Wow! Blows me away! N there're so many great clips on that site! They're incredibly cool video/film art! The intros, like in this one with the café n the chatter n clinking plates & cutlery n the credits n everything. Just brilliant! I hope to do something as cool some day! I don't know too many bands represented but there sure is lots to dig n discover! Fantastic
So yeah saw good ol Lanegan on Sunday n he was brilliant, as usual. I don't think I've ever seen him not be brilliant.. but this time it sort of struck home how good he is. The sounds were clear crispy n he really delivered with style n passion I'd say. N a few times he looked into the audience n it actually seemed like he was singing right to you. It was really cool. Great show n really cool to get to see him again. Hopefully some day I'll get to jam with the ol crooner;)
here's the video for The Gravedigger's Song:
n this one is one of me all time favorites:
't were a good nite!
On Monday I got me some good stuff from Natura Zone in Helsinki.
This here:
and some of this here:
n some of these:
and a couple of these:
and I coulda bought tons n loads more good stuff! Highly recommended to those of yous in HKI or if your just visiting. Good, cheaper that most other health shops around, friendly ol teddybear shop keeper, good stuff, central. Great place!
N I got home n took the doggy out n didn't even do much n it was incredibly late ( like it is now too..=s)
Then yesterday I met up with an old friend n we went to see Michael Winslow (the noise dude from Police Academy etc.) in HKI. He was great! SUch a crazy guy. N quite interesting to get to see him cos I used to (as I imagine many others have too..) dig him as kid n try n make the same kinds of noises n such n then here he is years years later, Larvelle Jones, live on stage. Pretty cool=)
(sorry couldn't finda better one for the occasion..)
Yeah n all you Finnish speakers check out that Jaakko Halmetoja link I posted yesterday! Amazing man!
Gonna go see ol Mark Lanegan tnight!
Here's Krishnamurti:
It was a happy morning and the soft light covered the land and the endless beauty of life. Meditation is the essence of this beauty, expressed or silent. Expressed, its takes form, substance; silent it's not to be put into word, form or color. From silence, expression or action have beauty, are whole, and all struggle, conflict cease. Without passion there's no creation. Total abandonment brings this unending passion. Abandonment with a motive is one thing, and without purpose, without calculation, it is another. That which has an end, a direction, is short lived, becomes mischievous and commercial, vulgar. The other, not driven by any cause, intention or gain, has no beginning and no ending. This abandonment is the emptying of the mind of the "me", the self. This "me" can lose itself in some activity, in some comforting belief or fanciful dream but such loss is the continuing of the self in another form, identifying with another ideology and action. The abandonment of the self is not an act of will, for the will is the self. Any movement of the self, horizontally or vertically, in any direction, is still within the field of time and sorrow. Thought may give itself over to something, sane or insane, reasonable or idiotic, but being in its very structure and nature fragmentary, its very enthusiasm, excitement, soon turn into pleasure and fear. In this area the abandonment of the self is illusory, with little meaning. The awareness of all this is the awakening to the activities of the self; in this attention there is no centre, the self. The urge to express oneself for identification is the outcome of confusion and the meaninglessness of existence. To seek a meaning is the beginning of fragmentation; thought can and does give a thousand meanings to life, each one inventing its own meanings which are merely opinions and convictions and there's no end to them. The very living is the whole meaning but when life is a conflict, s struggle, a battle-field of ambition, competition and the worship of success, the search for power and position, then life has no meaning. What is the need of expression? Does creation lie in the thing produced? The thing produced by hand or by the mind, however beautiful or utilitarian - is that what one is after? Does this self-abandoned passion need expression? When there is a need, a compulsion, is it the passion of creation? As long as there is vision between creator and the created, beauty, love, come to an end. You may produce a most excellent thing in color or in stone, but if your daily life contradicts that supreme excellence - the total abandonment of the self - that which you have produced is for admiration and vulgarity. The very living is the color, the beauty and its expression. One needs the other.
Thar.
