Love at a Reasonable Price

Mark 3 – KJV

18 And Andrew, and Philip, and Bartholomew, and Matthew, and Thomas, and James the son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus, and Simon the Canaanite,

19 And Judas Iscariot, which also betrayed him: and they went into an house.

20 And the multitude cometh together again, so that they could not so much as eat bread.

21 And when his friends heard of it, they went out to lay hold on him: for they said, He is beside himself.

22 And the scribes which came down from Jerusalem said, He hath Beelzebub, and by the prince of the devils casteth he out devils.

23 And he called them unto him, and said unto them in parables, How can Satan cast out Satan?

24 And if a kingdom be divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand.

25 And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand.

26 And if Satan rise up against himself, and be divided, he cannot stand, but hath an end.

27 No man can enter into a strong man’s house, and spoil his goods, except he will first bind the strong man; and then he will spoil his house.

28 Verily I say unto you, All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and blasphemies wherewith soever they shall blaspheme:

29 But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation.

30 Because they said, He hath an unclean spirit.

31 There came then his brethren and his mother, and, standing without, sent unto him, calling him.

32 And the multitude sat about him, and they said unto him, Behold, thy mother and thy brethren without seek for thee.

33 And he answered them, saying, Who is my mother, or my brethren?

34 And he looked round about on them which sat about him, and said, Behold my mother and my brethren!

35 For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother.

Mark 6 – KJV

1 And he went out from thence, and came into his own country; and his disciples follow him.

2 And when the sabbath day was come, he began to teach in the synagogue: and many hearing him were astonished, saying, From whence hath this man these things? and what wisdom is this which is given unto him, that even such mighty works are wrought by his hands?

3 Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, the brother of James, and Joses, and of Juda, and Simon? and are not his sisters here with us? And they were offended at him.

4 But Jesus, said unto them, A prophet is not without honour, but in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house.

5 And he could there do no mighty work, save that he laid his hands upon a few sick folk, and healed them.

6 And he marvelled because of their unbelief. And he went round about the villages, teaching.

Acts 1 – KJV

1 The former treatise have I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began both to do and teach,

2 Until the day in which he was taken up, after that he through the Holy Ghost had given commandments unto the apostles whom he had chosen:

3 To whom also he shewed himself alive after his passion by many infallible proofs, being seen of them forty days, and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God:

4 And, being assembled together with them, commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, saith he, ye have heard of me.

5 For John truly baptized with water; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence.

6 When they therefore were come together, they asked of him, saying, Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?

7 And he said unto them, It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power.

8 But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.

9 And when he had spoken these things, while they beheld, he was taken up; and a cloud received him out of their sight.

10 And while they looked stedfastly toward heaven as he went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel;

11 Which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven.

12 Then returned they unto Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a sabbath day’s journey.

13 And when they were come in, they went up into an upper room, where abode both Peter, and James, and John, and Andrew, Philip, and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew, James the son of Alphaeus, and Simon Zelotes, and Judas the brother of James.

14 These all continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brethren.

Mary

Aged thirteen? Fourteen? First-time mother now.
And then he starts preaching. A know-it-all —
Too holy for Mother’s Day anyhow.
A madman by scribes and friends and all called.
Go there to claim him; bring him home; do right
by him. How does he act? He says you’re not
his family more than any wight
who does God’s will. So now you’re caught, on the spot.
What do you do? What do you say? How do you play
this? Miriam’s a better translation
of your name now beseeched when folks pray.
You feel hurt, confusion, irritation?

Then Mary said: These people don’t care.
The miracles dry up; they won’t be there.
Come home. These people don’t change. Live your life.
Come home. Let us find you a pretty wife.
Let God teach us through the scriptures.
To cruelty are we anyhow inured.
And then sure enough they nail him up all torn,
to die in shame, broken for all to see.
You’re then how old? Forty-three or -four?U
Up next you join his cult and even believe
that Jesus was right to say
my family’s all who pray
for the Kingdom of Heaven —
whatever that is.

