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Someone recently asked me if I was angry at the world. I may be continually at odds with the world but anger is an ugly emotion I choose to avoid.

 

If an apple fell out of a tree and hit me on the head I wouldn’t allow it to anger me. I have no control over the falling of an apple. The best I can do is to try not to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

The same is true of any harm or injustice inflicted upon me by the rest of the world. I have no control over the forces of nature or the actions of humanity. The only thing I have control over is myself.

 

This is a harsh planet containing predatory animals, poisonous reptiles, voracious insects, lethal viruses, severe climates, lightning, volcanoes, earthquakes, psychopaths, perverts, serial killers and various misguided human beings who are driven to control, plunder and otherwise make life miserable for everyone else.

 

Those who seek to control others insist on a rigid set of rules to satisfy their individual sense of right and wrong. They require conformity on everything from what you can drink or smoke or shoot up your arm, to the height of the grass in your front lawn. And if you refuse to conform you must be punished. These are the people most active in government, continually creating more and more rules for the rest of us to obey. Invariably, they exceed the bounds of common sense and decency. One person’s set of rules is another person’s imprisonment.

 

Some of these control freaks carry their cause way too far. They believe their way is the only way and are willing to exterminate anyone who doesn’t feel the same way, even if they must perish in the process. These zealots will shoot people at random or blow up buses or fly airplanes into tall office buildings in order to make the world a better place. However, making the world a better place by making the world a worse place isn’t exactly a positive course of action. One person’s philosophy is another person’s nightmare.

 

The world is also occupied by selfish greed-heads who never seem to have enough material wealth and plunder from others in order to maintain a lifestyle they have neither earned nor deserved. They come in all shapes and sizes, from unethical corporate executives to money market manipulators to purse snatchers. They take from others by whatever means necessary with no regard for the welfare of others. One person’s illicit gain is another person’s loss.

 

Then there are those inconsiderate nitwits who thoughtlessly plow through life as if no one else exists. They come in all shapes and sizes, from housewives to hooligans. They drive carelessly or tear around in their ATVs and Jet Skis or toss their cigarette butts anywhere they please or make too much noise with their loud music or destroy things for kicks or whatever. One person’s recklessness is another person’s bane of existence.

 

If life were perfect, it would be called heaven -- instead we call it earth.

 

The world is a perilous place, full of self-centered people, disturbing the tranquility and/or imposing their will upon others. Being angry at inconsiderate or evil jerks only adds to the turmoil.

 

Most people deal incorrectly with anger. Some people try to get even by striking back, but correcting a wrong with a wrong is simply another wrong.

 

Others believe the anger should be released through harmless outlets such as sports or primal screams or beating a pillow. However, venting anger in a harmless direction is still indulging in anger.

 

The proper way to deal with anger is not to get angry in the first place.

 

If some jerk disrupts your life, don’t get angry -- when you become angry, the jerk wins.

 

The jerk wants you to be angry and bring you down to his level to justify his existence. He gets a thrill out of making you react, thereby controlling you. If you rise above it and remain noble, you’ve won.

 

If an apple falls on your head, don’t get angry -- you’re in control, not the apple.

 

It’s easy to be at odds with an imperfect world but being angry at the world is an exercise in futility, making it that much more imperfect.

 

You can’t change the world -- you can only change yourself.

 

Forgive the apple and move on.

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Quote for the Day -- "Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured." Mark Twain

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Bret Burquest is the author of 7 books, including THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY and ORB OF WOUNDED SOULS (available on Amazon). He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and the ghost of Jasper Lamar Crabb.

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What would be your fair share of the global pie if everything was divided equally among everyone on this planet?

 

If all the land on Planet Earth was divided into equal parcels, each person would have slightly less than five acres.

 

This would include many uninhabitable areas, such as Antarctica, Greenland, high mountain peaks, swampy lowlands, areas preserved for wildlife, recreational parks, hostile deserts, water systems (lakes, rivers), military bases and other restricted areas, further reducing reasonable inhabitable land masses to approximately three acres per person.

 

And if you add the amount of land required to grow food crops and raise livestock for the ever-increasing population, it's down to about two acres available per person.

 

As the world population continues to increase year after year, less land is available for each person. There is only so much land on this planet and they aren’t making any more.

 

A more startling statistic is how much money each of us would have if divided equally.

 

If all of the currency in circulation in the world was converted to US dollars and divided equally among everyone on the planet, we would each have approximately $450, give or take a few dollars depending on fluctuating factors.