This would be nice to see:
"my richness is life..."
Dig it!
Lotsa lovin!
...c
Saturday 25 February 2012
Evening!
was gonna post this yesterday but it was so late n I was so knackered I could hardly keep me peepers open. So here we go tday then. It's pretty late again but I ain't that tired yet. Well I haven't done much to be tired from.. Did some cleaning.. I was looking for somethin else n came across this:
I think that's just marvelous! I know it's not that time of year or anything I just had to put it up here. Beautiful!
so yes did some cleanig
n surfing the old net, took the the doggy for a walky. N back to the computer again.. So many things to dig. I found this here tune. ABsolutely brilliant! :
heard it a dozen times already.. at least!=)
N then all you Finnish people or people who understand Finnish, go check this dude out if you haven't already!
fantastic dude! I hope to get to meet him some day n dig him.
I've always really liked night time. The mystery n intrigue n peace n calm of it. Such a wonderful time.
(some pretty wild pics on that page by the way..)
aah so many marvelous pictures one could put up here..
So without further adoin here's Krishnamurti:
The sky and the earth met and there was vast space. In this measureless space the earth and all things had their existence, even this small boat carried along by the strong current. Around the bend of the river the horizons extended as far as the eye could see, measureless and infinite. Space became inexhaustible. There must be this space for beauty and compassion. Everything must have space, the living and the dead, the rock on the hill and the bird on the wing. When there is no space there is death. Sound needs space. The sound of a word needs space; the word makes its own space, rightly pronounced. The river and the faraway tree can only survive when they have space; without space all things wither. A painting must have space within it even though it's put in a frame; a statue can only exist in space; music creates the space it needs; the sound of a word not only makes space: it needs it to be heard. Thought can imagine the extension between two points, the distance and the measure; the interval between two thought is the space that thought makes. The continuos extension of time, movement and the interval between two movements of thought need space. Consciousness is within the movement of time and thought. Thought and time are measurable between tow appoints, between the centre and the periphery. Consciousness, wide or narrow, exists where there is a centre, the "me" and the "not me". All things need space. If rats are enclosed in a restricted space, they destroy each other; the small birds sitting on a telegraph wire, of an evening, have the needed space between each other. Human beings living in crowded cities are becoming violent. Where there is no space, outwardly or inwardly, every form of mischief and degeneration is inevitable. The conditioning of the mind through so-called education, religion, tradition, culture, gives little space to the flowering of the mind and heart. The belief, the experience according to that belief, the opinion, the concepts, the word is the "me", the ego, the centre which creates the limited space within whose border is consciousness. The "me" has its being and its activity within the small space it has created for itself. All its problems and sorrows, its hopes and despairs are within its own frontiers, and there there is no space. The known occupies all its consciousness. Consciousness is the known. Within this frontier there is no solution to all the problems human beings have put together. And yet they won't let go; they cling to the known or invent the unknown, hoping it will solve their problems. The space which the "me" has built for itself is its sorrow and its pain of pleasure. The gods don't give you space, for theirs is yours. This vast, measureless space lies outside the measure of thought, and thought is the known. Meditation is the emptying of consciousness of its content, the known, the "me".
