To those who are paid to read this, I honestly hope you find what you are looking for; indeed, that you know what you are looking for.

I make no claims; I have no supernatural power or influence.  I have no means — given our current socio-economic paradigm — of bringing that goal to fruition other than this website and e-mail.  But I am human and rich in greater ways than gold.  I spend a minimum of roughly 18 hours each day working on my laptop, my door to the world and my sole possession.  That and my connection to the internet are the present extent of my current physical life. This situation suits me at the moment, but I would prefer not to be alone if I can avoid it for my final years.

I would be humbled to offer assistance of spiritual nature were I particularly gifted, but I possess only attuned communication instinct — that has lately been particularly keen and the data copious.  I am able to learn extraordinary things each day about the nature of God, and I treasure these growth experiences more than I have ever treasured anything.  My human experience has recently taken on qualities and dimensions that I never imagined it would or could.  I have nothing — by the American ideal of success which I pegged as preposterous at an early age, so largely removed myself from the pool before I got in too deep and while I still had firm footing.

Yet, my ample momentum took me further still, deep into two hearts of that darkness.  In the Florida Keys, my friendship with Curt Gowdy and fishing skills that made him envious got me close enough to George H. W. Bush while he was President to shake his hand several times and get phone calls from the White House.  But never as I shook his hand could I bring myself to look into his eyes!  I felt repulsion from him deeper than physical.  Bizarre, I thought.  I was terrified of the evil I knew I’d see.

Years previously, I spent an entire July Friday in 1985 on a private escorted tour of the Rockefeller estate at Pocantico Hills, overlooking the Hudson River in upstate Sleepy Hollow, New York, and had a similar experience with “Mr. David.”  It was a memorable tour.  One of the walk-in fireplaces in one of the Olympic-sized pools in his “Playhouse” was larger than my Manhattan apartment at the time.  Wikipedia describes the Playhouse thusly: 

A rambling French Norman two-story structure completed by Junior in 1927, this structure is also three times the size of the Kykuit mansion. Standing alongside the nine-hole, reversible golf course, an outdoor swimming pool and two tennis courts, it contains an indoor swimming pool and tennis court, fully equipped basketball gym, squash court, billiard room and full-size bowling alley. It also has dining and living rooms, and a huge reception room resembling an English baronial hall.

It contains a greater variety of facilities than listed and is in two stories of roughly 24-feet each.

On the long spiral drive through the golf course alive with busy gardeners, up the hill to Kykuit mansion, that culminated in a vulgar wrought iron and gilded entryway clearly modeled on — and intended to rival in grandeur — the Gates of Heaven, I understood better than most how a Rockefeller should believe he was a god – of some kind.  My revelation came observing, on the one hand, immensity of wealth and its inherent possibilities for good…  on the other, the results of its use; the present state of the world.

I understand that my cash quandary is as temporary as time.  I despise money matters and have no apparatus yet in place on this site to deal with them.  The matter is under consideration, where it will most likely remain.  (Please excuse this sensory assault while I adjust for sudden crass mortal instincts.)

Rockefeller/Bush/Beckett Connection to mccartichoke  (There is one, that I believe has to do with the experience of penultimate moral extremes.  …More to come as mysteries unravel.)


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