Authors: BW/AW
Editors: AW/BW
Copyright: AMW

What are you talking about?
Owning me?
I don’t spend all my time wishing trans girls could be on the biological girls track team
I’ve not hung my heart on anybody being able to pick whatever bathroom they feel like
It is not live-or-die for me that all white people stand up and admit that everything bad is their fault and everything good is the bounty they’ve stolen.
You’re drinking and jerking off to straw men.
All I want is a government that gently thinks with the people about how to find what is best for all.
All I want is a coherent, meaningful democracy where the people serve as a final check on madness and corruption while mostly not worrying about politics.
And that is the problem here.
You are agitating for the destruction of truth and democracy.
What is your glorious rebellion?
Undermining honesty in reporting, clarity in thought and debate, a careful solid democratic process.
Own the libs?
What are you talking about?
They don’t want to own you.
They just want you to think and feel clearly enough to help them gently nudge this land towards the better and away from the worse.
What is our problem?
Your feelings are hurt, and your response is to applaud tyranny and lies?
You’re playing with fire; when tyranny and lies take control, they don’t care who let them in — they just care about consolidating power, no matter how many bones they break to make their oh-so-boring-and-already-done point.
What is your problem?
Own the libs?
Why?
Are you so desperate for love and respect that you’re ready to burn everything down for a moment of feeling like you’re the clever and good one — and everyone else is a sucker or worse?
What is going on?
Own the libs?
If you keep carrying on like this, either you lose, or you win NAZI Germany.
What is that?
That is a mistake.
You are wrong.
What you are doing is evil.
I don’t speak as a wise or enlightened soul.
But I don’t need to.
Look around.
What happens when tyrants pretend elections are stolen, reality is whatever gets their audience off, and might makes right?
Look around at the last five thousand years of pointless human suffering.
I don’t have to be a moral genius or a spiritual authority to recognize that when you cheer for Trump you are cheering for evil.
Why do you do it?
How hurt are you?
And what does it have to do with me?
What is going on, America?
What am I missing?

Donald is not kidding when he talks about being president for life.
He’s poking, testing, flirting.
Donald was not playing when he asked election officials to cheat on his behalf.
He was working the only way he knows how.
His natural path is thuggery — you scratch my back, I yours, we put everyone who disagrees out of the way.
In the first four years with some luck, the system held.
But you know if he wins again — fairly or not — the system may very well not hold.
And then what?
He’ll honor you with titles and deeds of land for you good and noble service?
He’ll make your son a Mighty Freedom Ranger, outfitted with all the latest weapons, hunting down traitors and maintaining the Leader’s order?
And your daughter will be a princess, married to a knight who slayed the dragon, once and for all finally completely and irrevocably owning those evil, underhanded, anti-American libs?
This is your evil — to slide down that tube deep, the one that secretly dreams of befriending tyranny and being elevated by injustice.
The dreams that you cover with your hand as you cough.
The dreams of a land where you win and others lose, where you’re will-to-power is kinged at the expense of others’ freedoms and joys — bad anyway and squish them.
But that dream, the tyrant’s song and dance, never comes true.
Tyranny’s allegiance is only with its own lust for power, prestige, control. Tyranny may start by giving you some laws you like; but if it decides stealing power can be done more easily with contrary laws, it will create those laws. Tyranny may begin by shutting up or marginalizing those media outlets that disagree with your notions; but if it decides some of your notions are also contrary to its takeover of both reality and Reality, it will shut you down too.
You’re playing with fire.
And yet
All human hearts
contain this evil worm
that I accuse you of indulging in
What is the difference here?
At some point incompetence becomes so willful that it is an evil
Trump reached that point long ago
And I think that we as a nation have too
Now we either join hands and turn away
Or we collapse into a million lonely splinters
Why don’t you see him for what he is?
What are you so desperate for that you would destroy democracy?
What is going on?
What is inside of you when you clap for the man who would be king?
You’re lying all the time.
Everyone is.
But there is a difference here.
The cord is giving out, and every clap of your hands is driving this break a little closer to the final snap, from which recovery is very difficult and great loss and pointless suffering inevitable.
You are applauding corruption and madness.
Corruption and madness in government are when evil and foolish impulses more easily win power, prestige, and respect; justice and wisdom in government are when good and wise impulses more easily win power, prestige, and respect.
A corrupt government is a crazy is an incompetent government. For the simple reason, that it is not seeking wisdom or sanity or what is best for everyone — it is seeking only to consolidate power, silence its enemies, grow its terrible certainty.
What is going on?
Don’t you smell the evil when it hangs so thick and clear in the sky?
Maybe the norms of US American democracy could contain his worse impulses another four years.
But unlike most US American politicians, he doesn’t have any desire to make that compromise with democracy, the one that says:
OK, I don’t get to be president forever, but then I can retire into a place where democracy and the rule of law reign rather than some tyrant’s proud caprice; a pretty great deal, when one stands back a bit to consider all the angles — a moment’s reflection upon human history shows that it is an amazing wonderful blessed miraculous deal.