and le second:
To be absolutely nothing is to be beyond measure. Be alone, without word or thought, but only watching and listening. The great silence showed the without it, existence loses its profound meaning and beauty. To be a light to oneself denies all experience. The one who is experiencing as the experiencer needs experience to exist and, however deep or superficial, the need for it becomes greater. Experience is knowledge, tradition; the experiencer divides himself to discern between the enjoyable and the painful, the comforting and the disturbing. The believer experiences according to his belief, according to his conditioning. These experiences are from the known, for recognition is essential, without it there's no experience. Every experience leaves a mark unless there's an ending to it as it arises. EVEry response to a challenge is an experience but when the response is from he known, challenge loses its newness and vitality; then there's conflict, disturbance and neurotic activity. The very nature of challenge is to question, to disturb, to awaken, to understand. Bu then that challenge is translated into the past, then the present is avoided. The conviction of experience is the negation of enquiry. Intelligence is the freedom to enquire, to investigate the "me" and the "not me", the outer and the inner. Belief, ideologies and authority prevent insight which comes only with freedom. The desire for experience of any kind must be superficial or sensory, comforting or pleasurable, for desire, however intense, is the forerunner of though hand thought is the outer.Thought will never find the new for it is old, it is never free. Freedom lies beyond thought. All the activity of thought is not love. To be a light to oneself is the light of all others. To be a light to oneself is for the mind to be free from challenge and response, for the mind then is totally awake, wholly attentive. This attention has no centre, the one who is attentive, and so no border. As long as there's a centre, the "me", there must be challenge and response, adequate or inadequate, pleasurable or sorrowful. The centre can never be a light to itself; its light is the artificial light of thought and it has many shadows. Compassion is not the shadow of thought but it is light, neither yours nor another's.
Take care!
Lotsa lovin!
...c
Thursday 23 February 2012
Hellou!
Lets kick it off with this:
one of my all time favorite songs!=) absolutely brilliant, sexy stuff. Oh n another one:
Fabulous!
This would be sweet wouldn't it?=)
aaah some day... I'm getting there tho=)
allrightythen, I think I'll just post old K n maybe watch Godard's Bande à Part..
by the by, as we're on cool movie posters here's a brilliant site:
the genius is just never ending! I'd love to have a whole building full of 'em! I think film posters tday are generally really boring n unimaginative. It'd be great to see more of those kinds of posters around town! All u poster people out there make some good stuff! Please.
So here goes:
In the walled garden the noise of the day began. The young baby was being washed; it was oiled with great care, every part of it; special oil for the head and another for he body; each had its own fragrance and both were slightly heated. The small child loved it; it was softly cooing to itself and its fat little body was bright with oil. Then it was cleaned with a special scented powder. The child never cried, there seemed to be so much love and care. It was dried and tenderly wrapped in a clean white cloth, fed and put to bed to fall asleep immediately. It would grow up to be educated, trained to work, accepting the traditions, the new or old beliefs, to have children, to bear sorrow and the laughter of pain. The mother came on day and asked, "what is love? Is it care, is it trust, is it responsibility, is it pleasure between man and woman? Is it the pain of attachment and loneliness?" You are bringing up your child with such care, with tireless energy, giving your life and time. You feel, perhaps unknowingly, responsible. You love it. But the narrowing effect of education will begin, will make it conform with punishment and reward to fit into the social structure. Education is the accepted means for the conditioning of the mind. What are we educated for - for endless work and to die? You have given tender care, affection, and does your responsibility cease when education begins? Is it love that will send him to war, to be killed after all that care and generosity? Your responsibility never ceases, which doesn't mean interference. Freedom is total responsibility, not only for your children but for all children on the earth. Is love attachment and its pain? Attachment breeds pain, jealousy, hatred. Attachment grows out of one's own shallowness, insufficiency, loneliness. Attachment gives a sense of belonging, identification with something, gives a sense of reality, of being. When that is threatened there is fear, anger, envy. Is all this love? Is pain and sorrow love? Is sensory pleasure love? Most fairly intelligent human beings know verbally all this and it is not too complicated. But they do not let all this go; they turn these facts into ideas and then struggle with the abstract concepts. They prefer to live with abstractions rather than with reality, with what is. In the denial of what love is not, love is. Don't be afraid of the word negation. Negate all that is not love, then what is, is compassion. What you are matters enormously for you are the world and the world is you. This is compassion.
be good t one another!
Lotsa love!
...c
Wednesday 22 February 2012
hello thar my fine, fellow beings!
(don't know where that came from..=) )
right, I'm only gonna post Krishnamurti tday cos I want to go t bed to read Anthony de Mello's Awareness.
A fantastic brilliant book which I think everyone should read!