 

Currency in circulation means all the money you have in your wallet or purse or cookie jar, plus all the cash businesses, including banks, have on hand. Basically, all the paper money and coins that have been printed or minted in all the countries in the world and are in public circulation, even if it’s sitting in a vault in a bank somewhere.

 

This does not include accumulated wealth, such as stocks, bonds, real estate holdings, net worth and so on. This is not currency; it's a paper trail. Most banks only have enough cash on hand to cover a small percentage of customer deposits.

 

So if you own a couple of acres and have $450 in your pocket or cookie jar, you have acquired your share of the global pie.

 

If you’re content with what you have, I salute you. Peace of mind is far more important than land or money.

 

And if you have more than your fair share, so much the better. Through effort or good fortune, you’ve exceeded the norm.

 

But if you’re dissatisfied unless you have more than your fair share, I pity you. More for you means less for others.

 

We live on a planet of credit and consumption, where more is better and endless growth is encouraged.

 

We work far too many hours to acquire far too many things, and governments bleed us dry while keeping the insidious cycle of excessive taxation and expansion of power (more government, less individual freedom) going full throttle, even if it means continually borrowing more and more against the future thereby creating enormous public debt to be passed onto future generations.

 

There’s a difference between having as much as you want and having as much as you need.

 

If you want more than your fair share, you suffer from envy.

 

If you need more than your fair share, you suffer from greed.

 

If you believe you are entitled to the earnings of others, you are a thief.

 

Your fair share of the global pie isn't so far out of reach -- if you lust for more than your fair share, you have an inflated sense of self-importance.

 

The best things in life aren't things. Happiness is about being content with what you have, not with what you seek to have.

 

Like it or not, we're all in this together. Life is not about winning or losing, or accumulating more than others -- success only occurs when everyone succeeds.

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Quote for the Day – "He who knows enough is enough will always have enough." Lao Tzu

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Bret Burquest is the author of 7 books, including THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY and ORB OF WOUNDED SOULS (available on Amazon). He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and has his fair share of the global pie (barely).

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A cryptid is a creature whose existence is alleged but has not been verified by scientific consensus, such as Bigfoot, Chupacabra, Loch Ness Monster, Draconian Reptilian Shape-Shifter and the Grinch who stole Christmas.

 

Beware my fellow Earthlings -- some of these elusive entities may indeed mingle among us.

 

In November of 1966, the following events took place near Point Pleasant, West Virginia.

 

On November 15, Newell Partridge, a rural resident, noticed some unusual interference on his TV, as his dog Bandit began howling outside. Partridge went outside with a flashlight and spotted Bandit, about 150 feet from the house, circling a large creature with glowing red eyes. He called Bandit but the dog persisted. Consumed with fear, Partridge returned into the house to retrieve a firearm, but then decided to remain indoors until dawn.

 

At sunrise, there was no trace of Bandit or the creature.

 

Later same evening, two couples were traveling in a single vehicle about seven miles north of Point Pleasant. They noticed two red lights in the shadows of an old abandoned factory. As they stopped the car to check it out, they discovered the two red lights were the eyes of a large eerie creature "shaped like a man,... maybe seven feet tall, with big wings folded against its back." They drive off in fright.

 

As they were about to enter the main highway, they spotted the creature standing on a nearby ridge. The creature spread its wings and flew alongside the vehicle, at speeds exceeding 100 miles per hour, all the way to the city limits. As they approached Point Pleasant, they noticed the corpse of a large dog along the roadside (in the area of the Partridge residence).

 

They reported the incident to a deputy at the sheriff's office who considered them to be credible witnesses, having known the two couples all their lives.

 

On November 24, four witnesses reportedly saw an identical creature flying above the old factory in the same vicinity.

 

On November 25, a man was driving on the highway just north of the old factory when he spotted the creature standing in a field. The creature then spread its wings and flew away. The witness reported the incident to the Point Pleasant sheriff's office.

 

On November 27, A woman driving home from church saw a huge figure shaped like a man, at least seven feet tall, with large glowing red eyes. As she slowed her car, a pair of wings unfolded from its back, spreading to about 10 feet, whereby the creature rose slowly off the ground, then swooped toward her car as she accelerated to escape.

 

There were also other sightings reported of this terrifying creature that would become known as Mothman.

 

On December 15, 1967, the bridge connecting Point Pleasant, West Virginia, with Gallipolis, Ohio, over the Ohio River, collapsed, killing 46 people. Thereafter, fewer sightings of Mothman were reported, leading some to speculate that the creature appears before a pending disaster -- either attempting to warn people, or perhaps contributing to the disaster.

