Our Mothers

Mothers are the loving teachers,

who are my favorites,

of all the folks upon the earth.

At all the places i have been,

they are the ones who tend

the home side hearth.

They are the gentle,

loving, guiding hands,

who lead their tiny tots

into this world.

They tenderly teach each

necessary fact of life,

to each child in its turn.

Mothers are to little

boys and girls,

the shining light of life,

to each child's mind.

To adult children too,

mothers impart the

logic and philosophy,

to justify each goal in life.

But, most of all,

mothers are the

self sacrificers of today,

who try to teach

the younger folks

how to live better

for tomorrow and eternity.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

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PTSD: Hell Lives Within

Haunted by demons

who come from the past,

engulfed by memories

that swallow your soul.

Living in torment,

dreaming of Hell,

brought on by situations

out of control.

Spiraling downward,

grasping at straws,

praying to God

to make this shit stop.


For those of us

who suffer from PTSD,

life is a battle

we fight everyday,

trying our damnedest

to make sense of it all.

We were traumatized in ways

we  are unable to share,

but when we do,

the dark clouds of fear,

hate, anger and guilt,

rush back with a vengeance

that has a life of its own.


We try and live our lives

the best way we can,

but most people think

we are crazy

or don't understand

this Hell that dwells in us

that causes such pain.

We get angry, violent or sad,

so the world sees us

in negative light,

when all we are doing is

fighting the demons

that started this shit.


Cut off from a society

that can't see

through our eyes,

isolating ourselves

inside tortured minds,

feeling desperately lonely,

seeking and clinging

to those small moments

of thoughtful insight

that come from

our journey of

questions and answers,

wondering if we

will ever be free

from this Hell that lives within.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

The Illusion Of Control

As we journey along our path of life,

the world around us appears

to be ever spinning

into a complex and chaotic circus

of performers and directors,

playing their parts on a stage 

that seems set to control us.


We can get caught up in this

tumultuous web of illusions and lies,

that sweep us into other realities

brought on by the players

whose agenda is controlling the masses.


We then struggle thru the foggy haze

of greed, hate, fear and war,

believing this illusion of control is all there is,

seeking, and stumbling our way thru,

with eyes that confuse us.


Life and nature are ever changing,

ebbing and flowing towards

a finale we can't see coming,

no matter what we do or how we play

our parts in this world around us.


The more we try to control it,

the more we hurt and suffer,

complicating our lives

to the point of chaos, or madness,

when all we have to do

is reach out and grab hold

of the only real truth out there,

which is letting go and allowing

nature to take its course.


When we finally realize 

that living in the moment,

working towards our goals and desires,

yet allowing ourselves to be

swept up in the ever-changing,

ever-spontaneous circle of life,

we can then step off the stage

of the illusion of control,

and start living our lives to the fullest.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

See Beneath The Lies

Those who wallow

in greed and hate

bathe themselves

in the blood

of the honest man,

who works and loves

each day and night,
 
providing a better place

for all upon this land.

These hate filled souls

come in all sizes,

colors and shapes,

spreading their lies

across the globe,

reaping profits

thru fear and war,

while cloaking themselves

in righteous gain.

Their deceit runs deep

and their power strong,

fleecing the masses

for all they have,

while shouting from atop

their temples and thrones, 

"freedom and justice

for all mankind!"

To see beneath these lies

of greed and hate,

is the ultimate test

 of the noble man,

who stands and fights

for the common good,

while enduring the scars

of harm and spite,

from the evil ones

who are exposed.

We all must stand together,

bonding ourselves

to a common thread,

healing from the wounds

these so-called

righteous men impose,

learning that what they speak

is their wicked truths,

and not our own.

When we educate ourselves

in the truth of light,

we can then walk with

the pure power of love,

knowing we brought

out the evil ones,

because we finally learned

to see beneath the lies.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Shadow Men

The shadow fluttered, always hovering just inside Kelli's sight. It started as a smudge in the corner of her eye, growing bolder until she turned her head for a better look and then it would disappear. It always eluded her efforts to catch a glimpse. Her mom called them shadow men. She had noticed them since she was five years old and the first time it startled her so much she ran to her room and hid underneath the bed. Eventually she told her mother about the shadows, quick as lightning and impossible to catch. Kelli was six then. Her mother had smiled and told her a story of the shadow men. They were harmless, tricksters really.