People, what is going on?
The world is moving round, and forward in its loop
Love is grinding through the center and bleeding out the seams and edges
The Great God groans and rounds the bend
The summer is waxes. You and I must send
our little flowers down the stream
in reds, yellows, purples they gleam
at droplets, and as the ripples catch
the morning sun
Nothing lasts forever
but let us seize the better
as best and so far
as we’re able

And dropping night
the clouds give way again
A full moon and her disciples
seep through and cover all
in a softness yellow green
The plague wiped out a third of Europe’s population.
Some scholars estimate that 90% of the native population died when Europeans showed up with their germs and ambitions.
All over the world in so many times war comes crashing down, killing and maiming most everyone, while granting a dubious and tenuous victory to a few.
We’re so lucky to have this moment of peace and sunlight to breath deep and consider how to live in a way that is truly best for all, and how to talk and think and create and decide wisely together within an imperfect but yet functioning and thus through gentle emendations improvable democracy.
So lucky to have a chance to think, feel, act aware, clear, honest, accurate, competent, kind, compassionate, joyfully together — alone and together.
Trump is wrong; but no human is good or evil; it is just that what Trump offers us are his and our worse impulses; we need to say to him, to us, to all those parts of the human that would win for the sake of winning. The point of life is kind delight and gratitude. The point of life is to bear witness to the Love that Is, and that is all there is. Better governments are those that allow us to better together gently nudge ourselves to the more aware, honest, clear, accurate, competent, kind, generous, compassionate, joyfully together.
There’s mean and kind ways to come together; the mean ways depend on shutting others out; the kind ways depend on opening up our hearts and minds to everyone.
The Love chooses everyone always forever; and we, insofar as we turn to the Love and flow with It, are never mean, never cruel, never greedy, nor prideful; but are only gentle and compassionate and giving and careful careful careful with one another and the world and systems that we all depend upon for safety and knowledge and connection.

Authors: BW/AW
Editors: AW/BW
Copyright: AM Watson
Hopes: Tired, worried, lonely
Times: Out of joints and never what they seem
Reasons: Ah, but please, I love you, I want to talk to you, I want to make it right with you.
Excuses: Picture a thousand rubber bouncy balls dropped from a height into a long narrow room; now add in some furniture, pictures in glass frames, windows, many things to shatter and topple over; now pick up all the bouncy balls and drop them again and again and again!

Great geniuses
I have been
Great defeats
I have suffered
Great nonsense
I have spouted
Now
The world closes in
Another weekend rounds the bases
Another battle lost forever
Another failure sweeping us along like
seaweed caught in the surf
that rises up
and tumbles over
until foaming-lipped
kisses the tilted sandy plain

It doesn’t matter
The project
wasn’t even the point
Anyway

Abandoning reality
to sculpt the mists and fogs
A small sacrifice
for one grown so lonely

Giving up on knowing
any facts about oneself
or anyone, anything else
No biggie at this point

Forgive me if I no longer am
I would’ve liked to be yours
I would’ve liked that
would’ve said
those were my best years
sharing mine with hers

Anyway
the truths were and never will be
as gentle as the Real
Still let me once more maintain
that
what
was sweet in what
I’ve said
I believe
And the rest —
that’s my mistake,
hiding as I did
in fears, hopes
and other flakes
tumbling off an itchy scalp
in the dried-out indoor air

Author: AW/BW
Editor: BW/AW
Copyright: AMW

Is there a center line through humans all?
And might it break? And could that matter much?
Why must he say such icky things to unball —
to bend his passion outward? There’s a scrunch
through his center line that breaks in his gut.
It breaks where he’d be a man. Yet still why?
Why name her your little world? To share the cut?
Admit defeat? With her together cry
of some ancient evil you have absorbed?
A tree will grow around a nail, a fence or stone —
Grows on- and up-ward. But still it’s torn,
disfigured, demented even. Can moans
be nails or links of fence? He’s broken there
in his center line. We can’t fix the tear.
We’d find him some wife who could share
what he is; but when would be kind and fair?
She his little twirl; he her old bother.
She play fodder; grateful for what he taught her.
When would that be any good at all?
So we just say stand up as tall
as you may within your own seeming self:
See if you bend to bushy, beaming health
or not

Why God are we gathered here together?
Saint Bernadino of Siena
encouraged the faithful to hurt their brethren —
those witches, sodomites, and Jews: all enemies
to safety, prosperity, and home.
We learn from this that zeal is not enough,
that devotion and service alone
do not make holy what is rough
in human hearts, their hands and minds.
He did perhaps some good in his time
but evil too; and the world is lined
with blood by righteous speeches mined.