 

We live in a mysterious universe. According to recent discoveries (theories) in physics, there are as many as 12 dimensions (we reside in the 3rd dimension) with as many as 12 vibrations (frequencies) in each dimension -- with each vibration within each dimension being an individual reality (such as our universe being one of those realities).

 

If so, it is not inconceivable that an "unearthly" creature could alter from one vibration (frequency) to another, thereby slipping into another dimension.

 

The universe may be astonishingly vast and complex and mysterious -- but it isn't everything.

 

Other realities also exist -- they too are vast and complex and mysterious.

 

And they may not always be in harmony with our daily existence.

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Quote for the Day -- "Everything in the universe is endowed with a consciousness of its own kind and on its own plane of perception." Helena Blavatsky

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Bret Burquest is the author of 7 books, including THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY and ORB OF WOUNDED SOULS (available on Amazon). He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and lots of moths.

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Some people come into money and fritter it away -- others have a knack for turning money into more money.

 

Jim Lindsey graduated from high school in Forest City, Ark., in 1962. He went on to the University of Arkansas and played football under Coach Frank Broyles. As a 6-2, 210 tailback, he helped the Razorbacks become national champions in 1964. And by the time he graduated in 1965, they had won 22 games in a row.  

 

In 1966, Lindsey was drafted in the second round by the Minnesota Vikings under Coach Norm Van Brocklin.

 

Bud Grant was hired to replace Van Brocklin in 1967 and Lindsey fit right in the new coach's system as a role player (backup running back and tight end) and soon became special team's captain on all the kicking plays.

 

Lindsey was a marginal offensive player for the Vikings, ever fearful he wouldn't make the team. He rushed for a total of 566 yards and six touchdowns, and received 65 passes for 632 yards and four touchdowns over seven seasons. But on special teams he was invaluable at breaking up wedges on kickoffs and covering punts.

 

Having played for Frank Broyles in college, Lindsey developed a deep appreciation of coaching. Throughout his seven years in pro football, Lindsey always assumed he would someday be a football coach, probably at the high school level somewhere in Arkansas or perhaps even back at his college alma mater.

 

As a second round draft pick back in 1966, Lindsey signed a three-year deal with the Vikings which paid an annual salary of $25,000 in the first year, $27,500 the second year and $30,000 the third year. He also received a signing bonus of $90.000. After taxes, the up-front cash bonus had been reduced to $60,000.

 

Lindsey was a small-town kid who majored in math in college. Instead of frittering away his fresh wad of cash on instant frills (cars, jewelry, etc.), he made a $60,000 down payment on a $167,000 chunk of Arkansas land.

 

Payments on the land came out of his salary while he and his wife lived modestly in a rented apartment.

 

Three years after purchasing the land, he sold it for $1.5 million.

 

Lindsey never did get into coaching, but he did start a real estate investment company in Fayetteville called Lindsey & Associates, plus he currently serves on the Board of Trustees at the University of Arkansas as chairman of the athletic committee.

 

Presently, Lindsey owns 27,500 apartment units, 12,000 acres of farmland and 28 golf courses. Not including income from the apartment building operation (which is spread over the Ozarks to Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri, and Tennessee), Lindsey & Associates did $800 million in sales last year.

 

Jerry Jones, owner of the Dallas Cowboys, was also a member of the University of Arkansas football team at the same time as Lindsey. He and Lindsey are currently embarking on a five-year project to construct 5,000 apartment units, at a cost of $50 million, on 270 acres in the Dallas area.

 

And the rich get richer once again.

 

Unless you're born into it, money is hard to come by in this world, especially if you have to work for someone else. If you start your own business it's even harder because it requires a personal commitment, diligence and plenty of good luck along the way. And no matter how much effort you put into it, success is never guaranteed.

 

So if you suddenly acquire a large sum of cash, don't fritter it away on flashy goodies or get-rich-quick schemes -- invest it wisely in something worthwhile, such as real property or furthering your own enterprise.

 

If you define success by the size of your bankroll, you need to follow certain steps, starting with a long-term plan. Then be prepared to sacrifice personal luxury, remain persistent and have the patience to see it through.

 

Personally, I believe success is being content with everyday life, regardless of the surrounding insanity.

 

I've solved all my money problems the easy way -- by not having very much of it; just enough to maintain a debt-free existence and never any extra money to fritter away on anything beyond the bare necessities of life.

 

To fritter or not to fritter, that is the question.

 

But it's only a dilemma if you have more money than you need.

