Tag Archives: Hunter S. Thompson


“Education is teaching our children to desire the right things.”


“Education is the kindling of a flame, not the filling of a vessel.”


“Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all.”


“Read at every wait; read at all hours; read within leisure; read in times of labor; read as one goes in; read as one goest out. The task of the educated mind is simply put: read to lead.”

Marcus Tullius Cicero

“He who opens a school door, closes a prison.”

Victor Hugo

“Education consists mainly of what we have unlearned.”

Mark Twain

“It’s an universal law– intolerance is the first sign of an inadequate education. An ill-educated person behaves with arrogant impatience, whereas truly profound education breeds humility.”

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

“The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education.”

Albert Einstein

“Education is a system of imposed ignorance.”

Noam Chomsky

“There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call … The Twilight Zone.”

This piece is a continuation from…








Mid Sixteenth Century,

“the process of receiving or giving systematic instruction, especially at a school or university.”

Call me Gonzo,



Conspiracy theorist,

Call me what you like,

But there is,

If you choose to see it,

A mountain of evidence that proves,

As Marx stated;

“The ideas of the ruling class are in every epoch the ruling ideas, i.e. the class which is the ruling material force of society, is at the same time its ruling intellectual force. The class which has the means of material production at its disposal, has control at the same time over the means of mental production, so that thereby, generally speaking, the ideas of those who lack the means of mental production are subject to it. The ruling ideas are nothing more than the ideal expression of the dominant material relationships, the dominant material relationships grasped as ideas.”

It is plain to see,

That once our masters,

OUR masters,

Had control over global finance,

Thus the desecration of any earlier creation,

The sovereign nation,

Again a replacement of an earlier paradigm,

The religious one,

That they had control over the physical means,

Of ALL production,

Yet, a substantial piece of the puzzle was missing,

That would further enshrine their wealth,

Requiring a fundamental reshaping,

Of the way that we are bread,

To think, or lack thereof,

More to obey,


To infiltrate, destroy, redesign and reshape,

The spirit, principles and delivery of education.

It is perhaps,

The highest duty,

Of all humans to be informed,

And giving credit where it is due,

My parents imbued me with a delicate mind,

Instructing it to be filled,

At a very young age,

With a voracious appetite for knowledge,

Page after page,

Book after book,

Day after day,

Year after year,

My best friends were and still are the worn pages,

Of books many would not even know,

Let alone read,

The subtle time worn stain,

The faint aroma of those perplexed, uplifted,

Embroiled and entertained before me,

Names like Plato and Aristotle,

Interspersed with Machiavelli and Hegel,

Characters like Sherlock and Dorian,

Mingling with Santiago and Raoul Duke,

Each presenting the opportunity,

For my mind,

Actively to expand horizons,

In search of ever greater new ones,

Not just for myself,

But for all.

A real education,

Not promised me,

Nor any of us,

But enforced, by my parents,

That lit the flame,

Fanned it,

And watched me roar.


As I revisit the past,

With a mind matured and also ravaged by time,


As self evident now,

I realize beyond a shadow of a doubt,

And certainly outside the reach of some stuck in Plato’s Cave,

That the machinations of true power,

Have conspired to control the spiritual and mental means of production,

Creating chainless minions,

Unaware slaves,

Through magnificent efforts reaching back,

At least a century or more,

When those same powerful creatures,

In elegant rooms,

In order to perpetuate and consolidate their power,

Forced upon the unaware, or worse uncaring,

A purpose built system to invisibly dominate minds,

From the earliest ages,

Inside the institutions known as elementary and secondary schools,

A system of vile and vicious propaganda,

Established to ensure that the means of production,


Not only did not question, would not question,

BUT, could not question,

As the erosion of critical thought ensured,

That you would; “look, listen, kneel, pray,”

At the alter (spelling intended) of consumption,

While mindlessly promoting their wealth,

Celebrating it,

Coveting it,

As moment by moment you gave way,

To a well oiled plan.

And, as the Bard would say,

Herein lay the rub;




Greek and Late Latin,




Early Seventeenth Century,

“the desire to promote the welfare of others, expressed especially by the generous donation of money to good causes.”