If Kelli didn't want to imagine, her mom would take her to the doctor and he would tell her they were just dust particles floating in her eye, causing the illusion of movement. Her mother had her press her hands tight against her eyes, showing her another trick the eyes could play. Kaleidoscopes of color burst behind her lids and she laughed. No, the darting black smudges had never scared her. They were gone so quickly it was hard to say how she felt about them. They awakened her curiosity and she promised that next time she saw one she would follow. She might get lucky and be able to follow a shadow to where they lived. Deep down she knew there was a logical explanation. Her mom had told her so. It was just fun to imagine.

Here was one now, fading quickly in the corner of her eye so she started the game, giggling with delight. Chasing shadows would be fun and she would only be gone a few minutes. Shadows had better things to do than playing with her all day and they were cooperating, appearing every few seconds so she could keep up. She was so intent on following it she had wandered into the woods behind her house. They were off limits unless her mom was with her but Kelli didn't pause. She ignored the thorns that bit into her legs, there was time for soap and bandages later, and she'd be back before her mom even knew she was gone. She wanted to catch the shadow man. The shadow darted and she followed deeper into the forest.

Her excitement disappeared when she realized the shadow had slipped inside a hollow tree. A few dry leaves clung to the branches and it was losing the battle to stay upright. Her eyes grew big as she glanced up, noticing the forest had swallowed her and she hadn't even known. The smell of freshly fallen leaves turned dank in this place, assaulting her nose before settling into the pit of her stomach. A tickling panic set in and she silenced her scared sobs and stumbled, her hand rasping against the rough bark. She started whispering to herself, that she wasn't lost. She would just gather herself together and find her way home.

The shadow was gone now, the game was over and maybe shadow men weren't fun after all. She wiped her face, dirt streaked her cheeks and it grew darker. Kelli heard strange voices whispering her name. They floated on the wind and the branches clacked like dry bones. Her head whipped in a frenzy, her ears trying to pinpoint the sound until her curls tangled in a low branch. She wrenched free, the panic now bottomless, and she shook uncontrollably. The voices were coming from inside the tree. The shadow man had gone inside but he still wanted to play.

Kelli tried to get her feet to take her home but her fear kept her frozen and she turned towards the tree. She leaned closer, drawn by her fear to confront the voices swirling within the hypnotic darkness. The wind began to roar and the tree shook, the shadow man shot out to blanket the small girl. A malevolent moan rumbled through the air and Kelli's shrill scream of terror burst and faded as she and the shadow man dissipated into thin air. Everything settled back into silence.

A year had passed since Susan's daughter had vanished. The woman was sitting at the kitchen table, listless and limp, staring at a postcard that had come in the mail. The headline read "HAVE YOU SEEN ME" and underneath was a picture of Kelli. Mesmerized by her daughter's eyes, she begged forgiveness from the postcard.

A knock at the door startled her out of her anguish, guilt made her clutch the paper to her chest and she wiped away her tears. Grief made her old before her time, and with the shuffle of an ancient woman she plodded to the door to open it. A rotten odor she hadn't noticed before hung heavy, unpleasant enough to make her cringe. The door swung open. She stepped back in horror. It was Kelli. Susan reached for her lost daughter before she noticed the grayness of the girl's skin. Her baby's eyes that were once a bright blue were now black. The child's head hung to the side and Susan stumbled back, realizing that hideous smell of decay was coming from Kelli. Her jaw dropped open, impossibly wide, her body jerking. Her voice hissed, dripping with accusation. "You were wrong about the shadow men, Momma. They're not nice at all."

Black erupted from the girl's mouth and eyes, tendrils of shadow darted and clung to Susan, enveloping her completely before she could manage a scream. Susan struggled even as her shadow-wrapped body evaporated like sun-drenched fog. An eerie moan played along for a few moments before fading, leaving only the ticking of the clock on the wall to echo in the empty house. The postcard of Kelli fluttered to the floor, and after awhile there was only the sun casting shadows on the wall.

Related Post: A Haunted Summer Night


This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Pink Floyd's Animal Farm

I have heard over the years that Pink Floyd's album Animals was inspired in part by George Orwell's political fable Animal Farm. I read the book as a kid in school, and have watched the 1954 British animated version dozens of times, and i have to say, there are many similarities between the two. So, i thought i would try an experiment to see if i could synch up the music with the movie...the same way you can synch up Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon with the Wizard Of Oz.

I synched the music to the movie at approximately the twenty nine minute mark, when the animals gather in the big barn for a meeting, so they could start thinking about their future. Many resolutions were put forward. It was always the pigs who made the resolutions. They decided the time had come to spread the glorious news, so that their downtrodden comrades from other farms will break their chains and join the animal revolution...Coincidentally, at this point in the movie, the music ends at the same time the movie does...I tried this experiment many different ways, and found this one to be the best fit, with several other strange and coincidental moments throughout...So, sit back, watch, listen, and judge for yourself....