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Quote for the Day -- "I try to learn from the past, but I plan for the future by focusing exclusively on the present." Donald Trump

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Bret Burquest, author of four novels, has recently published THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY (esoteric knowledge) and 1111 HAPPY TRAILS ROAD (humor) -- available on Amazon. He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and has a small jar of quarters for emergency transactions.

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In April of 1966, I was drafted into the U.S. Army (Vietnam Era) and served as a computer analyst at Third Army Headquarters at Fort McPherson in Atlanta, Georgia, with the Third U. S. Army Data Processing Company.

 

Every company on the post had a football team. Plus there was a company of U.S. Marines stationed at a nearby supply depot that filled out our 6-team league.

 

We played touch football.

 

In the military, that meant it was illegal to break bones during a touch.

 

The Marines and the data processors met in October of 1967. During warm-ups, the Marines appeared confident. After all, they were big, tough dudes with necks as big as their thighs and we were computer geeks.

 

We had enough players to field a team, as long as we played both ways, with a couple players left over for emergency.

 

I often played fullback and middle linebacker. This night I was the center and a defensive lineman.

 

As usual, John Danko, a notorious street fighter from north Minneapolis gave us an emotional boost. Just before he kicked off to open the game, he pointed at some of the nastiest-looking Marines and announced he was going to stomp them into the ground.

 

When Danko kicked the ball to start the game, eleven computer geeks, including me, stormed down the field like we were all blood kin to Dick Butkus.

 

Thus began an evening of pure mayhem.

 

In the first half, Staff Sergeant Jackson blew out a knee in a pileup and was carted off to the hospital. He was replaced at defensive tackle by a guy from Philadelphia named Phillips, a decent athlete with good size.

 

In the third quarter, the biggest Marine on the offensive line nailed Phillips in the mouth with a forearm. Phillips lost several front teeth and was bleeding badly from a split lip, so he left the game and went off to be repaired.

 

John Wright, linebacker, took my place at defensive end while I slipped into the tackle position previously occupied by Jackson and Phillips. Wright was an excellent athlete, tall with speed.

 

When we lined up again, I told the molester of computer geeks, in rather colorful language, that he was about to encounter the next level of bad. Rather than intimidating him, it made him smile.

 

In the last quarter, the score was still zero-zero.

 

We had the marines backed up deep in their own territory when they ran up the middle. Somehow, my elbow smacked into the biggest offensive lineman’s mouth. It drew blood but his teeth remained intact. Although it was accidental, it turned out to be a turning point in the game.

 

A couple of other Marines accosted me but Banning and Valentino, the left side of our defensive line, joined in and soon whistles were blowing and flags flying.

 

Everyone on the field was now in full macho mode. Danko gave me a nod, acknowledging me for molesting the molester, sending my reputation up about four notches.

 

In high school, Banning had been an all-state basketball player and the Missouri State discus champion. He was basically a human gorilla.

 

Valentino was a tough guy from Chicago who lifted weights every spare minute of his life. But he was so strong he had no lateral movement. He could only go straight ahead, always at full throttle.

 

The next play, the Marine quarterback dropped back to pass.

 

Banning and I broke through the line, chasing the quarterback to his right. Valentino, at full speed, “tagged” the quarterback in his own end zone.

 

In fact, he “tagged” him so hard the quarterback rolled about three revolutions before coming to a halt with a mouth full of Georgia clay.

 

The final score – Computer Geeks 2, Marines 0.

 

Sometimes you can’t tell a book by the cover.

 

And sometimes geeks are more than just geeks.

 

John Luzon, quarterback, had a great arm. He was signed as a pitcher in the Baltimore Oriole organization.

 

Jack Quitoni, halfback, played semi-pro football and now coaches high school football in New York State.

 

Clyde Pruitt, wide receiver, was a super athlete who had played basketball on scholarship for UCLA.

 

Bill Banning, lineman, became a hotshot software developer for IBM, creating the OS/2 database manager.

 

John Valentino, lineman, moved on to Hollywood where he represents many famous actors as an agent.

 

John Wright, linebacker, returned to his old job in Burbank and was nominated for an Oscar for editing the movies THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER (1990) and SPEED (1994).

 

And of course, I went on to become a hermit in the Ozark Mountains where I write stuff and talk to trees.

 

We were all draftees, serving two years in an office building on a small post in Atlanta, Georgia, doing our best to maintain our sanity. In those days, most draftees went across the Big Pond to the jungles of South Vietnam to dodge bullets.

