Blood Sucking Vampires

Throughout this blooding sucking vampire craze, maybe a dribble of truth can splatter out amongst the filth. HBO’s series, True Blood has taken the vampire mythology one bite further. The question is why, why are vampires still with us after so many years? This author, also being of sizable age, sees the issue with simple eyes. Reoccurring vampire themes in mainstream consciousness occur because vampires are real. Yes Sir, bloodsucking creatures with power, wealth, and a savage heart, live high at the tippy tops of society.

When Russel, a king vampire on True Blood, goes crazy over his dead lover Talbot, whom met theTrue death. He pursues a rage against his own kind and humans. The difficult part in dealing with this king is his age. Russell is three thousand years old, and no other vampire can meet his strength. What are people to do with such a formidable enemy? Is this not similar to the elite of our world? Do they not sit in high isolation behind invisible walls that elevate their position of superiority? The Corporations, the Politian’s, the Bureaucrats, the law- makers, and the greedy all plunge their fangs deep in to the backs of the labor force. The surplus of conscious effort that gives valve to any thing manmade is the vampires take. Without the amalgamation of elements to produce a new idea, a tool or the brute force of raw energy to create feats of inventions, which take us to the bottom of the ocean, or far away galaxies to the edge of our understanding, there is no growth. Value is constructed from many and the many should profit from the bounty. Wake up, brothers and sisters! This is our fault too. These vampires suck the life right out of us all, so they may survive another day. Liking to Russell, the supper elite create the conditions of this life and have been doing this practice for centuries. The elite have positioned themselves for generations to this foot hold on society. We sit along the sidelines waiting for new plans to be handed down with our heads tilted sideways inviting the bloodsucker.

Vampires are an arrogant lot, having forgotten their linage. Without the humans, vampires could not exist, nor be born. Is this not the same for the supper elite? They are people too; yet, maybe of a different species but they must select a human to turn or suffer the implosion of their own isolation. Nature has allowed such a formation of beings to evolve. However, they are blood sucking thieves who only take and do not give. What do they add to our world? How do we benefit with a parasite on our necks? One could argue that the position of the supper elite is a necessary element in our society. It is this structure that defines the roles for us all and the supper elite’s existence is a necessary consequence. It is this super structure that we all benefit from by following its policies. This is true however, how is the majority of cells truly benefiting by supporting 5% of the world’s population with 95% of the worlds resources, so they may sip Pina Colada’s on a warm beach?

This super structure is built on belief. It is theses beliefs from which the vampire’s draw their power. We give the vampires power by our daily march to their beat. Simple questions surface, is the ruling class taking people to new enlightened levels, are they respecting the value of all life, and other living systems in our world? Of course not, for they are parasites only thinking of their next feed.

Vampires might be stronger, and immortal but without a food and reproductive source they will die. The cards lie within the hands of humans, it is their choice to allow the bloodsucker to live. If humans perpetuate beliefs that give the super elite power, we will remain a food source. However, if we enlighten ourselves and open our eyes to the realities before us, the potency of power weakens as our disbelief in our policies materializes.

The time for fear is over now. How many more generations of sons / daughters do we need to throw on the coals of war so the vampires can profit from? How much more can we take without a universal health care program, or a real system of academia that carries our nation to noble pursuits of life other than collecting little green pieces of paper?

This author is tired of the parasitic policies the United States. This country has too much, takes too much to have so many people living in stress and poverty, waiting for the economic fangs to sink into the working man’s neck, for the next feed. Haven’t humans had enough of supporting alienated creatures that only sustain us for energy? Yank these bloodsuckers from our necks. Enough of thieving parasites that only feed off us so their bank accounts grow. People of the world splinter your wooden fences and sharpen the tips, but leave them a bit rough, it’s time to hunt some vampire scum.

• Share this:
• Share
  
  
  

Skating Do – The Style of Consciousness

Skating Do – Part III. Is skateboarding an art form?

So…does skate boarding measure up to the true art label?  Does it have the substance buried beneath the untailored clothes to be honored as such? What does skating boarding offer up to be worthy of a life pursuit?  Let us examine principles I have learned from past masters of different disciplines.

For skate boarding to receive the title of Skate Boarding Do, it must fulfill certain criteria.  There must exist a tradition of etiquette, perhaps not presented with traditional symbols such as loin-cloths or dark belts around the waist, but nonetheless it needs to be present.   And we know that such a tradition of etiquette is indeed present in skateboarding, reflecting with sharp clarity that it is not just a sport, but also a set of principles.  For example, take some damned fool who hasn’t the awareness of where the local drop-in is.  This causes confusion, and the timing of other skaters gets out of whack, which can lead to dangerous conditions for everyone in the bowl.  Respect is the operative word when anyone new enters into a skate park.  We do not skate in a vacuum.  Stand back and observe how things work then slowly join in.  Skating is only exclusive to Kooks, people who don’t know the way.  When infractions occur, the individual is surely dealt with quickly.  For the land has rules, and without them the art cannot evolve.

