What?

I figured I better give y'all something decent cause that last one was basically prolestyzing. I don't even like to do it but this stuff has got to get out somehow. There's lots of technology to live better out right now and almost all of it is so fringe that no one believes it (not that any new ager thinkers try to be at all normal). I'm not a wack-o but I've tried just about everything. And I'm beholden to none. I don't give a shit about yoga, meditation, eating right, self-help, therapy, medication, Ammachi, Oprah, Ekhart Tolle, or even art past each of their ability to enhance life on a soul level. And in pretty much all of them that is limited. A lot of us start pimping what we've got as soon as we've got it. In me too--so don't start thinking I'm that cute either.

Once you realize that no one is going to save your ass but you (and that you don't want anyone to either) you'll be 90% of the way there. And probably a rock star in your own capacity.

I was walking down Broadway here in Chicago the other day (and to be honest, feeling a little gay because I was wearing a shirt with no sleeves on and a pink backpack) when I was yelled at by a group of stumbling college aged guys. White Gold! they yelled. Actually it was just one of them, who came over and introduced himself as Guppy. I was thinking drunk frat boys and braced myself for some bullshit (not unheard of so close to Wrigleyville--even in the gay part of town). He looked like a hippy but that doesn't mean anything these days.

Instead, he exclaimed honesty he loved my shirt. And where could he get one. He said he was on his way to some large gathering in Virginia (?) and that everyone there needed to see it. He even offfered to trade me some drugs for it. His eyes were spinning.

I told him to come to my house the next day and he of course didn't, but he went off yelling my address out to his buddies in an attempt to remember it. Guppy was on drugs. Probably Acid. And I can think of nothing more promising for the future of White Gold than a drugged out hippy fixating on the t-shirted White G logo. In fact, I take it as specific proof that he's tired of washing around in the broken promises of the counter-culture and ready to pull himself up into the holiness of his birthright. That he is determined to be part of the creative integrity that will use the material economy for its own higher purposes. As freaked-out, as funky, as plain, as beautiful, as clean (his shirt--which he wanted to trade--was kinda nasty), as straight, as creative, as relaxed as that may be.

He was already doing what he wanted, he just couldn't do it sober, in the morning, with a discipline necessary to bring the world's economy onto his terms, or delicately. But I know he'll get there. Like me he's placing more emphasis on the feeling of what he wants than the look. And he's talking to people in public and expressing his vulnerability and enthousiasm. Just not sober, or alone, or very lovingly. But eventually, these same skills, once he commits to them with his whole life and not just when he's macked will lead him right where he wants. I guarantee it.