 

A man named Jeffrey Mellinger was drafted into the U.S. Army in 1972. In July of 2011, after serving nearly 40 years, Command Sgt. Major Mellinger is preparing to retire from service. He is the last of the Vietnam Era draftees to retire.

 

Destiny is a curious thing.

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Quote for the Day -- "If a man watches three football games in a row, he should be declared legally dead." Erma Bombeck

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Bret Burquest, author of four novels, has recently published THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY (esoteric knowledge) and 1111 HAPPY TRAILS ROAD (humor) -- available on Amazon. He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and the ghost of Bronko Nagurski.

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In January of 1966, there were 215,000 American soldiers involved in a skirmish called the Vietnam Conflict and lots of GIs were coming home in body bags. In his State of the Union Address, President Johnson declared that the USA should increase troop strength and remain in Vietnam until the Communist aggression ended.

 

One week later, U.S. airplanes resumed bombing of North Vietnam after a 37-day pause.

 

Soon thereafter, I received an official federal form letter informing me that I was being conscripted (drafted) into the U.S. Army, so I quit my job as a computer programmer in St. Paul and had a final fling as a civilian.

 

On April 12, 1966, I reported for basic training at Ft. Leonard Wood, Mo., where I learned to stand in line, clean toilets and do squat thrusts. My drill sergeant, who had been raised by crazed wolverines, was not a pleasant fellow.

 

The number one song at the time was "Sounds of Silence" by Simon & Garfunkel.

 

"People talking without speaking...

People hearing without listening...

People writing songs that voices never share...

And no one dared disturb the sound of silence."

 

It wasn't exactly a peppy tune but it somehow captured the mood of the day.

 

During my eight weeks of basic training, soccer fans in Peru went on a rampage resulting in 248 deaths, a Buddhist monk set himself on fire in front of the U.S. Embassy in South Vietnam, the NFL and the AFL merged, the Supreme Court ruled that criminal suspects must be informed of their rights (Miranda vs. Arizona), and the Medicare insurance program went into effect.

 

I was too busy standing at attention to notice.

 

After basic training, I reported for duty at the Third Army Data Processing Company at Ft. McPherson in Atlanta, Ga., where I spent the remainder of my two year obligation of active duty as a data processing analyst.

 

It was fairly easy duty.

 

Even so, I never stopped counting the days until I could return to the real world once again.

 

The summer of 1966 was a time of social upheaval. There was a race riot in Atlanta near Ft. McPherson. There were also race riots in Omaha, Chicago, Cleveland, Detroit and elsewhere. Plus, opposition to our involvement in Vietnam was becoming increasingly widespread.

 

And I was stuck in Georgia shuffling Army paperwork.

 

In any event, I was drafted into the Army in April of 1966 and honorably did my duty.

 

It's hard to cut two years out of your life in your early 20s. I was just beginning my career as a computer programmer and had to start completely over again after my discharge. It took another year or two to catch back up to where I had been before I was drafted.

 

I've been plagued ever since by a reoccurring dream whereby I'm drafted into the Army a second time and am unable to convince anyone of authority that I don't belong there because I had already served and no longer had a military obligation.

 

The theme is always the same but usually it's on different military installations.

 

I also know two other former draftees I served with at Ft. McPherson who have the same reoccurring nightmare. Our duty wasn't very traumatic but for some reason we can't get past it. I suspect it has something to do with the helplessness of being stuck in a situation we didn't want to be in and the only way out was to do the time.

 

Young men and women who enlist into the military do so voluntarily and accept the consequences.

 

However, those who are drafted are forced into mandatory servitude whether they like it or not, and are torn between serving their country and losing their freedom. They must give up their freedom and individuality, and are required to be obedient to strict (often unreasonable) orders at all times.

 

Plus, many career soldiers resented draftees and made life tougher for them. A draftee is merely a pawn in someone else's war whose fate is dictated by others.

 

On April 12, 2006, I had a dream that I was finally discharged from my military obligation.

 

When I woke up and pondered the dream, I realized it was the fortieth anniversary, to the exact day, of my military service. I had served two years of active duty, and 40 years of conscription over again and again in my dreams.

 

Fortunately, I haven't had the dream since -- it only took me 40 years to get over it.

 

The subconscious mind is a reservoir of unresolved conflict. If you suppress it, your dreams will remind you.

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Quote for the Day -- "An Army is a collection of armed men obligated to obey one man." William Tecumseh Sherman

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Bret Burquest, author of four novels, has recently published THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY (esoteric knowledge) and 1111 HAPPY TRAILS ROAD (humor) -- available on Amazon. He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and a reservoir of unresolved conflicts.