Pink Floyd is most recognized for their biggest commercial successes, 1973’s Dark Side of the Moon and 1979’s The Wall. Though between these, two other albums were released. The first was 1975’s Wish You Were Here, a laid back album dedicated to former bandleader Syd Barrett (who's mental deterioration from excessive LSD use in the 60’s was responsible for his inability to perform).

But lost somewhere in their long list of landmark albums is 1977’s "Animals" which has been called "the forgotten album". Like many Floyd albums, Animals contains a theme that’s clear in concept and vast in execution. It was their response to England’s huge anti-progressive rock punk phenomenon lead by Johnny Rotten of The Sex Pistols. This was the first album where the power started shifting towards bassist and lyricist Roger Waters which would ultimately lead to Water’s departure in 1983. While making the album Waters even said, "the idea of power I find rather appealing in a strange way."

Roger Waters was partly inspired by George Orwell’s political fable Animal Farm in which people are divided up into groups represented by animals. While Orwell was focusing on Communism, Roger was criticizing his own Capitalist government. In Floyd’s version the people are either Dogs, Pigs, or Sheep. The pigs are tyrannical, self-righteous hypocrites forcing their beliefs on the dogs and sheep; the dogs are greedy money-grubbing cutthroats; and the sheep are the mindless followers who are used and abused by the others.


Pink Floyd's Animal Farm by mysticdave

Animal Farm-George Orwell:
Britain's first animated feature, which, despite the title and Disney-esque animal animation, is in fact a no-holds-barred adaptation of George Orwell's classic satire on Stalinism, with the animals taking over their farm by means of a revolutionary coup, but then discovering that although all animals are supposed to be equal, some are more equal than others.


Disclose.tv - Animal Farm-George Orwell-Full Animated Movie

The Book Of Enoch

The Book of Enoch is an ancient Jewish religious work, ascribed by tradition to Enoch, the great-grandfather of Noah, although modern scholars estimate the older sections (mainly in the Book of the Watchers) to date from about 300 BC, and the latest part (Book of Parables) probably to the end of the first century BC.

This book was written during the second century B.C.E., and is one of the most important non-canonical apocryphal (secret) works, and probably had a huge influence on early Christian, particularly Gnostic, beliefs. Filled with hallucinatory visions of Heaven and Hell, Angels and Devils, Enoch introduced concepts such as Fallen Angels (Nephilim), the appearance of a Messiah, Resurrection, a Final Judgement, and a Heavenly Kingdom on Earth. Interspersed with this material are quasi-scientific digressions on calendrical systems, Geography, Cosmology, Astronomy, and Meteorology.

It is not part of the biblical canon as used by Jews, apart from Beta Israel. Most Christian denominations and traditions may accept the Books of Enoch as having some historical or theological interest or significance, but they generally regard the Books of Enoch as non-canonical or non-inspired.

It is regarded as canonical by the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church and Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church, but not by any other Christian group. It is wholly extant only in the Ge'ez language, with Aramaic fragments from the Dead Sea Scrolls and a few Greek and Latin fragments. For this and other reasons, the traditional Ethiopian belief is that the original language of the work was Ge'ez, whereas non-Ethiopian scholars tend to assert that it was first written in either Aramaic or Hebrew; E. Isaac suggests that the Book of Enoch, like the Book of Daniel, was composed partially in Aramaic and partially in Hebrew. No Hebrew version is known to have survived. The book itself claims to be written by Enoch himself before the Biblical Flood.

Read The Book Of Enoch online in its entirety HERE

The Book of Enoch - Entire Book, R. H. Charles Version (Synchronized Text):



The Book of Enoch & The Holy Bible Mini-Series:
Enoch & The Holy Bible Complete Miniseries in it's Entirety! Includes comparisons from the New Testament Holy Bible & The Old Testament Holy Bible in regards to the Book of Enoch.