So here goes ol Jiddu:
It is the oldest living thing on the earth. It is gigantic in proportion,, in its height and vast trunk. Among other redwood trees, which were also very old, this one was towering over them all; other trees had been touched by fire but this one had no marks on it. It had lived through all the ugly things of history, through all the wars of the world, through all the mischief and sorrow of man, through fire and lightning, through all the storms of time, untouched, majestic and utterly alone, with immense dignity. There had been fires but the bark of these redwood trees were able to resist them and survive. The noisy tourists had not come yet and you could be alone with this great silent one; it soared up to the heavens as you sat under it, vast and timeless. Its very years gave it the dignity of silence and the aloofness of great age. It was as silent as your mind was, as still as your heart, and living without the burden of time. You were aware of compassion that time had never touched and of innocency that had never known hurt or sorrow. You sat there and time passed you by and it would never come back. There was immortality, for death had never been. Nothing existed except that immense tree, the clouds and the earth. You went to that tree and sat down with it ad every day for many days it was a benediction of which you were only aware when you wandered away. You could never come back to it asking for more; there was never the more, the more was in the valley far below. Because it was not a man-made shrine, there was unfathomable sacredness which would never again leave you, for it was not yours. Sensuality in the world of pleasure has become very important. TAste dictates and soon the habit of pleasure takes hold; though it may harm the whole organism, pleasure dominates. Pleasure of the senses, of cunning and subtle thought, of words and of the images of mind and hand is the culture of education, the pleasure of violence and the pleasure of sex. Man is moulded to the shape of pleasure, and all existence, religious or otherwise, is the pursuit of it. The wild exaggerations of pleasure are the outcome of moral and intellectual conformity. When the mind is not free and aware, then sensuality becomes a factor of corruption which is what is going on in the modern world. Pleasure of money and sex dominate. When man has become a second-hand human being, the expression of sensuality is his freedom. Then love is pleasure and desire. Organised entertainment, religious or commercial, makes for social and personal immorality; you cease to be responsible. Responding wholly to any challenge is to be responsible, totally committed. This cannot be when the very essence of thought is fragmentary and the pursuit of pleasure, in all its obvious and subtle forms, is the principal movement of existence. Pleasure is not joy; joy and pleasure are entirely different things; the one is uninvited and the other cultivated, nurtured; the one comes when the "me" is not and the other is time-binding; where the one is the other is not. Pleasure, fear and violence run together; they are inseparable companions. Learning from observation is action, the doing is the seeing. The giant sequoias were motionless. They will go on beyond time. Only man dies and the sorrow of it.
(see more pics a few posts ago.. marvelous things!)
That's it. Thank you. gnite. be well. lotta login!
...c
Tuesday 21 February 2012
Good eve, good people!
(just add lots n lots of snow n a little doggy..)
Day one of loneliness done.. No I'm being too dramatic, it's all good. Of course I miss my honey n in many ways it is a case of not fully appreciating it (her..) while she was here (it's funny how people do that isn't it? You don't appreciate something until you've lost it. That's AWfully silly wouldn't you agree (bit of a posh brrritish accent there..=)) why not enjoy n be happy & enthusiastic while you do have it? We are a weird bunch..) but it's good to have a break from one another. I think it'd do a lot of couples a lot of good. To get a bit of a breather, gather your thoughts. And talking to each other I think would do a lot of good for many couples.. Cos so many times we just keep stuff all clenched up & in so many cases we're really just angry n upset at ourselves. So get away from each other and talk on the phone!=) No, you know what I mean (right..?)
So yeah I finished Howl's Moving Castle n it was indeed brilliant. I'm getting really into the whole anime thing!