A beautiful and noble goal that,

To promote welfare,

Through generous donations,


In purpose and practice,

The age old idea of charity,


Like all institutions,

Been corrupted,

To engage in the spread of ideas and practices,

Contrary to the public good,

And instead,

As facts in evidence prove,

To deepen the stranglehold,

Of a very select few.

Until recently,

The Vatican,

The Holy See,

That great institution, (tongue in cheek)

The Roman Catholic Church,

Had a prominent and indeed almost monopolistic control,

On systems of education throughout the world, let alone every Sunday,

Only partially dismantled after world war two,

And like those who follow herein,

Pays no tax maintaining,

That their mission is;

“to promote the teachings of Christ.”


Pray tell,

The Crusades,
Eleventh to Thirteenth Century

The Wars of Religion,

Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries,

Second Sudanese Civil War,

1983 – 2005,

The daily ongoing in all but name forced proselytization,

Of various people the world over,

Is this what the man or myth would answer to the question,

What would Jesus do?

But to name a few more;

Rockefeller Foundation (Standard Oil)

“Promoting the well-being of humanity around the world.”

Ford Foundation (Ford Motor Co.)
To receive and administer funds for scientific, educational and charitable purposes all for the public welfare.”

John A. Hartford Foundation (Great Atlantic and Pacific Tea)

“It is necessary to carve from the whole vast spectrum of human needs one small band that the heart and mind together tell you is the area in which you can make your best contribution.”

W.K. Kellogg Foundation (Kellogg Cereals)

“We believe that one measure of a society is the importance it places on the optimal development of all of its children. We envision a future and a society where every child thrives, and we invest in areas to advance that vision.”

Carnegie Corporation (Carnegie Steel)

“ to promote the advancement and diffusion of knowledge and understanding.”

Alfred P. Sloan Foundation (General Motors)

“believes that a carefully reasoned and systematic understanding of the forces of nature and society, when applied inventively and wisely, can lead to a better world for all.”

Moody Foundation (W. L. Moody’s oil, realty, newspapers, and bank holdings)

“to benefit in perpetuity present and future generations of Texans.”

Lilly Endowment (Eli Lilly Pharmaceuticals)

“exists to support the causes of religion, education and community development. The Endowment affords special emphasis to projects that benefit young people and promote leadership education and financial self-sufficiency in the nonprofit, charitable sector.”

Howard Hughes Medical Institute

“advance biomedical research and science education for the benefit of humanity.”

Pew Memorial Trust (Sun Oil Co. or Sunoco)

“is driven by the power of knowledge to solve today’s most challenging problems. Pew applies a rigorous, analytical approach to improve public policy, inform the public and invigorate civic life.”

Endowments aside,

These very few ‘tax exempt foundations,’

Not to mention our Universities,

MANY more hidden behind page after page of illusion,

With noble goals and purported idealistic aims,

Served two much more important aims,


To protect and indeed advance the fortunes of a very select few,

And if not more importantly, as money is just a fiction,

To seek, design, implement and control the minds,

From the earliest ages possible,

Of the means of production,


Don’t believe me;

Think of the McDonald’s Happy Meal,

The principle is the same.

As earlier demonstrated,
Words have meaning,

Some understood by all,

Others coded instructions,

Secret directions,

And ominous predictions.

In a delicate move of evil genius,

These same men,

Robber Barons to their core,


That the general public,

Already devoid of will,

And increasingly intellect and the ability to question,

Opened the doors of their secret halls,

Presenting to Carol Quigley,

The keys to the proverbial kingdom,

Minutes of the Tax Exempt Foundations,

An understanding which would become the basis for Tragedy and Hope,

A direct, substantiated and nefarious cabal,

Giving direction and instruction where necessary,

Worse where required,

As in the masterfully created wars,

Knew that the minds were needed, as early as possible;

Welcome the International Bureau of Education,

“Its aims were to centralize documentation related to public and private education, to take an interest in scientific research in the educational field, and to serve as a coordinating centre for institutions and societies concerned with education.”

A private foundation,

At the end of World War Two,

Integrated into the International system,

Absorbed by the United Nations,

Through UNESCO.