The Book of Enoch:
The book of Enoch, is a book that goes into great detail about the Watchers, which are no more than what we refer to as, Aliens, UFO's, Demons, the Fallen Ones, Nephilim, Satan and His Angels. Here what God has said to them, in the words of Enoch



Book of Enoch: REAL STORY of Fallen Angels, Devils & Man (NEPHILIM, ANCIENT ALIENS, NOAHS FLOOD: Enoch (Book of Enoch):
The Enoch video (released 2012) is a journey 5000 years in the past through the eyes of Enoch, 7th from the Biblical Adam, and great grandfather of Noah. Enoch covers the Fall of the Angels (Watchers), producing Nephilim, Annunaki, and / or the Discovery Channel's Ancient Aliens (Ancient Aliens). Enoch also covers Serpent / Reptilian creature/s. Popular TV shows such as Ancient Aliens say we are encountering "Ancient Aliens", Entities, alien beings, alien agendas, UFO's, UFO sightings from ages past, UFO sightings in modern day; but more than this, if Enoch is correct -- not only does it mean we are "not alone" -- but greater still --- he paints a picture that is somewhat darker, grander in scope, and encompasses all mankind, history, the whole universe, and dimensions from heaven to hell, and all the things that lurk between. An epic journey from man's origins, to the "fallen angels", to Noah's Flood, to the "End of the World"... to eternity itself.



Secret Knowledge of the Book of Enoch:
a glimpse into the esoteric secrets of Enochs book and the nine levels of the adept



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A Haunted Summer Night

The night was hot and Becky was restless and alone. Sitting in her cramped, little apartment,
she felt loneliness and sorrow creeping in. She just moved to this strange, old town, after
having lost her husband of ten years.  Becky was not used to living on her own, but after
Jim's mysterious and tragic death, she just had to get away and start anew.

Becky picked the small Southern Utah town of Paiute Mountain to relocate, since this was a favorite getaway spot for her and Jim during their loving years together. This old Mormon settlement town is known for it's rustic scenery, rich history and local Native American folklore. They would spend many a weekend exploring the nearby foothills and caves, and camping and soaking in the amazingly serene hot springs the area is famous for.

From the first time she visited this place with Jim she felt a strange connection to the area, especially the hot springs and surrounding foothills. Becky never quite understood why she felt this way, just that she was drawn to it in some inexplicable way. Jim used to spend a lot of time here with his family, especially his Father, who had distant Native American relatives who once lived in the area. So, Becky just figured it was Jim's stories and memories of his childhood visits that made her feel the way she did.

As Becky sat in her small apartment thinking about her past life with her husband, she sensed a strange presence about her. Some kind of mysterious energy was lurking about, making her feel like she just had to get out of there for awhile and walk. The hot springs was about a mile away, so she figured it would be the perfect time to clear her head, stretch her legs, and go for a late night soak. So, she gathered a few things together and headed out into the night.

Becky was not a superstitious person, but upon leaving her apartment, she felt a very odd sense of deja vu, like she was re-living something that had happened before, "but that could not be," she thought. She tried to shake off the feeling as she crossed the dark street and headed toward the hot springs. The night air was warm and dry, with a slight breeze that felt comforting on her skin as she walked. The moon was full and bright, adding to the mysterious, almost magical atmosphere that surrounded her.

Her senses became alive, like something or someone was there with her that she could not see. Even though it was a very warm Summer night, she had goosebumps on her skin, and Becky started to feel afraid. "You are going to be OK" she said to herself, "it is just your mind playing tricks on you." She fought off the dread she felt, reassuring herself it was caused by all the thoughts she was having lately of her late husband Jim, and being alone for the first time.

She came to an area where the paved road ended and she found herself on a well worn dirt trail that led to the hot springs. As she slowly walked along, staring up at the night sky, and that big, bright full moon, Becky started hearing voices. She looked around startled, shining her flashlight all around, desperately trying to make sense out of what was happening. She was raised to never believe in the supernatural or ghosts, but now she started to doubt everything as her mind filled with a terror she had never felt before.

Becky stopped on the path, her heart pounding and gasping for breath. She frantically started thinking about Jim and all the wonderful times they spent together. After a few moments, when she thought she had collected herself, Becky started to walk toward the hot springs again, knowing she was very close. All she wanted to do now, was soak in that healing water and calm herself down.

When Becky got within sight of the camping area adjacent to the hot springs, she noticed there were no people camping, and the lights to the main building were off. "That is odd" she thought, "there are always people here during the Summer months." That is when she got the very uneasy feeling something was just not right here, some underlying menace, lurking just beneath the surface. She stopped dead in her tracks right in front of the main building, which housed the office and owner's living quarters.

The voices she heard earlier along the trail suddenly came back, like whispers in the wind. Becky stood there unable to move, as a bone chilling terror enveloped her body. "Please help me" she tried to shout, but no words came out, just a muffled groan. That is when she noticed movement in front of her, up on the hill behind the main building where the hot springs are located. "Is somebody here" she cried in a squeaky, terrified voice. She looked closer, and noticed what appeared to be shadows cast by a fire that was partially hidden by the building in front of her.