Here's one I'd like to see:
well it's quite late again n I sort of have so many things to say & so many ways to go that I'll just post Krishnamurti n that's that=)
The wood was asleep; the path through it was dark and ending. The was not a thing stirring; the long twilight was just disappearing and the silence of the night was covering the earth. The small gurgling stream, so insistent during the day, was conceding to the quietness of the coming night. Through the small opening among the leaves were the stars, brilliant and very close. Darkness of the night is as necessary as the light of day. The welcoming trees were withdrawn into themselves and distant; they were all around but they were aloof and unapproachable; they were asleep, not to be disturbed. In this quiet darkness, there was growth and flowering, gathering strength to meet the vibrant day; night and day were essential; both gave life, energy, to all living things. Only man dissipates it. Sleep is very important, a sleep without too many dreams, without tossing about too much. In sleep many things happen bot in the physical organism and in the brain (the mind is the brain); they are one, a unitary movement. To this whole structure sleep is absolutely essential. In sleep order, adjustment and deeper perceptions take place; the quieter the brain the deeper the insight. The brain needs security and order to function harmoniously, without any friction. Night provides it and during quiet sleep there are movements, states, which thought can never reach. Dreams are disturbance; they distort total perception. In sleep the mind rejuvenates itself. But you might say dreams are necessary; if one doesn't dream one might go mad; they are helpful, revealing. There are superficial dreams, without much meaning; there are dreams that are significant and there is also a dreamless state. Dreams are the expression in different forms and symbols of our daily life. If there is no harmony, nor order in our daily life of relationship, then dreams are a continuance of that disorder. The brain during sleep tries to bring about order out of this confusing contradiction. In this constant struggle between order and disorder the brain is worn out. But it must have security and order to function at all, and so beliefs, ideologies and other neurotic concepts become necessary. Turning night into day is one of those neurotic habits; the inanities that go on in the modern world after nightfall are an escape from the daytime of routine and boredom. The total awareness of disorder in relationship both private and public, personal and distant, an awareness of what is without any choice during conscious hours of the day, brings order out of disorder. Then the brain has no need to seek order during sleep. Then dreams are only superficial, without meaning. Order in the whole of consciousness, not merely at the conscious level, takes place when division between the observer and the observed ceases completely. What is, is transcended when the observer who is the past, who is time, comes to an end. The active present, the what is, is not in the bondage of time a the observer is. Only when the mind - the brain and the organism - during sleep has this total order, is there an awareness of that wordless state, that timeless movement. This is not some fanciful dream, an abstraction of escape. It is the very summation of meditation. That is, the brain is active, waking or sleeping, but the constant conflict between order and disorder wears down the brain. Order is the highest form of virtue, sensitivity, intelligence. When there is this great beauty of order, harmony, the brain is not endlessly active; certain parts of it have to carry the burden of memory but this is a very small part; the rest of the brain is free from the noise of experience. That freedom is the order, the harmony, of silence. This freedom and the noise of memory move together; intelligence is the action of this movement. Meditation is freedom from the known and yet operating in the field of the known. There is no "me" as the operator. In sleep or awake this meditation goes on. The path came slowly out of the woods and from horizon to horizon the sky was filled with stars. in the fields not a thing moved.
Wow, now I'ma go get me some of that important sleep.
check this out! Stunning!
http://vimeo.com/24149087
Now I really have t go, got a bit caught up on those time lapse clips.. mad stuff.
(just add lots n lots of snow n a little doggy.. n maybe a little more leg space..)
Be well, talk, sort your shit out!
lotsa lovin!
...c
Monday 20 February 2012
Howdy folks!
Well, I was gonna post most of this yesterday but my brand new, week old computer was freakin out on me. Just froze 3 or 4 times! So in desperation n big gloom I decided to leave it till tomorrow (today..) n hope it won't be getting up to the same mischief..
So here goes..
First of all, Ems left for far away paradise tday so it's a bit of a droopy faced day..
(man! check out those cats in the band!=) How bloody cool are those dudes eh?! Brilliant=) that kind of took the droop off my face for a bit..) that's pretty much how it is when she's gone (n always gone too long..)
so this is where yesterday's post began..
Listenin to this in the background so I'll start with that:
(actual song starts at about 0.56...)