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Apparently, there's a secret that has been floating around throughout the ages and discovered by a select few people, such as Aristotle, Plato, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King, Carl Jung, Henry Ford, Thomas Edison, Winston Churchill and others. These great people of history were "past secret teachers."

 

Inspired when she read the 1910 classic THE SCIENCE OF GETTING RICH by Wallace Wattles, author Rhonda Byrne has created a DVD (and book) titled THE SECRET sharing her discovery of the secret teachings.

 

Basically, the secret is the Law of Attraction -- in other words, whatever you wish for can be yours.

 

It's about positive thinking, as well as visualizing what it would be like to obtain whatever you wished to come true.

 

"If you think you can do a thing or think you can't do a thing, you're right." Henry Ford

 

The Law of Attraction has four steps.

 

Step 1: Visualize your goal. Close your eyes and picture what you desire in your mind. Then imagine the desire has already come true. Imagine how it would feel. Imagine how it would smell.

 

Step 2: Believe your desire will materialize. Don't worry about how or when -- just concentrate on the fact that it will become realized. It will happen. Continue to believe and the Law of Attraction will make it come true.

 

Step 3: Keep the faith. Doubt brings about failure. You must never sway from the desire. You must realize there is no other option than to succeed. You must believe everything you think about will come true.

 

Step 4: Be fearless. Be relentless. Do not procrastinate. Do not waiver at the critical moment. Do not sabotage your pending success. When the opportunity presents itself, you must boldly grab it.

 

Being a lazy person with a powerful imagination, this sounded like the perfect gimmick for me. So I spent the better part of several months imagining what my life would be like if I could achieve my lofty goals.

 

There I was, locked in my imagination, living a life of glory, dressed in purple, wearing number 50, knocking down Bears and Lions and Green Bay Packers. I was a middle linebacker for the Minnesota Vikings.

 

But no matter how hard I concentrated on my desire, I was never even asked to show up at Viking training camp. I was basically stuck on step 3. Even though my imagination was impeccable, doubts began to creep in.

 

Perhaps I was being a bit unrealistic. After all, in my 60s, I might actually be a little too old for professional football.

 

Therefore, I needed to come up with a more attainable goal -- something that was unlikely to happen yet possible.

 

Although I was a dashing figure of a man with plenty of wit and wisdom, I always found it difficult to hook up with the right woman. In fact, I usually found it difficult to hook up with any sort of woman at all. So I decided I would visualize a desirable, compatible woman who would enter my life and we would live happily ever after.

 

First of all, my ideal woman doesn't have to be perfect. Although I'm nearly perfect myself, perfection in others is too much to expect. Finding a compatible mate is hard enough without being unreasonable about it.

 

Physical traits aren't too important. Tall or short doesn't matter, a few extra pounds are okay, a full set of teeth is desirable and a certain degree of attractiveness helps. But no redheads (too fiery).

 

And it would also be really nice if she actually liked me.

 

Every day now, bi-hourly, I visualize this woman. She knocks on my door and utters something like "Hi there, big guy. I understand you're looking for me." Then our eyes meet and we instantly fall in love... or maybe not.

 

I may never be a professional middle linebacker but somewhere out there is a semi-perfect woman who has nothing better to do with her life than hang out with me.

 

But don't knock on my door before noon – I sleep late.

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Quote for the Day -- "The secrets of the universe are imprinted on the cells of your body." Dan Millman

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Bret Burquest, author of four novels, has recently published THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY (esoteric knowledge) and 1111 HAPPY TRAILS ROAD (humor) -- available on Amazon. He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and a secret desire to live in a world without secrets.

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"The world is incomprehensible, thus we must treat the world as it is -- a sheer mystery." Carlos Castaneda

 

The Dogon is a small African tribe in the southwest corner of the Sahara Desert.

 

A thousand years ago, the Dogon collectively refused to convert to Islam. Thereafter, Islamic law classified the Dogon, as well as other groups in the region, as being fair game for slavery, which included the murder of the males and enslavement of the women and children.

 

Consequently, the Dogon established their villages in defensive positions along the walls of sandstone cliffs in an area near the Niger River, south of Timbuktu in Mali, where the tribe has been basically isolated from the rest of the world.

 

The Dogon have a cave on their land with wall carvings over 700 years old. The holy man of the tribe sits at the entrance of the cave to protect it. When he dies, another holy man takes his place.

