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Surreal Amerika

Once in a Blue Moon, I discovered organic strawberry jam oozing over a freshly toasted english muffin; and with a cup of some brahmsian tea, I was suspended in veranda sunrises, in the shade of an ocean breeze.

Shadows slip away, washed by the motion of seas, contained in a moment, endlessly rocking with the free flowing liquid of dreams. Jam oozing, oozing and moving, ebbing and spreading spontaneous creation into fragments of bliss called Jam ooza. This is the place where Jamooza resides, within and without you as the shifting of tides and the waves of the ocean meets the moon in the sky.

It’s a state of living and being meant to capture cool air, bubbling up from the currents and into the glare of the still turning movements and ripples of time, heading straight towards the streams of the consciousness I. Where creative intelligence with all of its signs, wielding words of obscurity that must signify, jam spread over landscapes of living absurdity, while RON PAUL is still serving a slice of American Pie.

Atlas Shrugged in discontent as freedom fades from the Fathers’ intent. Energy bends and bonds into rhythms as incoherent allusions whither into socialist ruin. Yet freedom will jam and entangle the light as Kafka precedes, dancing still in twilight, while the evening eclipses the mind. A monk, chanting sotto voce, empties the lingering scent of the dark from the night as the morning falls into the trees.

I hope that Jamooza sways the spirit away from the mundane gravity of oppressive days as The Sound of Silence rises from our dreams and potentially sees – the dawn of a morning star… while some boy on echo beach remembers the song of Good Vibrations that created smiling thoughts… once on a summer’s day, in a time and a place, not so far away…

Resurrection of freedom in America unfolds as the power of darkness tries to withhold. Yet, the new Father rises to restore the Republic of life. Hero of the oppressed, RON PAUL embodies the truth of Jamooza. The spring of his words will refresh and renew us – ringing the bell of our liberty once more.

The fusion of science and art bursts from Aurora’s flame to the heavenly galaxies above as evidenced by astronomers who beamed the sound of a generation Across the Universe and into deep space and I wonder if Carl Sagan whispered an interesting commentary on the science of being and art of living, from a place we don’t really understand – billions and billions of light years away.

Perhaps Einstein’s pursuit of the unified field transcends the silence of a Zen Master contemplating nothing during a total eclipse – illuminated from darkness by once in a blue moon. Then again, perhaps the truth is beyond our fear, hidden in a remote region of Tibet, where Einstein can be found marking brilliant symbols, to this day, on a stone wall in the solitude of a cool cave.

It can be refreshing to winter in Far Tortuga or to summer in the woodlands of Walden Pond. Rather, consider a cup of coffee, a tea party, perhaps a scone… and Jam with me on a journey beyond madness for the sake of a restful diversion, in the reign of a full blue moon… rising again, and again forever, in a place that it is nowhere but here…

by Joseph K