Becky summoned all of her strength and moved closer to get a better look at what was taking place up on that hill. She noticed what appeared to be people dancing or moving in a circle around a small fire, chanting some sort of language she had never heard before. She suddenly dropped her flashlight on the ground when she felt someone touch her shoulder from behind. She slowly turned her head to see who or what is was, when she smelled the sweet breath of her long departed husband Jim!

"What is happening to me" Becky cried. Then, for the first time in years, she heard the comforting voice of Jim say, "honey i am hear with you." Over come by sheer emotion, Becky broke down, fell to her knees and started to cry. She missed Jim so much, but she could not believe he was actually there with her now, comforting her in this moment of terror. Becky could feel Jim's sweet embrace, it was as though he were still alive and they were never apart.

The sound of Becky's flashlight dropping caught the attention of the people on the hill. She heard commotion and harsh, hurried voices talking frantically amongst themselves. She looked up and saw figures dressed in what appeared to be hooded black cloaks, rushing down the hill towards her.

Suddenly the wind started to blow, and what sounded like Native American drums and music filled the air. Becky sat there on the ground, eyes closed, focusing all her attention on Jim's loving presence. She felt people rushing past her, like she wasn't even there. When she opened her eyes the cloaked ones were gone, and Jim was standing right in front of her in all his former glory. "Sweetheart," he said, "there are many things i never told you about this place." Becky could still hear the soothing music all around her, and the sweet smell of sage filled the night air. She looked lovingly up at Jim as he continued to speak.

"My ancestors settled this land many years ago, and they are the protectors of this sacred place. The reason my Father used to bring me here as a young man, was to teach me the old ways, keeping my ancestor's history alive. When the white man settled here, there were wars, and my people were driven from this land. This hot springs is a powerful spot, Her waters come from deep within Mother Earth, and is filled the magic of the ages."

Becky felt a sense of calm and peace surround her as Jim spoke, and was overwhelmed by love and gratitude. "There are dark people in the world today that use this magic for their own selfish needs, that is what you witnessed here tonight my love." Jim continued, "Always know, that no matter how much power they conjure up, Mother Earth will always find balance, and the ancestors will always be here to protect Her."

With that, Becky felt a rush of cool air swirl around her. She looked up once again and saw Jim smile down on her as he vanished into the night. Becky stood up, wiped the tears from her eyes, looked around and noticed everything seemed different. There was a light around everything, a sort of ethereal glow, that made it seem as though this was all a dream.

As Becky walked home, she played the nights events over and over in her head, scared by what took place, but comforted by the fact that Jim came to her in a time of need. As the years past, she never spoke of this to anybody, keeping her memories to herself. She continued to live in Paiute Mountain, taking frequent walks to the hot springs, soaking in the healing waters and contemplating about her mysterious and mystical haunted Summer night.

Related Post: Shadow Men


This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

The Qatsi Trilogy

A singular artist and activist, Godfrey Reggio is best known for the galvanizing films of The Qatsi Trilogy. Astonishingly photographed, and featuring unforgettable, cascading scores by Philip Glass, these are immersive sensory experiences that meditate on the havoc humankind’s obsession with technological advancement has wreaked on our world. From 1983’s Koyaanisqatsi to 1988’s Powaqqatsi to 2002’s Naqoyqatsi, Reggio takes us on a journey from the ancient to the contemporary, from nature to industry, exploring life out of balance, in transformation, and as war, all the while keeping our eyes wide with wonder.

KOYAANISQATSI, Reggio's debut as a film director and producer, is the first film of the QATSI trilogy. The title is a Hopi Indian word meaning "life out of balance." Created between 1975 and 1982, the film is an apocalyptic vision of the collision of two different worlds -- urban life and technology versus the environment. The musical score was composed by Philip Glass.

KOYAANISQATSI attempts to reveal the beauty of the beast! We usually perceive our world, our way of living, as beautiful because there is nothing else to perceive. If one lives in this world, the globalized world of high technology, all one can see is one layer of commodity piled upon another. In our world the "original" is the proliferation of the standardized. Copies are copies of copies. There seems to be no ability to see beyond, to see that we have encased ourselves in an artificial environment that has remarkably replaced the original, nature itself. We do not live with nature any longer; we live above it, off of it as it were. Nature has become the resource to keep this artificial or new nature alive.