 

Some of the carvings depict a pod coming out of the sky and landing on three legs. The pod contains amphibious beings, called the Nommo, also known as the "masters of the water," which have fish-like characteristics.

 

The Nommo told the Dogon they came from the third planet out from Sirius. They related a story similar to the Lucifer rebellion within the Bible whereby the Dogon were one of the Nommo races, but had rebelled against the Creator and were relegated to Earth.

 

Robert Temple, a British archeologist, wrote a book in 1976 titled THE SIRIUS MYSTERY, which included the sacred knowledge of the Dogon. It seems the Dogon had detailed knowledge about astronomy for some 4,600 years.

 

Sirius is the brightest star in our sky. Orion's Belt contains three bright stars in a row. If you follow that line downward to the left, you will see a very bright star -- this is Sirius.

 

According to ancient Dogon sacred knowledge, the brightest star in the sky (Sirius) had a companion star that was invisible to the naked eye, with an orbit of 50 years, made out of the heaviest matter in the universe.

 

It wasn't until the early 1970s that this phenomenon could be confirmed by astronomy telescopes. Sirius, now known as Sirius A, is part of a binary star system and has a companion star, a white dwarf called Sirius B, naked to the human eye, which has an orbit of 50.1 years. According to scientific computations, Sirius B weighs about 2,000 pounds per cubic inch -- recent calculations believe it may even be considerably heavier than that.

 

The Dogon also had knowledge of the rings of Saturn, the moons of Jupiter, the existence of Neptune, Uranus and Pluto, and many other astronomical facts not discovered until modern telescopes came into existence. Also based on the Dogon knowledge, a red dwarf star was discovered in the Sirius system in 1996.

 

Thus, it has been postulated that the Dogon had been visited by extraterrestrial beings eons ago.

 

The continent of Africa is replete with tribal stories of advanced beings that descended from above (or ascended from below the earth) in ancient times and interfaced with the indigenous peoples.

 

For example, Zulu shaman Credo Mutwa claims that many thousand years ago "there arrived out of the skies, a race of people who were like lizards, people who could change shape at will... who married their daughters and produced a power race of Kings and tribal Chiefs."

 

A couple thousand years ago, an entity named Quetzalcoatl, which means "flying serpent" (reptilian being), was worshipped as the God of Knowledge in Mesoamerica (Central and South America). He was able to travel between the earth and the sky. Many Native American tribes have legends of beings that ascended from the stars.

 

Even the Bible has references to advanced beings who came to earth from elsewhere. In Genesis 6:4, the sons of the gods (advanced beings from beyond the earth) came down from the heavens and cohabited with the daughters of man (earthly women) creating a (hybrid) offspring called the Nephilim, who became the mighty ones (earthly gods, royalty).

 

According to some of the latest scientific discoveries, such as String Theory and Torsion Field physics, there may be as many as 11 dimensions (or 10 or 12, depending on the flavor of the day). Every dimension may contain multiple vibrations (frequencies) which are unaware (unseen, unknown) of other varying vibrations.

 

Life is a mystery. It unravels a bit more and more every day, with every answer leading to 11 more questions.

 

By the time we figure it out, we'll probably have to start all over again, with the invention of fire -- all the way to the invention of Lady Gaga.

 

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.

 

BB -- 11:11

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Quote for the Day -- "We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost in a galaxy tucked away in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people." Carl Sagan

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Bret Burquest, author of four novels, has recently published THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY (esoteric knowledge) and 1111 HAPPY TRAILS ROAD (humor) -- available on Amazon. He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and the ghost of Sonyah the Southern Oracle.

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An addict is someone who is obsessively devoted to something.

 

People can become addicted to all sorts of things, such as alcohol, caffeine, nicotine, sweets, sports, gambling, sex, travel, TV, gardening, gossip, etc. They can even be addicted to community growth.

 

Most people with common sense realize there is an optimal size to almost anything. A garden won’t flourish if plants are too close together or too far apart. A forest won’t flourish if trees are too close together or too far apart. An animal herd won’t flourish if there are too many animals for their range.

 

Bigger isn’t always better.

 

However, Growth Addicts are unaware of the ramifications of overpopulation. These are people who have some sort of inane behavioral quirk whereby they simply can’t accept the size and scope of the community in which they live. They are compelled by some sort of neurological disorder to stimulate community growth.

 

If you ever ask one of these Growth Addicts at what point the growth should level off, they’ll look at you as if you’re crazy.

 

To a Growth Addict, there never is enough growth.

 

To a Growth Addict, growth is a way of life.