Such a tangled web,

Impossible here to fully weave,

Foundation after foundation,

Private family and endowment trusts,

All working toward,

A series of control, social,

Engineered to promote and protect,

The endgame of the perversely wealthy elite,

This included,

Though you may be aghast,

Nazi eugenic experimentation,

That may enable the breeding of ‘superior men,’

Psychiatric experiments,

Guarded by Rockefeller (Standard Oil) paid goons,

We speak off the destruction of the Jews ill fated,

Yet never of the cause of their demise.

Further research in Canada, McGill University,

Vile experiments with Dr. Ewen Cameron,

Those that first started me down this rabbit hole,

Of researching and attempting to understand,

Exactly how the machinations of collective suppression work,

At seventeen I began to question,

Absolutely everything I had been taught,

In school, in books, from history,

Realizing that truly one of the spoils of war,

Was the ability to control the future,

By controlling the past,

Orwell was and IS right.

I have written,

Time and again,

Of the wholesale destruction of thought,

The abject perversion of the human condition,

By those who benefit from it’s slaughter,

For years,

I have waged war,

With myself, my beliefs, the things I thought I knew,

And the world into which I was born.

Am I still Gonzo,



Conspiracy theorist?

Or the pebble at the precipice of the water,

Wishing nothing more than to create,

A perpetual tide of concentric circles?


Pray tell,

Do we refuse to see,

Or more apropos,


Refuse to see,

That there is a definite link,

Between the control of debt,

The duplicitous practices of the Internationalists,

That have robbed you of friend and supposed foe,

Hegel to the death;

The fall of sovereign states,

The decrease in critical thinking,

The rise in consumption,

The massive dumbing down of one and all,

And then further refuse to question,

Who does this all benefit –

Follow the money!

It is not the 1%,

It is the 0.0000074%,

As Fitzgerald,

One of my daily delusions maintains;

“The rich are different from you and me.”

And they are,

Even though you refuse to see,

For to them,

You are not even a pawn,

But a single atom, of a molecule,

Of a pawn,

And your resistance,

Despite their attempts to convince you otherwise is not futile,

The truth is out there,

Your liberation is within your grasp,

Will you take it,

I call not for a revolution with blood in the streets,

I call for an awakening,

Knowing that our TRUE power,

Is not within their institutions,

Of mind control and social engineering,

IQ and Standardized test,

But in our hearts and in our minds.

Will you open your hearts and minds,

Awaken to the realities around us,

Or march, slowly,

One day at a time,

Born for the dying?

“The truth is stranger than fiction.”
Hunter S. Thompson


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Barrels, Bells and Fish

wyeth n c Dark Harbor Fisherman

I don’t believe in God,

Though I have studied the monotheists contradictions,

The vindictive omnipotent man in the sky,

Imaginary friend,

Who allows the ravishing of his blessed creations,

With the promise of a paradise upon death,

Causing me to wonder why not now;

And while I am as yet not smote,

I recall,

One of Jesus disciples saying something like;

“Give a man a fish he eats for the day,

Teach a man to fish and he will eat forever.”

But not us fools,

We are depleting our stocks,

As our systems,


Are in decline!

The dark sky,

A transformative canvas,

Black slate to record the singularity events,

Strings attached, everything,


We’re barely yet to understand,

The theory of our own magnificence instead,

Praised flagellating accolades, unearned,

Sycophantic dilettantes,

Living daily without consideration or contemplation,

Compassion or reason,

Yet, in front of our very eyes,

The bounty,


In a barrel,

We are.

Beyond the surface, horizons seen,


To the reality painted before our eyes,

Ones and zeroes,



Blessed tree, trees, nature, Druid Gods,

Real and not supposed,

Supposed as not real,

From which our existence is unabated,

As we slaughter you whole, one by one,

Fish in a barrel,

For another floating city,

Or dastardly extinction level event machine.

