The Imposter Magi
boy from the village ran into
our yard at lunchtime on the fifth of January and announced at the top of his
lungs that the Three Kings were coming to the
schoolhouse that night at nine o'clock. That's how news in Las
Chacras is announced - by word of mouth. I remembered that a neighbor had asked
for a donation to buy sweets and balloons a few days before. Making enquiries
on the main road, I found out that the Kings were scheduled to begin their
descent to the school from the almacen at nine o'clock, which meant that they would more likely begin at nine-thirty
and arrive at ten. My
wife, twelve-year-old son and I left the house at nine-thirty for the fifteen
minute walk to the one-room schoolhouse. We carried flashlights to light our
way down the narrow dirt road. Although we know the road well, it is advisable
not to walk without light in order to avoid the unpleasant surprise of stepping
on a snake - poisonous or not - or a scorpion. My son is too old to believe
that the Three Kings were coming to Las Chacras, but he wasn't adverse to
receiving a bag of sweets and witnessing the spectacle.
Continue reading - Español
The Trump Presidency - Or
How to Further Enrich “The Masters of the Universe” by Noam Chomsky and David Barsamian
David Barsamian: You have spoken
about the difference between Trump’s buffoonery, which gets
endlessly covered by the media, and the actual policies he is
striving to enact, which receive less attention. Do you think he has
any coherent economic, political, or international policy goals? What
has Trump actually managed to accomplish in his first months in
Noam Chomsky: There is a diversionary process under way,
perhaps just a natural result of the propensities of the figure at
center stage and those doing the work behind the curtains.
At one level, Trump’s antics
ensure that attention is focused on him, and it makes little
The Most Dangerous Man in the World by Tom Engelhardt
Let’s start with the universe and work
our way in. Who cares? Not them because as far as we know they
aren’t there. As far as we know, no one exists in our galaxy or
perhaps anywhere else but us (and the other creatures on this
all-too-modest planet of ours). So don’t count on any aliens
out there caring what happens to humanity. They won’t.
As for it
-- Earth -- the planet itself can’t, of course, care, no matter
what we do to it. And I’m sure it won’t be news to
you that, when it comes to him
-- and I mean, of course, President Donald J. Trump, who reputedly
has a void where the normal quotient of human empathy might be --
don’t give it a second’s thought. Beyond himself,
his businesses, and possibly (just possibly) his family, he clearly
couldn’t give less of a damn about us or, for that matter, what
happens to anyone after he departs this planet...
A Visit to Heaven and Hell - Mapping Planet Earth by Eduardo Galeano
By day, the sun guides them. By night, the stars.
Paying no fare, they travel without passports and without
forms for customs or immigration. Birds are the only free beings in this world inhabited by
prisoners. They fly from pole to pole, powered by food alone, on the
route they choose and at the hour they wish, without ever asking
permission of officials who believe they own the heavens.
The world is on the move.
On board are more shipwrecked souls than successful
Thousands of desperate people die en route, before they
can complete the crossing to the promised land, where even the poor
are rich and everyone lives in Hollywood.
The illusions of any who manage to arrive do not last
Toto the Fourth by Frank Thomas Smith
After leaving behind from a relatively successful business career just as the re-engineering and downsizing craze began, I slouched with my eyes half-closed into retirement blues and hit bottom when my wife died. An old friend, sympathizing, invited me to spend a week or two at his home in a retirement village in Florida. The idea appealed to me about as much as taking home leftovers in a doggy-bag, but he was well-meaning and I wanted preserve our friendship, so I accepted. On the third day in Boca Raton I decided to go to the beach. My host excused himself, saying that the ocean was dangerous and there were no lifeguards on duty on weekdays and anyway there were several perfectly good pools in the Village. I drove past the entrenched retirement villages and shopping malls and over the drawbridge to the deserted beach. At the water's edge the rising sun cast a wavy red line across the sea from the horizon to my ankles. The sea was rough, but I've always been a good swimmer so it didn't worry me. I pushed my way through the breakers to where the chest-high water was relatively calm and floated with my eyes closed. As often happens recently, I went back not to yesterday but way beyond. The decades rolled through my mind like gently rocking waves, tempting me into a kind of half-sleep.
Español - Toto Cuarto
Prospect Park - a mystery play (scenes 1 and 2 of seven scenes) by Frank Thomas Smith
audience] I invited you here today in order to tell you about
something extraordinary that happened to me recently here in Prospect
Park. Thomas Wolfe wrote that “Only the dead know Brooklyn”.
Maybe that's why it still has a bad reputation. Partly it's deserved
of course, but not entirely. There are parts of Brooklyn that don't
deserve a bad reputation. Brooklyn is very big, you know, and that's a reason why
it's so hard to know. And it's only one borough of New York City,
which is bigger than some countries, like Switzerland or Singapore.
Actually New York City should secede from the Union and Brooklyn
could then be a state, or province...don't you think? And Brooklyn
could be divided into its original natural neighborhoods: Flatbush,
Greenpoint, Williamsburg, Bedford-Stuyvesant, Bay Ridge, Canarsie,
Crown Heights, and the rest. Aren't they beautiful names?