America shining on a hill
in its own lonesome poetry.
Republicans clap as Trump says what he will.
Elections stolen, all corrupt but he —
all the tricks of demagogues clear as day.
Democracy betrayed, we lose our way.
A nihilistic suicide:
Breaking all for the sake of wounded pride.
It’s one thing to kill yourself,
another to grab us all while you fall to hell.
What evil fills the chests that applaud
a man who would be King, worshipped as God?
Where are we now
How has this happened?
Do I misunderstand
chords snapped
clouds o’er my land
where I always was
safe and rich in time and things,
free to pursue life as I would sing
it out
best as I could
?

There’s a break in the centerline.
Pretending justice is perfect —
another cover for lies and crime.
Supposing you know the secret —
another smothering of the sublime.

There’s a break in the centerline.
We are evil who dwell upon the earth
But some things we seek and find
are better and some are worse.

There’s a break in the centerline.
Trump’s not Trump. We’re all piles
of impulses — some cruel, some kind.
Trump’s not real. We’re all miles
of notions — some true, others lying all the time.
America’s not America.
We’re all stories that feel themselves.
We’re all wounds trying to get well.

There’s a break in the centerline.
I know the sickness is yours and it is mine.

There’s a break in the centerline.
What can we do?
What’s any good?
How can wisdom grow
in us, our words, our deeds,
our organizations, systems, choices shared?

There’s a break in the centerline.
And I feel lonely, lost, and scared.

We ask you God to guide us together to the Love
that melts away all cruelty, all push and shove.
We ask you God to help us together soar
above the demons matted in the floor
dripping mingling in dusty old
carpeting. All that stuff that may hold
a soul captive, may break a boy
down his centerline
may wreck a heart and toy
with life. For we all should shine
like stars in the heaven
like fires in the sky
All rises with the leaven
Rejoices and does not lie.

Author: Bartleby Willard with Amble Whistletown
Editor: Amble Whistletown with Bartleby Willard
Copyright: Andrew Watson, with imaginary friends and other cheap comforts

You don’t want to know me.
I have confused obsession, delusion and greed for true love.
That twists hundreds of love poems into daggers of meanness: each poem says “I care about my fantasy about love more than I care about you.”
Does it wreck this book as well?
The narrator is compromised. His love story is not true love, nor is it even madness; it is just a mean boring lie.
How did this all go so wrong?
And how could this narrator write with Beauty when he’s so selfish and dishonest at that spot where heart and mind give rise to thought and action? Clearly he is failing to illuminate his conscious space with the Light that Knows and that is thus the only aspect of our consciousness wise enough to lead the whole!
How can this jerk write a book about Pure Love overwhelming all, healing the Hurt, and providing a foundation for a shared philosophy that can help people better share democracy?
This is a failed project.
But what do I have without the project?
Lonely, tired, rat on a wheel, running nowhere fast.
And feeling always sick over what has passed between us.
What should I do?
I have refuted my own life, disproven its premises, or at least my own interpretation of my own philosophy.

Will ever you speak to me in this life?
I miss you and wish you would be my wife.

Will ever I hear your voice speak the heart
There beating inside alive from the start?

Amn’t I good for you to know and to hold?
These songs I’d felt, by crazed hopes only told?

When God shone through our valiant crew
They knew through and through that there is naught to do.

All’s well that well ends, and time was never real.
Our lives mere tales spinning from feel to feel.

What Is is always now and ever shall be
Is Sunlight skipping across the curving sea
A giggle from beyond eternity
God’s gentle laughter bursting you and me.

I love you. I want you to be happy and well.
It’s okay all the rest — whatever tales we tell,
as fall we must through shapes and fantasies.

A heart never caught another down begging on the knees
Or else I’d kneel, head bowed, and whisper please,
Please talk to me, please tell me what is real
Please speak to me, please help me learn to feel
Truer kinder wiser better
In and past this weird reckless earthy weather
You’re the one I am looking for
But what’s right for you, in this now and ever more?

Author: We’re writing this big long fantasy novel!
Editors: The usuals
Coffee & Donuts Hang-Out Crew: Bartleby, Amble, Andy
Copyright: AM Watson

360.
I love you.
Go through the layers, the twists, the turns, contortions and performances; and that’s all I got.
I love you.
Unpack it: it’s a lot.

I say it to you.
God says it to us.
What does it mean, depending on where it comes from and where it’s aimed?

I want to be what you need.
What do you need?
What can I be?
Can we turn together towards one another?
Keep finding one another better and clearer?

God is all anyone needs?
Then why am I shaped for you and you for me?