That being said, my intention in-other-words, let me describe the bigger picture. KOYAANISQATSI is not so much about something, nor does it have a specific meaning or value. KOYAANISQATSI is, after all, an animated object, an object in moving time, the meaning of which is up to the viewer.
Art has no intrinsic meaning. This is its power, its mystery, and hence, its attraction. Art is free. It stimulates the viewer to insert their own meaning, their own value. So while I might have this or that intention in creating this film, I realize fully that any meaning or value KOYAANISQATSI might have comes exclusively from the beholder.
The film's role is to provoke, to raise questions that only the audience can answer. This is the highest value of any work of art, not predetermined meaning, but meaning gleaned from the experience of the encounter. The encounter is my interest, not the meaning. If meaning is the point, then propaganda and advertising is the form. So in the sense of art, the meaning of KOYAANISQATSI is whatever you wish to make of it.

This is its power.

POWAQQATSI's overall focus is on natives of the Third World -- the emerging, land-based cultures of Asia, India, Africa, the Middle East and South America -- and how they express themselves through work and traditions. What it has to say about these cultures is an eyeful and then some, sculpted to allow for varied interpretations.

Where KOYAANISQATSI dealt with the imbalance between nature and modern society, POWAQQATSI is a celebration of the human-scale endeavor the craftsmanship, spiritual worship, labor and creativity that defines a particular culture. It's also a celebration of rareness -- the delicate beauty in the eyes of an Indian child, the richness of a tapestry woven in Kathmandu -- and yet an observation of how these societies move to a universal drumbeat.

POWAQQATSI is also about contrasting ways of life, and in part how the lure of mechanization and technology and the growth of mega-cities are having a negative effect on small-scale cultures.

The title POWAQQATSI is a Hopi Indian conjunctive -- the word Powaqa, I which refers to a negative sorcerer who lives at the expense of others, and Qatsi --i.e., life.

Several of "POWAQQATSI's" images point to a certain lethargy affecting its city dwellers. They could be the same faces we saw in the smaller villages but they seem numbed; their eyes reflect caution, uncertainty.

And yet POWAQQATSI, says Reggio, is not a film about what should or shouldn't be. "It's an impression, an examination of how life is changing", he explains. "That's all it is. There is good and there is bad. What we sought to capture is our unanimity as a global culture. Most of us tend to forget about this, caught up as we are in our separate trajectories. It was fascinating to blend these different existences together in one film."

To be certain, POWAQQATSI is a record of diversity and transformation, of cultures dying and prospering, of industry for its own sake and the fruits of individual labor, presented as an integrated human symphony -- and with Philip Glass' score providing the counterpart, performed with native, classical and electronic instruments, its tribal rhythms fused by a single majesterial theme.

More important than empires, more powerful than world religions, more decisive than great battles, more impactful than cataclysmic earth changes, NAQOYQATSI chronicles the most significant event of the last five thousand years: the transition from the natural milieu, old nature, to the "new" nature, the technological milieu.

Nature has held earthly unity through the mystery of diversity. New nature achieves this unity through the awesome power of technological homogenization. NAQOYQATSI is a reflection on this singular event, where our subject is the medium itself, the wonderland of technology. The medium is our story. In this scenario human beings do not use technology as a tool (the popular point-of-view), but rather we live technology as a way of life. Technology is the big force and like oxygen it is always there, a necessity that we cannot live without. Because its appetite is seemly infinite, it is consuming the finite world of nature. It is in this sense that technology is NAQOYQATSI, a sanctioned aggression against the force of life itself - war life, a total - war beyond the wars of the battlefield.

NAQOYQATSI takes us on an epical journey into a land that is nowhere, yet everywhere; the land where the image itself is our location, where the real gives way to the virtual. As the gods of old become dethroned, a new pantheon of light appears in the integrated circuit of the computer. Its truth, becomes the truth.

Extremes of promise and spectacle, tragedy and startling hope fuse in a digital tidal wave of image and music. In a poetic nanosecond, NAQOYQATSI give utterance to a new world coming, a new world here.

A Seafarer's Poem

Everyone has a dream

in there hearts,

but for some

it is a life at sea.

For adventures bold,

and bounty deep,

a seafarer's

tale it told.

Of Wintery gales,

and crashing waves,

of Summer's

wind and rain.

For life upon

the Alaskan seas,

is one few

men can claim.

Working hard each

day and night,

with lonely

hearts of home.

Your shipmates

are ever there,

and many

friendships born.

We are out there

in the thick of it,

all struggling

to maintain.

Laughing, fighting,

praying, singing,

surviving is

our game.

When the fish

are gone and

duties done,

our hearts are

swelled with pride.