To be considered an art, it must be available to a wide spectrum of ages.  Further, skateboarding must be open to both genders, and all creeds.  As a true art form, skateboarding must transform the practitioner, evolving him to higher states of consciousness.  This is done by the practice of continual refinement of techniques, which reveal character limitations the practitioner must overcome.

I see riders that have been skating for over twenty years.  They have incorporated the art into their personal lives, and have passed the art down to their children (or new members).  I am reminded of grand masters that started as young boys in their art, and follow the code to the day they pass on.  The art is the way, it’s the path they use to make sense of the world.  It’s the way that they develop themselves throughout their lives.  Practiced over a lifetime, the art becomes the manifestation of the knowledge the practitioner has acquired.  The art becomes the vessel, the medium for the artists to express their unique perspective of the universe.  By conquering the boundaries, they break through their own fears.  So what better example of positive development than as a skater?

There must be etiquette and tolerance to achieve this art. Respect to follow comrades and artists when practicing, for without this there is no exchange of knowledge.  The path is not for fame and glory, which may or may not happen.  No, the path of the artist is self-enlightenment.  If you find yourself in the burning light of fame, remember to give as much as you receive.  And remember, the demon is always lurking below the surface of the concrete…waiting.  The land is the environment where we grow.  Always give it your utmost respect for the higher the state of consciousness shown causes the flowers of creation to bloom more vibrant and bountiful than ever.

Skating Do - They Style of Consciousness

Part 2:  Reward vs. The Demon

What I see at the skate park every day is utterly amazing. I’ve been around for ages, and I must say that the skills being developed there are truly masterful. Think of skaters of all ages riding on small wooden boards, with fast wheels beneath, on smooth waves of unforgiving concrete. Gliding like birds above the crests of the ocean they enjoy each session. It’s the ultimate illusion of safety, from the 10 ft high wall they ride so peacefully. Yet the elegance of their actions betrays their bedraggled appearance of ratty clothes, tight jeans, tattoos, cigarettes, beanies…and a Venice skunk always nearby.

Then it happens…and you awaken to the gritty side of this art. If you closely examine the cement, you will see with dark splatters. Some unlucky bastard soars around the edge with the gods on his wing until…BAM! Something horrible happens, as if a demon reaches up from beneath the cement, and grabs the wheels in full stride. Like the proverbial gremlin on the aircraft, this demon is always plotting to snare his next skater. And when he does Icarus on wheels finds himself chewing gravel. A loud snap fills his ears as he absorbs the shattering impact. Disorientation follows…and half a second later – PAIN! Some skaters say they even hear a faint whisper of laughter in the distance? Some claim it is the demon, and his malevolent purpose…to crush the egos of those who would reach too high - thus keeping the conscious spirit contained.

The demon demands respect. If he is not given adequate supply, he shall extract his due, in blood. Maybe the wise see him less frequently, but eventually, he visits them all. A grim and clear reminder to all artist’s that serious injury is just the next session away. Yet the skaters rise up every time, resurrected stronger and with the burning desire to smite the demon once and for all. One of the great pillars of skateboarding rests on breaking the rules, their weapon a spear of destiny against the mighty demon. And with this weapon of mass destruction, they shatter the status quo…with the balls of a lion and grace of a grand master, they explode with fury, and smite the demon to his face.

Master Skater’s fly up vertical walls like painters on canvas. They ride high up to the top of the pool on the coping (edge of pool). The only sound is metal grinding on stone around the perimeter, as the Master’s sharpen their axels like a blade. They zip around the bowls with grace and precision, like an acrobat’s wet dream, before exploding into an aerial maneuver above the pool. Conscious disrespect for all sensible actions of safety is thrown into the demons face…for the shear high of executing such a mad trick. And for what purpose? The conscious spirit is always looking to evolve- always reaching for the clouds. Creating new paths, ways to ride, is how the conscious spirit speaks. Each artist skates in his own unique way, each one with his own knowledge, each one sculpting himself into an acrobatic masterpiece.

Style…one must skate with style. The art demands a unique, conscious perspective from each and every artist. This was the creed of the original Zypher team. One must flow with the board like a ballet dancer, yet with ample doses of testosterone. Knowing how much speed is necessary to roll up to the coping and balance like a tight rope walker above an empty pool – the hallmark sign of extreme precision. How one rides manifests in a completely different manner to the next. The key – the all-important key - is to find one’s own style. Letting oneself go, open to the whims of the gods, while ripping around on such a precarious vehicle frees the mind.

The practitioner learns to tap into their own potential, never before realized, and builds a solid foundation of confidence. An Old Master I know told me many years ago, “the greater the risk, the greater the knowledge.” The demon awaits, with its razor sharp claws just beneath the surface waiting to grab a wheel, nudge the center of weight just enough, or cause the wheels to slip out from under the artist; with every fall, the risk of death, a broken neck, broken bones, and flowing blood are very real with every session.