From this dome capped over our mission
We watch the Love rumbling tumbling churning burning exploding
Towards us and our little somehow stand
One and two and three
Siel, Cuir, Velma, Mench, and Stu a Quietlander Elf who’d been overseeing the Daniella-as-battery operation and had used a sheltering-lee spell (I suppose I’m claiming there is such a thing) to slip past the clearing-out spell that Siel had cast prior to erecting a dome over Daniella and the rest (excepting the otherwise occupied Luz Hector) of Mench Erlkoenigkin’s battery-destroying/dragon-rescuing/hearty-hearts-cheering squad. These were the ones who together, eyes and ears locked on the unfurling invisible calm and hearts and voices intertwined in on one rhythm and one intent, counted down together:
One and two and three
And ope the lid
To Let in the Light
From which we’d hid
Preferring night
Ignorant of ourselves
And all that we might
Find were we — one heart — to delve
Past all we tried to feel
while begging schemes to be real

Author: BW
Editor-to-be: AW
Copyright: AMW
Time: Out of Joint

You gotta help me outta this jam, God.

First of all, I know it sounds crazy, but I need her to forgive me and love me and for us to be right for each other and love each other and give each other a good marriage. And please also help us have a nice life together. Just, come on! Not everything that is crazy is wrong.

Second, we have to figure out some kind of a somewhere authorship. Writings worth writing and reading, with a paying audience. How many thousands of pages have I written to myself? There must be a way to bust out of this tired old lonesome street!

Third, the country needs to choose democracy together. I don’t know how or where you want us all to fit in, but we have to get this right now-ish.

Fourth, what to do about the Hurt and the mistakes I continue to make in it’s wake?

OK, that’s the agenda. Let’s get to it!

Thanks so much,

Total Devotee
(Author)

Editors: B. Willard & A. Whistletown
Copyright: AM Watson

For many years now we’ve dreamed of a meme so wonderful that it would enlighten us all as individuals and together as everybody. Then we could find the way forward as individuals and as groups. And everything would go better.

Like a koan, but instead of being difficult to riddle out, it would be irresistible: Once one heard it, one couldn’t help but be awakened to and live more and more in sync with the Love that chooses everyone always no matter what. And it would spread like wildfire, blessing us all with both individual wisdom and a shared song for communicating in and through and for Pure Love.

A hopeless endeavor?
We don’t know.

But here’s some links.
Please read the links quickly over (they go from older to newer) and then perhaps choose one to while at just a little while.
Or maybe not! Maybe it’s too dangerous! Maybe overflowing with loving kindness, gentle fully-compassionate resolve, and joyful generosity would cause you to adjust your priorities, change your big plans, reassess your need for that next drink, and otherwise unravel the longings you’re so very attached to!
Maybe better back out now while you still can!

The Anti-Weapon. This is where it started, way back in the spring of 2016.

There’s Nothing Left / Irresistible Koan. A 2020 stab in the dark.

Then in April of 2023, the idea kicked itself up again:

1. Wisdom Meme from April 2, 2023.
2. Home Run from April 8, 2023. A poem. Not like you think.
3. Slant Wisdom Meme also from April 8, 2023. Some kind of a poem thing.
4. A Wisdom Meme attempt from April 10, 2023. A poem.

And now in October of 2023, as our dreams of individual wisdoms overlapping and lifting us all together towards the better and away for the worse grow ever more desperate, we review some late-summer/early-fall efforts:

1. The Project This one is s a good starting point. It is short and it admits to the whole scheme.
2. Wisdom Memes for 10-Year-Olds Probably not really age-appropriate. But there is a pretty readable overview of the system (Pure Love, Something Deeperism, the Wisdom Meme), before flaring out in failed wisdom memes and self-reproach.
3. Wisdom Meme Convo Not so much a wisdom meme as a conversation between Bartleby and Amble about how they really need to get this wisdom meme thing going.
4. Hurt into Wisdom Meme Well, it hasn’t worked yet.
5. Failed Project Ends with a pretty good wisdom meme.
6. A Wisdom Meme for Liberal Representative Democracies Trying to find a way forward together.
7. There’s Nothing Left / Irresistible Koan A fall-apart followed by a desperate lunge at a wisdom meme. A poem.
8. Let’s Make a Deal Topics include wisdom memes, democracy, are republican voters evil or what?, how to actually help??

Ads for Pure Love is a related project. As was the Meme Factory

In conclusion, we are so lonely and have been for so long that we don’t know anymore which way is up!

Authors & Editors: Bartleby Willard & Amble Whistletown
Copyright and Broken Soul: Andrew Mackenzie Watson