Choking as you do on our avarice,

Only to breath back fresh insinuations, disregarding our malice,

While like gluttons,

Sucking back the seven deadly sins,

Bent on allowing us to thrive and continue to survive,

Despite the persistence of our choosing,

At your expense,

To ignore the actuality of space and time,

The phenomenon of our survival,

Will short be lived,

Regardless of reverence of it,

Dutifully recorded;


Now eerie reflections,

Haunting spectacle of troubling beauty,

Ominous, foreboding and yet curiously inviting,

As three dimensions squeezed into two,

Maroon sun spot captured in time,

An ironic reality as from almost one hundred million miles ,

You travel to reinforce our intimidation of beings,

Great and small,

Feasting upon our ancestors,

Like the ugly fools we are,

Landing in mere minutes upon this empty field,

The mossy green skin of Gaia,

Longing for a pick up game of soccer,

Or children running at ease,

Unaware of the realities approaching them,

Approaching us,

Like a freight train on a crash course,

With one on the same track,

Vivid surreal impressions,

Broad strokes,

Broad strokes,

Bizarre versions repeated,

Dangling like fish on a hook, or a whale a harpoon,


A veritable palate of universal conversation,

Like a forced upon blind date by your best friend,


In pigments, shades, hues and tones,

Millions of them,

So delicate only our mind can make sense of them,

Yet at the same time,

The perpetual Déjà vu,

That keeps us in suspense,

Or so we delude ourselves into believing.

Brought to the forefront of consciousness, astute,

Though the machinations of our thought process are foreign,

Our misguided and ill advised machinations,

At the expense of others,

Not realizing that in the end,

It all ends the same,

Just as the sun, the moon and the stars,

Our ignorance,

Subtle influence of the eye contained,

In colours that drip like honeycomb,

Painting both angels and demons,

Gods and Devils,

In a space contained only in the brain, rightly so grey.

A puny yet mighty instrument,

Capable of so much more,

This wonderful computer,

Three pounds, perhaps a little more,

The central question, importance and measure of our lives,

Delicate haunting arms outstretched,

Branches like an awaiting mother,

Daughter unseen for a semester abroad,

You beg to be held, touched, loved, understood,

As the tree of life is currently of death,


Magnified in astonishing events,

As water, the source and course of our existence,

Holds captive,

In symbolic prison and prisms,

The intention of man,

Concentric circles casting crushing cynicisms,

Cascading wonder at the idiocy of man,

This blessed gift, Gaia,


While feeding men for a day,

Save the multiple solitudes in this moment,

For when looking and seeing,

That laws of nature reveal,

The answer to all our questions,

In an instant,


And without,


“Believe in God, but row away from the rocks!”
Hunter S. Thompson said that…

I say believe nothing,

That may learn everything,

Like how to fish!




Written from Photo prompt at my good writing companions over at http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/2014/08/mag-235.html  



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Sink or Swim?

mag 233

“Pray to God, but row away from the rocks.”
Hunter S. Thompson based on Russian Proverb

The tyranny of silence is overwhelming,

Calculated deceit for mass consumption,

Consuming souls thus creating tin men,

Travelling on iron horses, whether plane, train, automobile or boat;

Advertisers queuing up to steal the innocence of youth,

Adolescence robbed as our best and brightest,

Become dim witted without consent by a constant barrage,

Children exposed to more than 40,000 commercials a year,

Not to mention product placement and subliminal messaging,


Thus, manufacturing dutiful consumers for the rest of their days.

Talking heads delivering not news,

Rather obfustication,


Filling time between commercials,

Sell, sell, and sell,

This silence, deafening,

Ringing in my ears and searing my eyes,

As I watch the disambiguation of souls the world over,

Persecution, subjugation and dehumanizing effects,

Nike, McDonald’s, Chevy and Cadbury,

Concocting and reshaping the old as new,

Manufactured scarcity and obsolescence,


There is enough on this great Spaceship Earth,

However, not so long as growth and profit are the aim.

This silence reaches into my soul as I am,

Wrenches it, attacks and dismays it,

As I can not dismiss, as Whitman suggests,

What is vile to my soul.

Contacted daily,

Voices in my head,

Converting distant thoughts into fingers that Tango,

Flicker and flit,


Across the keyboard,

Hoping that I may alight in another, others,

The will to journey on in the face of brutal adversity,

And an overt crookedness dressed in Sunday whites,

Great White Sharks in Sheep’s clothing,

Devouring us all,


Discovering the strength in my own atmospheres to repudiate such guile,

Positively enchanted by the desire to live,

The will to thrive,

The power to create my own meaning,

By communing through poetry and prose,

With all who care to search for their own enlightenment,

For it must be yours,

Drawn to the fire that intensely burns deep within retinas,


As the objects of my daily affirmation,

Just as powerful and real as Cogito Ergo Sum,

Scribo Ergo Sum,

At least for me,

At least for now,

While on this earthly plain of land and sea.

