large lawn with a stand of trees and some 40-50
> > chairs
> > set up at the top of the circle - nearest the modest ranch-style house,
> > with
> > an AV system and a table with a pitcher of water and a vase of flowers.
> > Pleasant music came from the speakers and Lu and I, befitting our
> tentative
> > toe-dipping attitude, took our seats in the very back and waited, with
> > about
> > thirty people, pretty quiet, just waiting for the great man himself to
> come
> > out and dispense his wisdom.
> >
> > We whispered back and forth to each other, surprised by the lack of
> > friendly
> > greeting you usually get when you're the new people at a group meeting,
> and
> > surprised by the lack of banter as everybody just sat, some with reverent
> > looks, some with eyes closed, meditating, praying,  who knows.  Not
> > conversing.  We waited for about 35 minutes like this, whispering
> amusedly
> > when out came the great author himself, Justin Jaye Gold.
> >
> > He looked about mid fifties, very fit, nice looking, well dressed and
> thick
> > white hair, carefully coifed.  He took a seat in front of the table, a
> > beatific half-smile on his face, looking out over the audience.  Just
> > sitting.
> >
> > And just sitting.
> >
> > And sitting.
> >
> > Nobody spoke, barely moved.  The expression on the faces around us was
> that
> > of open adoration.  It was a little creepy to me, but whatever.  Lu and I
> > continued to whisper and snicker behind our hands to one another, and we
> > caught a glare from one especially adorational lady a couple rows in
> front.
> > And then, Justin spoke.
> >
> > He described how he had been a professional poker player for a while, and
> > went into this story about a poker game at someone's house where there
> were
> > attractive women and the suggestion came up to play strip poker.  He said
> > he
> > told those women the same thing he had to offer to us, and with this
> > comment
> > he looked right at Lu and took off his sunglasses, and said, "I'll show
> you
> > mine if you show me yours."
> >
> > And with this bald declaration, he kept looking straight at my wife and
> > didn't say anything for about 5 minutes.
> >
> > Well, I'm not saying he was hitting on Lu, but there is an element of
> > sexual
> > dominance in any group or community that turns into a cult.  It's
> > practically the dominant feature of a cult - the alpha male gets to breed
> > with whatever members he chooses and usually it's the aspect that drags
> > them
> > down in the end.
> >
> > Lu just sat there, staring back.  Not removing her glasses.  Lu isn't
> real
> > prone to social coercion.  And she has a thing about eyes.  She herself
> has
> > one brown eye, and one blue and the most prominent feature in most all of
> > her art is the focus upon the eyes.  It was a bright sunny day, she's a
> > sensitive (and stubborn) redhead.  Her sunglasses stayed on.
> >
> > Mine too, but mine are prescription and I can't see very well without
> them.
> >
> > After the awkward silence, Justin launched into more exposition about the
> > fear of vulnerability, the hiding behind our shell, the dropping of
> masks.
> > Blah blah.  Yeah, I know.  But such things don't disappear just because
> > some charismatic guy manipulates using peer pressure.  And I hadn't
> bonded
> > with any of these people, they weren't my peers.  So our glasses
> continued
> > to stay on.
> >
> > I also bristled a bit at another man trying to dominate my wife.
> >
> > And I had to take a piss.  We'd been sitting for a while.
> >
> > So as he's going on and on about SOME people's fear of "showing theirs",
> Lu
> > is seething and whispering to me and the reverential lady a couple rows
> in
> > front of us turns around and goes "SHHHHH. Some of us are trying to
> listen
> > and learn."
> >
> > I smiled, nodded, and said to Lu, let's go.  This guy didn't have
> anything
> > I
> > want.  The first tendency to be overcome in a communal group is the
> > tendency
> > to hero-worship the leader, and if he didn't know this and take himself
> > with
> > enough humor and grace to diffuse the tendency, he wasn't anyone I wanted
> > to
> > hear.
> >
> > Besides, I've read his book and I've read others more profound on the
> > Community Building process which was his main shtick these days.
> >
> > So we quietly got up, and walked toward the car.  Nobody called out
> "wait!"
> > Nobody so much as glanced at us.  It felt awkward, like farting in
> church,
> > but we got back to our car and I noticed I had about 3 inches in front,
> and
> > 3 inches in back, and it looked extremely shaky as to whether I could
> > maneuver my car out of the space it was in, the other cars parked in a
> line
> > behind and in front blocking my swift and painless exit, stage left.
> >
> > I thought for a minute about going back and shouting, "Hey, I'll let you
> > see
> > my eyes for a second if you'll let me out of here" but what I did was
> back
> > and forth, back and forth, back and forth, about 25 times till I slowly
> > eased my car out of there, feeling somewhat foolish and silly, but at the
> > same time relieved to be leaving and kinda amused.
> >
> > Since it was taking me so long, I decided to milk the situation.  I
> > couldn't
> > screech out with tires spinning?  Fine.  I inched along, slowly and
> > carefully.  Somewhat in keeping with the mood of the whole meeting with
> its
> > long, meaningful silences and reverential stillness.
> >
> > The structure of the circle was such that we had to pass in front of the
> > grouped chairs, which was very near that end of the circle and thus as we
> > passed, not more than 10 feet from Justin's back.  And I drove very,
> > slowly.
> > As we passed, not a single eye glanced at us for even a moment.  Not a
> > single head swiveled to notice that a car was driving away, virtually
> > through the very middle of their worship service.  All eyes stayed glued
> in
> > rapturous attention upon the fearless leader.  Even my friend JD dared
> not
> > look other than where he was "told" to look.
> >
> > Lu and I laughed our asses off once we were clear.  I told her "Just
> > inanity.  Get it?  They worship Justin like Christians worship Christ,
> > they're a cult of Justinanity"
> >
> > I offered my definition to JD next time I saw him.  He didn't like my
> term
> > and I asked him if anything had been commented about our departure and he
> > said not really, just that some people are too afraid to venture from
> their
> > shell.
> >
> > He keeps inviting me back.  He says I should give it another chance.  I
> > always laugh.
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