Brilliant stuff!=) back in good ol' 87=)
On to other stuff.. Earlier tday I was pondering what it would be like if nature ( n us human beasts as part of that nature..) were in complete balance & order? Imagine that! Everything supporting each other and working in total co-operation. The way it is supposed to..
N you think about dudes like these & what they understood:
And at times I feel like fleeing to a place like this:
Digging them happy mad monks up in the mountains, learning some gung fu, meditating, long walks in the forests n mountains n valleys..
(bat monks..=) )
and don't get me wrong! I'm in a pretty good mood n all! Not in one of those gloomy Eeyore moods. I love the world n I dig maybe even too many things.. N at times I struggle with so much stuff, like leading a healthy, all good n pure life, meditating n doin yoga n studying all things natural and healthy and being great nature knower n healer n crazy wizard n then on the other hand, just letting go n do all the sort of stuff that I used to, sex n drugs n rock n roll type things, absolutely living life to the fullest, on the road, all guns blazing, stayin up all night n talking n smoking n dreaming n coming up with mad ideas n hangin out with friends n doin all sorts, goin wherever the wind blows you.. And of course I think why couldn't I lead a perfectly healthy life n still live life to the fullest, or even more fullest in fact cos you wouldn't spend so much time being hungover n feeling like shit.. So I'm trying t find my way in all this.. N sometimes I wonder am I where I'm supposed to be? Am I leading the life that I should? But then I think that there's no point in any of that "cool" n unhealthy stuff. N how could I ever go back to that life when I knew how bad all that stuff really is.. I'll just have to be a light onto myself n walk that road tho it is a bit harder n more trying..
So bit of a babbling session there for ya..
Let's give "the floor" t ol Krishnamurti:
Has consciousness any depth or only a surface fluttering? Thought can imagine its depth, can assert that it has depth or only consider the surface ripples. Has thought itself any depth at all? Consciousness is made up of its content; its content is its entire frontier. Thought is the activity of the outer and in certain languages thought means the outside. The importance that is given to the hidden layers of consciousness is still on the surface, without any depths. Thought can give itself a centre, as the ego, the "me", and that centre has no depth at all; words, however cunningly and subtly put together, are not profound. The "me" is a fabrication of thought in word and in identification; the "me", seeking depth in action, in existence, has no meaning at all; all its attempts to establish depth in relationship end in the multiplications of its own images whose shadows it considered are deep. The activities of thought have no depth; its pleasures, its fears, its sorrows are on the surface. The very word surface indicates that there is something below, a great volume of water or very shallow. A shallow or deep mind are the words of thought and thought in itself is superficial. The volume behind thought is experience, knowledge, memory, things that are gone only to be recalled, to be or not to be acted upon. Is there depth to life, to existence at all? Is all relationship shallow? Can thought ever discover it? Thought is the only instrument man has cultivated and sharpened, and when that's denied as a means to the understanding of depth in life, then the mind seeks other means. To lead a shallow life soon becomes wearying, boring, meaningless and from this arises the constant pursuit of pleasure, fears, conflict and violence. To see the fragments that thought has brought about and their activity, as a whole, is the ending of thought. Perception of the whole is only possible when the observer, who is one of the fragments of thought, is not active. Then action is relationship and never leads to conflict and sorrow. Only silence has depth, as love. Silence is not the movement of thought nor is love. Then only the words, deep and shallow, lose their meaning. There is no measurement to love nor to silence. What's measurable is thought and time; thought is time. Measure is necessary but when thought carries it into action and relationship, then mischief and disorder begin. Order is not measurable, only disorder is.