I wander through your conscious and subconscious,

With delicious intent,

Feeling the inherent call of the Ether,

Ripened anxiety exposing the steadfast requirements,

To move toward the light,

Guided by a glistening shadow on the sea,

To accept life as both challenge and present,

Obstacle and opportunity,

Revealed quotidian as the choices we make,

Expose when all is said and done,

The very cornerstones that define us,

Not labels,


Are the tomes we devour as lifeblood and return to the universe.

In these poems and prose we present,

For me from the Ether, The Muses and The Sirens,

For you, I cannot say,

For each of us record who and what we are in apt words,

For posterity,

Not our own, but instead Non Omnis Moriar,

We alone,

Are the authoritative creators of dictionaries and thesaurus’,


Profound wanderers,

Not lost,

Just curious and seeking,


Declaring triumphantly,

That we as emerging voices,

United in poetry and prose,

Good, bad though never indifferent,

Will never stand idly by,

As the wicked wage battle for the hearts and minds,

Of those we seek to enchant with these knowledgeable lyrics.

Words of life,

Words of sweet surrender,

Of painful exuberance,

Of intentional questions that demand answers we may never find,

We are at the vanguard of a paradigm shift that commands,

We write,

Careful to educate those souls,

Those suffer the indignity of disambiguation,

So they may reclaim, rightfully,

Their lives to live fullest and free,

As thinkers,

You determine your own design,

I as Warrior Poet,

Chosen light,

Rowing away from the rocks in the absence of God,

Standing at the ready,

To wage war with the wicked,

Will you stand with me?


Or Swim?


Written from Photo Prompt for www.magpietales.blogspot.com


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Inside that giddy little smile,

Rests a potential,

A word I have run from since my birth,


A reality that scares me,

Like a roman truffle,

A delicacy that requires time, attention and care,

An enigma,

Inside a puzzle,

In a labyrinth,

Inside an Escher painting,

Rubbed by Dali,

Splayed by Pollock,

I and I and I cubed,

By Picasso,

Shot by Ernest,

Black Dogs

And your smile,

Mesmerized by a radiating warmth,

That transcends the very knowledge of life,

Nosce Te Ipsum,

As I expose,

For all to see,

The ugly parts of me,

Hidden in shadows for too long,

I will no longer remain in Plato’s Cave,

Rivaled instead, by your spirit,

That has reached deep with in,


That I can dismiss those parts of me,

That I no longer need,



No more?

Not when I interlace my soul with yours,


When our lips fire neurons at the speed of life,

Feasting as I do,

On the meal that is you,

An indescribable yesterday,

A requited today,

And an imagined tomorrow,

In addition, I have a vivid imagination,

Do you?

Will You?

Can you?

I must,

For inside that sly little shell,

Rests the answer that I have sought,

To the question I dare not ask,

To the person I dare not know,


And then,

There was you,

Holding me,

Cuddling me,

Cradling me,

Cajoling me to become what I already am,

But too stupid to see,

What could I know?

What can I know?

Do you?


Are you ready for Hunter?

For Hemingway?


My ancestors’ voices?

And all those in between?

The master class in my head…


Are you ready?

I am,

I think,

I know,

I believe…


Do you?

Can you?

Will you…


Accept my faults,

Fight and not flight,

Realize all that I am and see,

What I already am,

What I want to be,

For you,

For me,

Finding a home I never thought I would know,

Realizing that sorrow overcome is just yesterday,

In addition, promises are tomorrow’s present realized today.


May I dine at the table of you?

May I gorge myself?

May I be everything you desire?





All that I am,

For all of thee…

May I,
Will I,

Can I,

Can you?


Time, the truest great equalizer,

Begs my forgiveness,

That until now,

Muse has been Siren,

Moreover, Siren has sunk my ship,

The SS Return to Sender,

But not now,

Not here,

Not with you,

I pray,

My Ether,

These words,

Delivers me from my evil,

That I might enjoy,

A nibble,

A bite,

Of a lifetime supposed rather than imposed,

Fighting not for every moment,

But instead,

Picking like strawberries,

The ripe,

Fresh fruit,





From me,

To me,

For me,

What is more,






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