For we thrived

upon these

Alaskan seas,

and brought

our bounty home.

Related Post: Into The Land Of The Midnight Sun

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Universe Within

Into glowing light,

universe within.

Our love is inside,

let it all begin.

Leave your

body behind,

celestial flying.

Future is

passing us by,

we are seeing.

Channeling

the divine,

God is flowing.

Reach as high

as the sky,

time of spirit.

Higher realms

of knowing,

consciousness

is calling.

Feel the pull 

of Earth's love,

peaceful thoughts

that cannot hide.

Weep before

the ages,

in the glowing

mystic light.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Darkness Ignites

Feeding fires and

burning desires,

the darkness

is alive.

It lies smoldering

in passionate souls,

waiting to ignite.

During the darkest

and loneliest times,

we feel

we stand alone.

The darkness creeps

into our

tortured minds,

comforts us

in warmth.

It ignites

a fire

to battle on,

showing us

who we are.

As we continue

on our

war torn paths,

a shining light

is born.

We now see

darkness and light

are entwined,

everything's a test.

So to forgive

the darkness

in our hearts,

truth and love ignite.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

One Man's Journey Into The Mystic

Every journey begins

with a question,

thoughts drifting thru

the sands of time.

Looking for answers

on roads less traveled,

searching, hoping,

passions entwined.

Deceivers are lurking

in the shadows,

tricksters playing

with your mind's eye.

Go and walk the walk

with faith and courage,

praying, seeking,

find the divine.

The many trials

and tribulations,

shaping your path

along the way.

For one man's journey

into the mystic,

is one man's answer

to his life.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

The Dark Side of Oz

I've watched

"The Dark Side of Oz"

quite a few times,

and I'll have to admit

that there are

a lot of coincidental

events and themes.

Although Pink Floyd

has never admitted to

specifically recording

"Dark Side of the Moon"

to sync to "The Wizard of Oz"

(except Roger Waters,

who stays quiet when asked),

there are just a few points

that should be examined.

I guess you'll just have to

come to your own conclusion.

It's just the way it

is with this band.

But one thing

"The Dark Side of Oz"

does do is bring the theme

of The Dark Side to life,

whether it was

intentional or not.

In other words,

it is a worthwhile vision

into a world of

amazing coincidences.

The Dark Side of Oz by mysticdave

Related Post: Pink Floyd's Animal Farm

Into The Mystic Light

The mystic truth

of Universal

Oneness,

binds all

living souls

to the thread

of life.

We are all

born with the

Divine Spirit

inside us,

shining its

soulful

mystic light.

It has been

celebrated

throughout

the ages,

explored by

ancients

and modern

man alike.

This journey

begins by

listening to

and seeking,

that inner voice

inside your heart.

It will fill you

with the wisdom

of the ages,

pouring out tales

of truth and love.

Even though

this World

is surrounded by

delusion and

suffering,

we are still

inter-connected

beings to the

living nature

of the Universe.

To attain

enlightenment

in this lifetime,

we must awaken

to this

mystic truth.

We can

then begin

to raise the

changing view,

sending love

into all,

guiding us into

the mystic light.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Into The Land Of The Midnight Sun

Hopes and dreams

abound in the land

of the midnight sun.

Endless is the calling

of bounty far and wide.

Venturing forth into

this vast land,

like and ebbing,

flowing tide.

This wild place

called Alaska,

breeds a certain

type of spirit.

Living their journey

off the land,

bringing a rugged

sense of self

along with it.

The magical and

mystical winds of

Alaska are blowing,

whispering a tale

of pride and fear.

This ancient land

holds many secrets,

waiting for those who

are brave of heart,

to venture forth

and hear it.

This last frontier

is a land

unlike any other.

Sitting and

waiting patiently,

to forever

change the lives

of those who enter

into the land of

the midnight sun.

Related Post: A Seafarer's Poem


This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

The Corporation

About the Film:
Provoking, witty, stylish and sweepingly informative, THE CORPORATION explores the nature and spectacular rise of the dominant institution of our time. Part film and part movement, The Corporation is transforming audiences and dazzling critics with its insightful and compelling analysis. Taking its status as a legal "person" to the logical conclusion, the film puts the corporation on the psychiatrist's couch to ask "What kind of person is it?" The Corporation includes interviews with 40 corporate insiders and critics - including Noam Chomsky, Naomi Klein, Milton Friedman, Howard Zinn, Vandana Shiva and Michael Moore - plus true confessions, case studies and strategies for change.
WINNER OF 26 INTERNATIONAL AWARDS! 10 Audience Choice Awards including the 2004 Sundance Film Festival.
THE CORPORATION is Canada's most successful documentary... EVER!

