Updated: A Letter from Carol

1960s UC Berkeley Free Speech Movement 

Posted by American Kabuki
February 15, 2014

I received this email from Carol this morning, thought I'd share it with all of you.  Its a wonderful letter, the kind that gives me a real sense of satisfaction for starting this blog.

The letter also spurred some thoughts in me as I was a child during the 60s and saw the hippies and how they recognized there was something wrong with the system of things, but later on many "sold out" to the system and became much more greedy than what they rebelled against.  A kind of cognitive dissonance occured in the 1980s, best expressed publicly in Rush Limbaugh who railed against "dirty hippies" and their efforts to create alternative ways of living and ways of exchanging value (usually expressed in the form of COOPS or Communes rather than free enterprise which was somehow considered tainted). The problem is the hippies of the 1960s didn't understand value anymore than their parents did and found themselves sucked dry of VALUE by those who had less giving hearts. Their dream withered on the vine, later to be reviled in the popular media for its rebellion against the financial status quo and government control.

The problem seems to revolve around money, and money is mistakenly called "VALUE".  It is not. Money is a DEVICE of VALUE... Let me explain further.   Lets use an analogy.  If you want to talk to someone and send a message, you can send a letter, and the paper becomes a DEVICE of transmitting the VALUE that is the message that is the DOING of YOUR BEING.   You could send a message over a walkie-talkie, the radio transceiver is a DEVICE used to transmit the VALUE, the radio waves are the TOOL, but they are not the VALUE, the VALUE is in the message which is a DOing that is an expression of your BEing (which is the source of VALUE - the inbodyment of "I" - Eternal Essence).    

This confusion and conflation of the DEVICE with the VALUE, is what causes so much confusion with people as to what MONEY is and what MONEY accounts are.  Its a clever shell game played by the banking systems with mirror accounts, and straw men (DEVICES).   THE VALUE IS YOU.  DEVICES are things and systems used to transmit YOUR VALUE,  TOOLS are things that are used on or used by DEVICES.    

Most people believe they are worthless and of no VALUE, and think their DEVICES are their value. They think the world cannot change unless a DEVICE (and can you think of a more corrupt and non-transparent DEVICE  than the Dinar RV?) It even shows up in popular culture in the expression "He who dies with the most toys (DEVICES) wins!"  (and that itself is illustrative of the illusion of death, and the confusion of what VALUE is for there are people who truly live by that motto...).   -AK


A LETTER FROM CAROL


When I was a child I was fascinated by television, although we did not own one. I remember walking the block from my grandmother's house to the appliance store where the television sets faced the window. The screens displayed the test pattern because in 1954 television was coming to Edmonton Alberta. Grainy black and white with endless adjustments to controls and antenna.

My parents refused to buy one, saying when color sets came out we could have one. They did however rent one for a month at Christmas and Easter, which I later realized coincided with the Grey Cup and Stanley Cup playoffs although their excuse was that there were good religious programs on then.

There was one show in particular that caught my attention and it was called "The Millionaire". Back then a million dollars was an inconceivable amount of money but week after week a man whose identity was hidden called his assistant in and gave him instructions and a check for one million dollars for someone he had chosen. A life-changing amount to be sure and the intent was exactly that.
The unbelief and the confusion on the faces of the recipient was tangible and when the truth dawned,  relief as they exhaled and realized whatever problem they had was now solved. I couldn't imagine anyone rich enough to continually give money away, the very concept was beyond my grasp. Where did it all come from?

There was no doubt that money was a real thing and as I began to earn it I discovered it afforded me some freedom I couldn't otherwise get, for my parents were very strict and controlling. Finally at 19 I left school and began a job which enabled me to within a year move out and get my own apartment. More freedom! Is it any wonder I equated the two?

Then at 21 I met an 18 year old hippie and followed him to California, Berkeley to be exact. It was 1966 and all the lies that had sustained wars, apartheid in America and abroad, and the capitalist system were being taken down. I demonstrated for peace and watched heads being bashed by Alameda County cops. I met my first transexual and gay people. I stayed on people's floors, couches and in $3 a week rooming houses. I worked my first waitress job and failed miserably but I was free in a way that was unique to the time.

