Saturday, December 16, 2017

Is this the dawn of the return of the jedi? Or the sunset?

Yesterday afternoon, I saw "The Last Jedi”, at Tropic Cinema. I knew beforehand it was not about the end of the jedi. Otherwise, there would be no more $tar War$ film$.

The last Jedi, Luke Skywalker, wants nothing more to do with anything, as he waits on the Force to take him to Jedi heaven from an island on a remote planet where a few Jedi relics and sacred texts remain.

I admit to choking up several times when parts of the film poked into tender parts of my psyche.

I admit to wondering several times during the film, and afterward last night, if there remain any more Jedi on this planet? Or, am I alone? Or, will I pass it on to someone, so to speak.

I admit to thinking if I published that, I might get locked up and the key thrown away. Such is life.

There is one truly poignant moment in the film, which struck me as either parody, or as pirating the climax of the film, “The Razor’s Edge”, in which Billy Murray plays a spiritual seeker.

After searching all over for books containing secret knowledge, Murry ends up in a lama’s monastery in the Himalayas, sweeping floors, cooking meals, and washing dishes.

One day, the lama tells Murray it’s time for him to go higher up on the mountain, alone, in retreat. As Murray readies to leave, the lama hands Murray his tote bag full of his cherished books.

Up on the mountain, cold, still searching, shivering with his hands held over a small fire, something dawns. Murray pulls out his sacred books and starts ripping out pages and feeding them to the fire. 

After he has fed all of his cherished books to the fire, Murray knows it's time to leave the mountain top and go back into civilization, where he then has another kind of experience altogether.

Luke Skywalker missed that return to reality in The Last Jedi. Return to ground, where the Jedi are honed. But then, Star Wars films have become Disneyfied. The razor’s edge blunted, a bit.

Even so, I nearly burst out laughing and applauding when Yoda, from the spirit, maybe like Jesus meeting Saul of Tarsus on the Road to Damascus, brought down lightning and burned the Jedi temple and its relics and books to rubble.

I nearly burst out laughing and in applause, because that’s precisely what Roy Moore and all of his followers, and all of Christendom, for starts, need to do. It’s time for them all, and the other religions, too, to start being in direct communion with the Almighty – The Force, in jedi jargon.

Along much the same line of thought, here’s a Facebook messenger thread started yesterday after I accepted her friend request:

Christmas Card Delivery pass it on to all your loved ones Please Send It Back To Me Thanks




-1:03







Sloan

words are safer (virus-wise) than these kind of invites


Sue

Oops!

I just thought it was cute!

Sloan

tend to avoid anything that asks me to do something. I do wish you a good Christmas. Hope everyone has one. Including being taken over and run by Jesus. don't mean that in a churchy way.😎


Sue
You gave me a good giggle! Merry Christmas to you 😊
One year ago today, I flew from Key West to my hometown, Birmingham, Alabama, for a spiritual retreat, which went kinda like what Bill Murray experienced after he left the monastery and returned to Europe.
Up in Alabama today, Roy Moore still waits on God  to tell him he lost the election, while his legions blame everything but the beams in Moore's and their own eyes, while:

On the federal judiciary front, although I clerked for a U.S. District Judge upon graduating from law school, I could not have answered Senator John Kennedy's questions about the Daulbert standard and the Younger and Pullman abstention doctrines, but I can't say I ever heard of a lawyer not knowing what a motion in limine is. What possessed this man to take up most of Kennedy's allotted time by making long, non-responsive answers? What possessed this man to think he is qualified to be a U.S. District Judge? More important, what possessed President Trump to select this man to be a U.S. District Judge for life? Roy Moore could tell you if he were not so blind.