Excerpt from the film:
One hundred and fifty years ago, the corporation was a relatively insignificant entity. Today, it is a vivid, dramatic and pervasive presence in all our lives. Like the Church, the Monarchy and the Communist Party in other times and places, the corporation is today's dominant institution. But history humbles dominant institutions. All have been crushed, belittled or absorbed into some new order. The corporation is unlikely to be the first institution to defy history. Based on Joel Bakan's soon-to-be-published book, "The Corporation: The Pathological Pursuit of Profit and Power," this documentary is a timely, critical inquiry that examines the very nature of the corporation-its inner workings, curious history, controversial impacts and possible futures. We begin by learning that under the law, corporations have all the rights and yet few of the responsibilities of people. By viewing the behavior of the corporation through the prism of Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (or DSM III, the gold standard of psychiatric evaluation) the filmmakers discover that if the corporation were indeed a person, the person would be considered a psychopath. Featuring candid interviews with CEOs, whistle-blowers, brokers, gurus, spies, players, pawns and pundits, the chronicle charts the spectacular rise of an institution aimed at achieving specific economic goals as it also recounts victories against this seemingly invincible force. Once you see it, you may find yourself thinking twice about what you eat, what you wear, what you watch and what you read.


Check out the films website for more info, to purchase the DVD's and/or donate to their cause: The Corporation Website

You can also download this movie to share here: The Corporation - Filmmakers Official Download Edition (2003)

You can also check out the film on youtube: The Corporation (complete, chapters 1 to 23)

Mystical Winds Of Change

The mystical winds

are blowing,

there are changes

in the air.

Some can hear

their whispers calling,

filling minds with

truth and fear.

We are now

on a journey,

into the

mystic realms,

where truth is

waiting patiently,

to wake us from

our foggy spell.

The fear of

not knowing

what lies around

the bend,

can test our

faith and courage,

but can bring about

 our very best.

The evil ones are

always out there,

hiding in these

foggy realms.

Whispering their lies

of greed and hatred,

filling hearts

with mortal fear.

The mystical winds

of change

are all knowing,

and every journey

is a test.

Waking up to

the truth of this,

will lead us

down our path.

We can then walk

amongst the sacred,

knowing that

we are all

One inside at last.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Day By Day

Day by night, night to day,

going through the motions,

literally bored to death,

day by day by day.

Sleep and wake, work and play,

thrill seeking, joking, singing,

anything to relieve monotony,

inherent in the moments.

It is beyond boredom,

a feeling of plasticity,

of not really belonging,

never going home.

Triviality, nonsense, business,

to busy oneself

out of the boredom

that survival can become.

Acquiescence, growing older,

settling in habitual hauntings.

Casual acceptance of lies

told to oneself.

Lies of belief and dreams.

Open your eyes, look around.

I see, desperation, poverty,

wanton spite thrives,

miserably, anxiously,

pride, lust, mostly fear.

Fear in every glance,

and boredom overwhelming

the entire scene....

Still your mind from

these anxious dreams,

take a deep breath

of life giving air,

for it soothes and heals us.

Always remember Mother Earth,

life giving matron,

smiles her love upon us.

When the dawn arrives,

it makes us free, unfettered.

Ah, the blessed morn,

awakening the prisms,

rekindling their rainbows,

and lilting mankind

to action flame.

Father sun, he makes

love to our Mother

the Earth, recreating life.

Blessed be their union,

they dance, and so too

we love the day, our home,

for oh so many centuries.

Nite, the final frontier of man,

he beckons, he calls us

to dream and dream again.

So share his peace,

so revel in shadow.

Do not fear these anxious dreams,

for the nite, your brother,

loves you.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Magic Dreams

Lazy rings of smoke

float ever down,

in filtered evening

beams of magic light.

Miles and miles

of anxious dreaming.

Tell my tales

to all i meet,

so i know myself.

Throbbing midnights

and lover's dreams.

Magic only i know

alone in the dark.

Lost in space,

not to memory,

never to life.

The more i

think about it,

the more unclear

it becomes.

So away i go,

flying higher,

faster i fly, Alive.

Catching glimpses,

breaths of strange air.

Growing, glowing,

freedom of life.

All hail the magic night,

parent of inspiration,

mother of us all.

Dreams so old,

so strange,

now i think i know,

so i must you see.

Knowing is believing,

knowing is wondering.

Seeking, dreaming,

soaking up the

whole damn thing.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.