Cerebral Flatulence

Yes, it’s all over the air, a tune you’ve heard somewhere, one from an old American original, that first Great Revival:

‘Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free,

‘Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain’d,

To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come round right.

– Shaker Elder Joseph Brackett, 1848

From Ross Nichols’ The Book of Druidry (1990) –

The Universal Druid’s Prayer

Grant Oh Goddess Thy Protection
And in Protection, Strength
And in Strength, Understanding
And in Understanding, Knowledge
And in Knowledge, the Knowledge of Justice
And in the Knowledge of Justice, the Love of it
And in the Love of it, the Love of All Existences
And in the Love of All Existences, the Love of the God and Goddess
God, Goddess and All Goodness
So Mote It Be.

Whe-he-hell, if it isn’t the Phantom Blatherer.

I’m off, like a prom dress, on another holiday cruise with Mom. This time it’s Valparaiso to Buenos Aires, with stops in Chilean fjords, Tierra del Fuego, Patagonia and other rugged places. Just the thing for a bracing hike after stuffing oneself with shipboard viands. Mom is mad for tango, so Clubfoot here may be hustled onto a dance floor. No pictures, please.

2008 was a very full year; the American Presidential election (bueno!), the Big Sur fires (muy malo), several deaths in our small community (tan triste), and, for me personally, a burst of creative productivity (ole!). A lot of cool new people came into my life, and for all the good things, as well as the mighty lessons, I am profoundly grateful.

Winter Solstice

On this Pausing Day,
When so many nod to their ancestors’ wisdom
And feel again the sacred thrum
Of celestial spirituality and a longing for the Light,
May that Light, upon its return,
Return us all to itself.

Lord Byron’s briefest poem:

Edith Ann;
God damn.