Love in the Time of Spies (2) by Frank Thomas Smith
Not that we were going anywhere or there was any reason for the march,
except that it was in the training schedule: ten-mile night march
with weapons and full field pack. That was during one of the hardest
parts of the Vietnam war when we were getting the shit kicked
out of us by the Vietcong. That meant that there were very few
noncoms and officers around to train new guys like us. In fact, we
only had the Company Commander, Captain Nugent, who was an Enlisted
Man at heart, but couldn’t help it if they gave him a
battlefield commission for being a hero in Vietnam. He was full of
shrapnel and stuff, which must have hurt a lot, so he consumed quite
a bit of whiskey – you know, to ease the pain. Then there was
First Sergeant Quinn, also a battle-scarred veteran. He ran the
company, but I guess First Sergeants run most companies. The Field
First Sergeant – the one who did the actual training –
was Silas Taylor, a wiry little guy from Georgia who had spent a lot
of time in Vietnam, was wounded a few times, and even had a Silver
Star. I was surprised – we all were – when I learned that
he was only twenty-one years old, because he had eyes that looked a
Miryam - Part Six by Luise Rinser
Philippos, the strict
Baptist disciple, said: Yes, Rabbi, but when a tree bears bad fruit,
one cuts it down. Didn’t you once curse a fig tree because it
bore no fruit in winter?
What are you talking
about, Philippos! You’re talking nonsense. Who told you that?
And you believed it?
Whether it happened of
not, cursed or not, Rabbi: you expect too much.
Do I demand figs from you
in winter? Didn’t the farmer have indulgence with the weeds?
Doesn’t the housewife wait patiently until the dough is
leavened? And doesn’t the shepherd look for every lost sheep?
Why do you speak then of cursing? I don’t want damning and
destruction, but life. I have come to bring peace. But before peace
exists, rupture arises...
The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde
High above the
city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince.Â He was gilded
all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires,
and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt. He was very much
admired indeed.Â "He is as beautiful as a weathercock," remarked one
of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic
tastes; "only not quite so useful," he added, fearing lest people
should think him unpractical, which he really was not."Why can't you
be like the Happy Prince?" asked a sensible mother of her little boy who
was crying for the moon.Â "The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for
anything." "I am glad
there is some one in the world who is quite happy," muttered a
disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue."He looks just
like an angel," said the Charity Children as they came out of the
cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores.
Bio-dynamic Agriculture Course - Lectures Three and Four plus a Q and A session by Rudolf Steiner
The earthly and cosmic forces of which I have spoken work in the
processes of agriculture through the substances of the earth. And we
shall only be able to move on to the different practical applications
during the next few days if we occupy ourselves today more closely
with the question of how these forces work through the earth's
substances. But first we must make a digression and inquire into the
activity of nature in general. One
of the most important questions that can be raised in discussing
agricultural production is that concerning the significance and
influence of nitrogen on agriculture as a whole...
Manicheism by Rudolf Steiner
have been asked to say something about Freemasonry. This cannot be
understood, however, until we have examined the original spiritual
currents related to Freemasonry, which can be seen as its sources. An
even more important spiritual current than Rosicrucianism was
Manicheism. So first we need to speak about this much more important
movement and then, at a later time, we can shed a light on
I have to say on this subject is connected with various things which
influence the spiritual life of today and will influence it in time
to come. And to illustrate how one who is actively engaged in this
field constantly comes across something — if only obliquely —
I would point out, by way of introduction, that on many occasions I
have described the problem of Faust as of particular importance for modern spiritual life.
Spiritual-scientific Cosmology - Lecture 3 of 3 - by Rudolf Steiner
A week ago, I tried to explain the manner of thinking, so strange to
western minds, through which the theosophist attains his insights and knowledge
of the cosmos. The sketchy character these lectures necessarily have prevents
me from delving more profoundly into theosophical cosmology. Nevertheless, I
will attempt today to give you at least a picture in descriptive form of the
origin of the world based on Theosophy. I beg those who have scientific bents
to bear in mind that in the course of three short lectures it isn't possible to
go into scientific explanations of what I will say today.
"Apologia" concerning the publication of the the First Class Lessons: English /
The Ballad of Reading Goal by Oscar Wilde
In Reading gaol by Reading town
There is a pit of shame,
And in it lies a wretched man
Eaten by teeth of flame,
In burning winding-sheet he lies,
And his grave has got no name.
And there, till Christ call forth the
In silence let him lie:
No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh:
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.
And all men kill the thing they love,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
The Second Coming by W. B. Yeats
and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand...
Words and Music
Summertime Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald
the livin' is easy
the cotton is high
your mamma's good lookin'
hush little baby
of these mornings
going to rise up singing
you'll spread your wings
you'll fly to the sky...
Continue reading and listen.
You can find us under the
Southern Cross in the Traslasierra Valley, Province of Córdoba, Argentina. Visitors always welcome. Just follow the sign that reads: La Cruz del Sur.
Frank Thomas Smith, Editor
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