dos:
Romanticism and sentimentality were safely locked up in the cities, and here deep in the country, with trees, meadows and streams, there was beauty and delight. There's a road that goes through the woods, and dappled shadows and every leaf holds that beauty, every dying leaf and blade of grass. Beauty is not a word, an emotional response; it is not soft, to be twisted and moulded by thought. When beauty is there, every movement and action in every form of relationship is whole, sane and holy. When that beauty, love, doesn't exist, the world goes mad. On the small screen the preacher, with carefully cultivated gesture and word, was saying that he knew his saviour, the only saviour, was living; if he was not living, there would be no hope for the world. The aggressive thrust of his arm drove away any doubt, any enquiry, for he knew and you must stand up for what he knew, for his knowledge is your knowledge, your conviction. The calculated movement of his arms and the driven word were substance and encouragement to his audience, which was there with its mouth open, both young and old, spellbound and worshipping the image of their mind. A war had just begun and neither the preacher nor his large audience cared, for wars must go on and besides it is part of our culture. On that screen, a little later, there was shown what the scientists were doing, their marvelous inventions, their extraordinary spas control, the world of tomorrow, the new complex machines; the explanations of how cells are formed, the experiments that are being made on animals, on worms and flies. The study of the behavior of animals was carefully and amusingly explained. With this study the professors could better understand human behavior. The remains of an ancient culture were explained; the excavations, the vases, the carefully preserved mosaics and the crumbling walls; the wonderful world of the past, its temples, its glories. Many, many volumes have been written about the riches, the paintings, the cruelties and the greatness of the past, their kings and their slaves. A little later there was shown the actual war that was raging in the desert and among the green hills, the enormous tanks and the low-flying jets., the noise and the calculated slaughter; and the politicians talking about peace but encouraging war in every land. The crying women were shown and the desperately wounded, the children waving flags and the priests intoning blessings. The tears of mankind have not washed away man's desire to kill. No religion has stopped war; all of them, on the contrary, have encouraged it, blessed the weapons of war; they have divided the people. Governments are isolated and cherish their insularity. The scientists are supported by governments. The preacher is lost in his words and images. You will cry, but educate your children to kill and be killed. You accept it as the way of life; your commitment is to your own security; it is your god and your sorrow. You care for your children so carefully, so generously, but then you are so enthusiastically willing them to be killed. They showed on the screen baby seals, with enormous eyes, being killed. The function of culture is to transform man totally.
tres:
There is in Sanskrit a long prayer to peace. It was written many, many centuries ago by someone to whom peace was an absolute necessity, and perhaps his daily life had its roots in that. It was written before the creeping poison of nationalism, the immortality of the power of money and the insistence on worldliness that industrialism has brought about. The prayer is to enduring peace: May there be peace among the gods, in heaven and among the stars; may there be peace on earth, among men and four-footed animals; may we not hurt each other; may we be generous to each other; may we have that intelligence with will guide our life and action; may there be peace in our prayer, on our lips and in our hearts. There is no mention of individuality in this peace; that came much later. There is only ourselves - our peace, our intelligence, our knowledge, our enlightenment. The sound of Sanskrit chants seems to have a strange effect. In a temple, about fifty priests were chanting in Sanskrit and the very walls seemed to be vibrating. Peace is not an interval between the ending and beginning of conflict, of pain and of sorrow. No government can bring peace; its peace is of corrupt hand decay; the orderly rule of a people breeds degeneration for it is not concerned with all the people of the earth. Tyrannies can never hold peace for they destroy freedom: peace and freedom go together. To kill another for pace is the idiocy of ideologies. You cannot buy peace; it is not the invention of the intellect; it is not to be purchased through prayer, though bargaining. It is not in any holy building, in any book, in any person. No one can lead you to it, no guru, no priest, no symbol. In meditation it is. Meditation itself is the movement of peace. It is not an end to be found; it is not put together by thought or word. The action of meditation is intelligence. Mediation is none of those things as you have been taught or experienced. The putting away of what you have learnt or experienced is meditation. The freedom of the experiencer is meditation. When there is no peace in relationship, there is no peace in meditation; it is an escape into illusion and fanciful dreams. It cannot be demonstrated or described. You are no judge of peace. You will be aware of it, if it is there, through the activities of your daily life, the order, the virus of your life.
There you go, a good bit of Krishnamurti! =)
It's pretty late n I'd quite like to finish Howl's Moving Castle (it's brilliant!)