As for the lockup Hillary crowd ... 
I think a special counsel should be appointed to investigate Hillary and her gang members with the same vigor Special Counsel Robert Mueller is investigating Donald Trump and his gang members. I think the American public should know all the dirt on both gang leaders and their thugs.
Meanwhile, down here in paradise pretend, from yesterday's Coconut Telegraph (bigpinekey.com), published Tuesdays and Fridays:


[Polluted Plugged Canal] This is way beyond the BOCC maneuverings to tax us all to improve select canals by perpetually flushing the rotting fish carcasses, bilge drippings and yard run-off pollution into the waters we swim in.
The good people on the plugged swimming canals in the Cahill Pines and Palms subdivision (oceanside between Seacenter and the Big Pine Shell station) were gagged by the smell of raw sewage in their interconnected canals on Monday. By Tuesday morning, fish of several varieties were belly-up on the surface. Small fishies were gulping air on the surface. The stench was not as bad Tuesday as Monday, but still nasty. The water is poop brown and murky. The color changes beyond the dam. These canals did not stink, ever, before, and they have never been brown. There were no noticeable fish kills in the long extreme cold snap of several years back. The water had cleared from the surge run-off discoloration from Evil Irma. For the first time, the previously safe and inviting swimming canals now appear to be a big cesspool.These canals were alive with tarpon, snook, snappers, jacks, pinfish, grouper, needlefish, crabs, two green sea turtles and a hawksbill turtle prior to Irma. They are deep, but there is plenty of life resident on the bottom. You could hear the snapping of mantis shrimp wherever a mini reef has grown on something hard on the bottom. Bottom muck is not deep, but the bottom is mostly just lime, possibly from shore erosion of decades. I drove along the canals looking for a pollution source, but did not discover it. However, there are numerous “springs” flowing into the canal bottom. My guess is that an FKAA sewer forcemain has burst from the extreme pressures generated by the E/One grinder pumps, and is flowing underground into the canals. These pumps can generate pressure far exceeding the working pressure of the pipe fittings, and far exceeding the test pressures used to verify initial integrity. FKAA and the County were warned of this danger years ago by Dump the Pumps, but they ignored the warnings and recklessly proceeded.

The gravity sewer pump station behind the Shell station also uses these residential pumps and is continually in alarm, and already has had pump replacement to no avail.

How does one mitigate the damage to these canals once the source is repaired (if ever)? About the only way to ever clean these canals is to dig out the plug dams and open them to North Pine Channel. Even then, it may take pumping into the ends to push the crap (literally) out to dilute it. We are talking roughly 30 million gallons of contaminated water that can only escape on an outgoing tide through holes in the rock. FKAA has denied responsibility and their brother DEP is trying to blame the stench, brown water and dead fish on something else.

Is this the beginning of a national news story and class action lawsuit for huge property value losses? Stay tuned. The plot thickens, just like the canal water.

As for my social life in Key West ...


What social life?

I have been spending afternoons, weather permitting, lounging in the camping hammock a Key West friend bought for me earlier this year, when I was living on the streets, sleeping nights in the front lobby of the Key West police station, when I was not able to sleep nights in friends' homes.

I string the hammock between Australian pine trees in Fort Zachary Taylor State Park, photo above, for which I have a one-year pass donated earlier this year by the same Key West friend, so I would have a place to lay down during the day, when I needed to rest or sleep without being harassed by city police.

Fort Zach, as it's called locally, is were I go in Key West and feel as if I'm in a different place - outside the dome, so to speak.

I get there on my bicycle. I get everywhere on my bicycle. 
A lovable, functionable, lady's Sun bicycle, so ugly that maybe nobody will ever want to steal and then be seen on it.

En route to Ft. Zach, I pass through the new city park still under construction on the scarified land the Navy gave to the city maybe 15 years ago, which then became a political football going round and round.
I can't imagine anyone wanting to hang out and relax in that new park. It looks like a great place, though, for people to walk their dogs on all that nice green grass.
Nearly $50,000,000, or so, for a dog park with an outdoor amphitheater.
sloanbashinsky@outlook.com

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