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Location:Texas, USA Naturalized US Citizen of Irish extract -   Fixed Wing and Helo trucker.Interests: "The Absurdity of Man". I am a proud supporter of Blarney, Nonsense, and Hooey. I enjoy being a chopper jockey, and trying to figure the world, people and belief systems out. I'm just not very good at it, so it keeps me real busy. I scribble, blog, run this website, mess with rental houses, ride motorbikes, and read as much as I can. I went solo 44 years ago, and I like to say I'm gonna get me a real job one day. When I grow up. ("but not just yet, Lord, not just yet") For my aviation scribbles see www.chopperstories.com.... enjoy! I wish you Peace in your Life. May you always walk with the sun on your face, and a breeze ruffling your hair. And may you cherish a quiet wonder for our awesome Universe. Life isn't always good. But it is always fascinating. Never quit.
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Manifesto - I see the World


MANIFESTO - I SEE THE WORLD

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     I see the world.  I am the Silent Warrior.
I see it, unflinchingly, albeit through simple eyes.  No Einstein, me.
No Charles Dickens, either. Just little moi, the scribbler. Bye A streak of Mischief. With pronounced Anarchistic, Anti-Authoritarian instincts. Floater me. He who likes to laugh. And scribble stories. And does both, a lot.  
I guess I'm just comfortable being an ugly, little turtle. On a quest.

      I love to fly. Dream. And ponder. I'm curious. Peak Awareness. The meaning of it all. The Darkness of her Light. The Real Truth. The real, honest-to-goodness Truth. Not the tediously regurgitated, mass produced, Universal Belief Systems foisted upon us by supremely self elevated, mortal men. Who snore, fart, and get it hilariously wrong, with lots and lots of unintended consequences, just like the rest of us. Who also, we suspect, are variously influenced by Power, Greed, Hypocrisy, Fanaticism, Narcissism, Elitism, or many other forms of "-isms".  Their vanity too will pass. The King's Great Castle is just another gaily colored bauble designed to dazzle, impress and distract the naïve and the credulous ones amongst us. The Old Servant, sitting placidly on the wall, realized that. Vanity of vanity, all is vanity. Emperor Nero fiddled while Rome burned, but today they just play Golf and Teleprompter.

What do I really, really think? As I fly along, alone, above the waves?

I think "Damn! I've been so lucky".  For I am Flying. It's been a long road, from the Sugarloaf Mountain, and The Gentle Drunk, past The Modelmaker and The Teddybear, through Storm and Fire, past Spotlights and Bullets, to here. At times I looked through the Eyes of a Dead Man, and other times I held my breath. But to finally be here, through the Snowstorm of my thoughts. To see this. The supreme allegory. Life and Death. Hope and Despair. Idealists and Cynics. Light and Darkness…
      I see it, still after all these years, as an adventure. A blast. All those years ago, I was Riding the Wind. And only a few days ago, September 2013, half a world and a life time away from that sad insight into the hate-filled minds of Men, I was once again cranked over on my motorcycle, scraping the foot rest, sparks flying, throttle wide open, the bellow of exhausts reverberating across the piney forests of East Texas.  Crazy, infuriating, perplexing, bewildering, haunting, insanely touching, beautiful beyond words. Life itself is Good.
Let's Ride, my little Brother...

     But what Man has made of it... the amount of suffering in this world, and the raw, fanatic blindness of men, is oppressive. Yet we all, to some degree, turn a blind eye to it. It's too much. Our small minds cannot cope with all that. We switch off. Rationalize. It's a self protection mechanism.
So why are we here? What purpose, if any, do we serve?   
       Are we waiting for the Master's Return?

       I have thought about this for years, decades in fact. Yes, we have a purpose. A Mighty Purpose. We are here to find the Questions. That is our Mission. With luck, good Teachers, and patience, we may even find some of the Answers. We may grasp a small part of the picture. A very small part.  You might just see a small chink of light, as you sit in a darkened room. If somebody, somewhere, some Force, some Presence, cautiously lifts a tip of the Great Curtain for you, but what you are seeing is all your eyes can handle. Outside your darkened room there exists a blaze of light, so bright your feeble mind cannot cope with it.
       It's arrogant, and dangerous, to set yourself up as the Chosen One, the Anointed One, the Supreme Leader, who knows it all. All the Obamas, all the Ayatollahs, all the Dear leaders, all the rah-rah-rah Gogglebox Talking Heads...
What IS IT with you guys?   Is there any mystery left in Life? Or do you know how to fix everything, you're that clever? Just vote for you, and you'll save the World?
Nonsense. Transparent nonsense. Bunch of liars. Blind, and unseeing.
Come fly with me, you cynics and users.  Come fly with me, and see that Darkness. That all pervading darkness, that reaches out in tendrils, and coils, and ugliness, and seeks to ensnare, and destroy. That seeks to blot out the Light. The Darkness YOU serve so well. Despite you, the little Bird off Slea Head struggled bravely on, and never gave up. No thanks to you, and your selfish ambitions, cloaked in convenient platitudes.
Come fly with me, you smug, supremely self satisfied, condescending, secret manipulators. And see the Light. That stubbornly fights back, and pushes away the Darkness. The Light, that insists on blazing through, blasting through, and illuminating our small minds.

       The Good Book is full of examples, where what men saw, understood, and took to be self evident, was actually different. The truth was much more subtle. What men confidently expected to happen, did not. I tend to be very wary of people who take the Bible literally.  I'm pretty sure that NOBODY on this little planet of ours really knows exactly what is going to happen. And all those many, many cocksure, ultra holy preachers who confidently claim that THEY do, are going to be made to look remarkably silly.   

      What do I really, really think? As I fly along, alone, above the waves?

I think I made a tiny point in my story The Road of Light. We all live and work under The Blade of Damocles. And who knows if the Fool on the Hill might perhaps have at least glimpsed the Truth? And how about The Fool of Auschwitz? What did he realize at the end? The ultimate utter inability of Man to permanently hurt, much less destroy, his fellow Man?  
     Is it any wonder that he smiled?   

I know, many dismiss what they cannot see, or touch. Or buy, or sell. Irrelevant. Not important. Fantasy. Fairy tales. Superstition. Opium of the Poor. Childish nonsense. Santa Claus...

     *             *             *              *             *

     I see the world.
I am the Silent Warrior.
I am the Fool on the Hill.  

I was that little bird.


Francis Meyrick




Last edited by Francis Meyrick on September 12, 2014, 12:22 pm
We little humans, hurtling through the Universe on our tiny, pale blue dot, will find few answers to Life's great mysteries. But we should at least find many of the questions. To write is to ask. To seek. To grope. With humility, and humor. Peace.
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