 

Many local politicians are afflicted with this disorder. They promise to lure industry into their area under the preposterous notion that this would have a positive impact on the entire community. Many real estate folks are also afflicted with this disorder. They travel to far away locations and attempt to persuade people to relocate to their area. Some local business owners are also under the delusion that community expansion will benefit them.

 

I lived a few miles outside a small town in Arizona in 1986-1992. It had a population of about 3,000 and seemed like an ideal place to live, especially after having spent nearly 12 years in Los Angeles.

 

However, it didn’t take long to sour on the place.

 

The city council was made up of bankers and real estate brokers. They had this simple-minded notion that bigger was better and that if they didn’t do something drastic the world would pass them by. Their idea of progress was to attract industry so they could grow at a much faster rate than would normally take place.

 

Their first course of action was to spend huge sums of taxpayer funds building an industrial park near the airport. Naturally, as bankers and land brokers, they all got a piece of the action.

 

When no one would build a business in their overpriced industrial park, they spent huge sums of taxpayer funds promoting the fiasco, including expensive advertisements in business publications in such places as Taiwan and Hong Kong. To date, the industrial park still remains empty.

 

During another brainstorming session, the city council determined the town would be more attractive if it had “funky” pink sidewalks, just like the ones in a popular ski resort town in Colorado. Tons of taxpayer dollars went into the project. All the concrete sidewalks in town were ripped up and replaced with pink, inlaid bricks. When the dust finally settled, it looked like cowboy town with pink sidewalks.

 

Progress, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. One person’s idea of progress is another person’s nightmare.

 

Promoting business and encouraging population growth should not be a function of local government, which has enough problems simply keeping up with the natural flow of change.

 

The flaw in this thinking is obvious. As more industry is added to an area, more people will move there to take advantage of the expanding economy. Suddenly, you’re back to the same old problem of needing to add more industry to support the growing population.

 

Local business won’t benefit from this ploy. As the area grows, new businesses will pop up, creating more competition -- a bigger pie with smaller slices. Eventually, local businesses will become overrun by national chains.

 

Nothing will be improved -- there will just be more of everything, including more traffic, more crime and a need for more solutions, requiring more tax revenue.

 

Most people live in a certain area because they like it there. For those who yearn for a larger community, it would be easier to move elsewhere than scheme to make the area grow faster than it would otherwise grow naturally.

 

Rather than move on, Growth Addicts insist upon spoiling things for everyone else. Bringing more business, more industry and more people into a community doesn’t benefit anyone, including those who have an insatiable urge to hasten progress.

 

Most areas will grow at a nice steady pace without Growth Addicts forcing their will upon the natural flow of progress.

 

Perhaps, Growth Addicts dislike their community because they subconsciously dislike themselves. Instead of taking responsibility for their own happiness they manipulate the world around them in a vain attempt to alter a reality they blame for their own perceived misfortunes. If so, Growth Addicts are in dire need of psychological help.

 

Some of my best friends are growth addicts. Even members of my own family are infected with this insidious malady. They can’t seem to help it and don’t even appear to be aware of their dysfunctional condition.

 

If you’re not a Growth Addict, read no further.

 

An intervention is a confrontation, usually initiated by family and friends, directed toward an addict in an attempt to rid the addict of his or her harmful addiction.

 

Consider this to be an intervention.

 

I am your friend.

 

You have a serious mental disorder.

 

I want to help you get well.

 

STOP IT. STOP IT. STOP IT.

 

We don’t need your guidance and control.

 

You’re obsession for growth only makes things worse.

 

More industry means more people, creating more problems that will be solved by bringing in more industry. Then more industry will attract more people, requiring even more industry, which will again attract more people, and so on, and so on.

 

This is a vicious cycle without end.

 

Bigger isn’t better -- it’s just bigger.

 

You have an unhealthy addiction.

 

It’s unhealthy for you and everyone around you.

 

Get over it.

 

Your problem isn’t the size of the community; your problem is you.

 

If you have a compulsion to make changes, look inward.

 

Stop and smell the roses.

 

Or move to a bigger city.

___________

 

Quote for the Day -- "Concentrated power is not rendered harmless by the good intentions of those who create it." Milton Friedman

___________

 

Bret Burquest, author of four novels, has recently published THE REALITY OF THE ILLUSION OF REALITY (esoteric knowledge) and 1111 HAPPY TRAILS ROAD (humor) -- available on Amazon. He lives in the Ozark Mountains with a dog named Buddy Lee and where work is a four-letter word.

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