I came back to Toronto and joined a band. We barely made enough to cover our gas money but it was so much fun we didn't care. We still meet annually for a picnic although the membership is thinning. Then I joined a bar band and toured a circuit around Ontario and upstate New York. Freedom from day jobs!
I won't recount  the many intervening years where my beliefs and (self) education were constantly changing.

Fast forward to 1998 and my introduction to the Rainbow Family of Living Light, the largest non-organisation on the planet. Camping in the national forest or "The Church" in Arizona with a bunch of hippies? Sounds great!

For a couple of weeks I was exposed to what life is like without money, government or restrictions. Where "do no harm" was the only rule. Where men wore skirts if they wanted, women went topless if they wanted and all I wanted to do was drink in all the mind-blowing feelings of being totally free. Folks set up kitchens, infirmaries, showers and pits for toilets all of which was later dismantled and the "Church" returned to it's pristine condition. I met doctors, bankers, craftsfolk, musicians, chefs, and road-dogs. Hopi elders came to my tent and begged me to make the destruction of the Mother stop. And the whole time there was drumming.

On July 4th at 11am or noon, I forget which, the drums stopped and everyone gathered in a circle to silently stand and pray for Peace. I am in tears recounting this. There were between 25,000 and 40,000 of us and I trembled and shook as I realized the power we held. For free! At the end of the hour a procession of children marched into the circle representing the next generation.

It was the most astonishing experience I have ever had and although I haven't been to another gathering since, I know my heart was forever changed.

In 2012 I was following a lot of blogs looking for signs that the cesspit OUR so-called elders had created was ending and we could finally transition into sanity. Around the middle of December I clicked on a website by American Kabuki that I had been following and there it was. A document that was so far-reaching and mind blowing that it shot me into a new world of KNOWING.

A year and a couple of months later I'm still waiting for the effects to arrive. The play is over but the curtain refuses to come down and the actors are so into their characters that they don't want to leave the stage. It's like the Truman Show continued without the main character. The writers are lousy, the set is so shabby it's falling apart and the whole place stinks.

I and a few others have left the building and are doing what needs to be done for ourselves. We're dismantling the theater one brick, one beam at a time.

Snowden tore down a whole wall!  Occupy is doing what needs to be done, yes they are still here.

Still the play goes on....and on... and on.

Some of the actors have died, the stage manager props them up in seedy, rickety chairs and tries to make them look attentive. The audience is hungry and tired but they are waiting till the bitter end.
Some of them have died and some have fallen into comas. They are yelling at us to shut up, the play isn't over as we begin carrying out rows of seats. They tell us we don't know the truth because the script doesn't jibe with our awakened knowledge. They plead with the playwright to make us shut up, it can't be true. They are dissing us on their iPads and tweeting dismissive remarks. The critics declare the play a resounding success, the reviews are being passed out by the ushers.

In the box office new programs have arrived and there is a new cast of understudies in the wings. The ghastly play continues. People don't want to miss a minute so they piss and shit in their seats. Every hour they stay they are charged for another ticket on their credit cards. When they are declined cops arrive and carry them off to jail. People are prevented from leaving even though the building is in danger of collapsing. The troops arrive and shoot anyone who tries to leave.

ALL RIGHTY THEN! We're not going to write another play, we're going to improvise and it's going to work. Why? Because we are powerful beyond our wildest dreams and the playwright sucks.
We don't need approval, we don't need a license, we don't need a ticket, WE ARE ETERNAL ESSENCE UNLIMITED!!!!!

American Kabuki reposted those documents today with some fine tuning and adjustments by Heather.
[AK note: I actually reposted some older documents that needed to be put out in public again in preparation as background material for the new documents that will be released shortly... Heather is nearly finished refining the new documents...]
It changes nothing because it is the TRUTH that has always been. WE ARE ETERNAL ESSENCE UNLIMITED AND ARE AND ALWAYS HAVE BEEN FREE!!!!

We do not need a piece of paper to trade for goods, we just need to DO and BE!!!!

I have flown twice in my waking life. Last night I dreamt I was flying. No big deal, I always knew I could. A little unsteady and uncoordinated but in the air under my own power.

The theater shakes and collapses.

Welcome Home brothers and sisters.