"I of my own knowledge…"

Robert Clarke

Undoubtedly, you’ve heard by now of the imminent publication of Carl Jung’s Red Book. The Jungian world is agog. Me too, and for a very personal reason.

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My friend Jim Price sends me a poem that reminded me of (1) How I interact with the guys upstairs and (2) some of what they have told me about the interaction among spirit, body and soul. And, it’s a neat poem. 

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A friend sent me this beautiful image, which appeared in the Netherlands, and is said to be the largest crop circle to date.

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The whole evolution debate that deforms our politics and social life is itself deformed by the assumption that the only “scientific” defense of evolution assumes that mutations that give the affected species a competitive advantage occur spontaneously, “by accident,” never by the intent of the organism or the species of (perish the thought!) of any agency beyond the organism or species other than sheer chance.

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I am currently engaged in putting together a book that I call So You Think Your Life Was Wasted. I have already written my part; the remainder — the bulk of the book — consists of conversations I had in the years 2006 and 2007 with various people contacted internally. I came this morning to this one, which I post for the sake of the encouragement it may offer you.

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This article from New Scientist (found via Schwartzreport) ends with this statement: “If the results turn out to be real, she says, the implications are profound: we may have to rewrite physics and chemistry.” To which I add: It’s about time!

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If you’ve been to the blog in the past few days, you will have noticed that it has changed. A lot more changes coming. For the third time in a row, another friend to the rescue.

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Speaking to “dead” people involves a lot of guesswork even after the fact. This morning I went fishing to see what Papa Hemingway thought about a book, and — more to the point, for me — how certain aspects of communication between this side and the other side work. Or, sometimes, don’t work.

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How do you try to estimate the effect on your life of a habit that continues 43 years?

It was September 6, 1966. I was 20 years old, at the end of a summer of working in a glass factory, a few days away from heading out for my sophomore year in college. For a long time I had wanted to keep a journal – a diary, may be what I called it then – and finally I bought one.

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I mentioned yesterday that I had discovered a book called The Hemingway Patrols: Ernest Hemingway And His Hunt For U-Boats, by Terry Mort. I highly recommend it. The author respects Hemingway without being blind to his failings. Indeed, he seems troubled by them, in the same way I am. That’s a long way from condemnation, and it’s an attitude we don’t see enough of.  The book is copyrighted 2009, published by Scribner, of course, Hemingway’s long-time publisher.

 This is from the epilogue, “The Meaning Of Nothing”:
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