Skating Do - They style of consciousness

Part I. Historical

Remember the damn teacher yelling, “don’t run around the pool”? I was young but I was still irritated. Logical in her assumption, but passion doesn’t wait, so throw that all aside like a Burbank starlet. There exists a place where more difficult activities than walking around a filled pool of water are the worry. How about an empty pool, 10ft deep, hard concrete with multiple obstacles high and low and now your on a board with wheels zipping around like a electron in box. Yes a place does exist that has a definitely more interesting complete guide for the disregard of all logical physical boundaries and safety. The people I am speaking of are the skate boarding practitioners. I have witnessed an edgy sub-cultural of people that over 30 plus years are still feeling the wake of the initial movement. What is this madmen referring to you may be asking? Well don’t forget about the word mad, it will be needed later to describe the feats being created by such mad people. Venice California, a slue of twisted mutations of all ages, all diseased, all artists and assholes alike woven into a stream of chaotic mad energy and allowed to run free in a mix of higher tolerance. Yes, I claim that what I witness each morning at the skate park is nothing less than a new art form, which has stretched around the world.

The rant is necessary for I must capture the spirit of this art form. It is a glorious thing when one realizes the feats these practioners are succeeding at each day. Respect must be given for certain death lies ever so close. However this does not detour any age, sex, or class from joining the ranks. There are some rules as with anything but the one I’m interested in is: if it aint’ got style – its shit. I claim that this concept is the ideological soil for the mind to cultivate its consciousness from within. The act of skateboarding frees the mind from tomorrow and yesterday. Only the now can manipulate the skateboard so gracefully over smooth glassy concrete walls waiting to sink their teeth in. Skate boarding is an art form by all rights. By the end you should support me with the new label for this continuing movement, Skating Do – The style of consciousness. If you disagree, grab a board and try for yourself – Kook!

In many eastern philosophies and or martial arts the Do finishes the label of the art. Tae Kwon Do, Karate Do, Jeet kwon Do, ect, Do is defined as Art and or way of life. When contemplating this meaning as a younger lad, I realized the significance of this back then. To accept a mental set of principles that guide ones life until the act of living expresses the art form without thought. Ones life becomes the art. The movements, gestures, everything ceases to be mechanical the actions flow as milk does to a suckling infant.

Skateboarding is highly misinterpreted art form, due to its gritty anti-establishment attitude. My response is, “no shit.” Of course it’s anti establishment, modern day skating was birthed out of the ruins of a beach ghetto. Venice California was a place forgotten and left to rot by others. Why should they give a shit about conformity? Thirty-five years ago Venice was a slum, blue rag against red, V13 tagged across neighborhood and certainly no yuppie children in sight. This became the perfect soil for the release of pent up social energy. A few young surfers looked at this environment with a new eye and let their imaginations extend over their limitations. Without realizing it they were setting the building blocks for a new art form to evolve, which is shared by thousands of all ages today. They stepped out across their fears riding on the pure ecstasy of their vision. Homage of origin must be given to the Zephyr skateboarding team of the mid 1970’s. Without these young pioneers there would be no modern day skate boarding, as we know it today.

***

Big Waves Big Fears

The news of a big swell hitting northern California jolted me into excitement. I would be able to witness potentially huge waves up close and personal. No more movies, videos or online pictures to set my internal fears. Now, I would be able to ask myself the questions of, should I…could I…and would I cross this line of surfing.
Rising above Steamer lane's recognizable point, the tip of a big peak darts across the famous Santa Cruz break. A surfer prepares to FREEZE... and ride the double overhead sets that rolled in this morning. This was the first time I had ever seen waves this size with so much shape. Growing up as a kid in Dogtown, when waves reached over 10ft, it meant un-ride able ceilings of water coming down hard. I itched for my board because these big boys I could ride. I realized lines could be crossed but also understood new lines would be drawn... north.




Spectators on the cliff gazed at the A-frame's peal towards shore, as few surfers were present. I drove up the coast to the witness the biggest waves in California. Mavericks, the only California wave that compares to the powerful waves of Hawaii. As I traveled north up highway 1, my attention was constantly taken away from the road. Several times I slammed on the brakes to snap a few pictures of the oceans beauty and wrath.

Finally reaching Mavericks I climbed to a high vantage point to watch the 15 - 18 ft waves break a half-mile off shore. I was somehow surprised to see surfers carrying their long pointy guns to the beach. I guess I was only surprised because I know my own fears as a surfer, and to venture out was to much for me to tackle. I should also mention that the cold water and porous sharp rocks didn't make for an inviting scene. Note the size of the boats and surfers against the incoming set.

However I saw something strange in the eyes of the locals. They were relaxed and blaring smiles, while wishing each other well as they set out to the main peak. I had forgotten that even under conditions of this magnitude that surfing was still a source of fun. Yes the ocean demands respect but the ultimate goal remains the same...to enjoy and relish in being a part of something powerful. I realized my own limits had been redrawn.

Old fears were no longer present but now bigger boundaries where in my scope. The men riding these giants were surfers like myself and at one point there was a first time for them too. As foreign a thought it was I realized one day I would squeeze into a 4:3, grab my sleek gun, and begin the long walk out to face my fears.