The Intergalactic Cowboy

    I have now safely returned to Thomaston after a mercifully tolerable flight from the U.K. The plane was not full and I was able to get three seats to myself, with armrests that fold up. Oddly, I was not sleepy enough to lie down, but I actually had more room than the people in first class. Not bad for a free ticket !

    My revelries ended in Atlanta due to the attitude and incompetance of the airport employees and the T.S.A. employees. These people were more interested in making their international visitors feel stupid rather than guiding them and assisting them. These people have no idea how bad they make Americans look to people from other countries and cultures. As a former Atlantan I am disgusted ! The forty minute wait for our bags didn’t help either. Forty minutes; after going through immigration and customs ! Atlanta sucks !

     For once in my life I can appreciate the lack of culture in Thomaston. For twenty five days I experienced a cultural overkill overseas. It actually feels nice to be cut off from modern culture and to just process what I have experienced lately.

Enough,

I.C.

       In London again after a cramped but fairly pleasant flight.  There is not much more news, so I will quote Aldous Huxley again. These quotes are for all of you who may think that the religion that you either chose or were born into does not have the whole thing completely right :

      from The Perennial Philosophy :

p 155     ‘The duty of any given individual is not to remain complacently fixed in the imperfect religion that happens to suit him; it is rather to transcend it , not by impossibly denying the modes of thought, behaviour and feeling that are natural to him, but by making use of them, so that by means of nature he may pass beyond nature. ‘

p 163    ‘Spiritual progress is through the growing knowledge of the self as being nothing and of the Godhead as an all embracing reality.’

p 165   ’ We have been given free will , in order that we may will our selfwill out of existence and so come to live continuously in a state of grace.’

p 170    ’ God did not deprive thee of the operation of his love, but thou didst deprive him of thy cooperation. God would never have rejected thee if thou hadst not rejected his love. Oh all good God, thou dost not forsake unless forsaken; thou never takest away thy gifts until we take away our hearts. ’ — St. Francois de Sales

‘Getting in touch with the tangible in order to reach the intangible,’ — from a Guitar Craft monograph

I.C.

       I jumped an early train to Rome today and only had to pay an eight Euro surcharge, well worth it.  My only activities will be to eat some good food; drink some good wine,  and take a walk. In my perusing of Michaelangelo self portaraits yesterday, I noticed that in these paintings, he looked a lot like a homeless person that I encountered in Nice a couple of weeks ago.

    On October 10th, I was given an opportunity to  compensate for a hurtful act that I committed the day before. On the 9th, I ignored a homeless man who was sitting in a stairwell asking for money. Later, when I walked back by, I drank the last little bit of a soft drink that I had just bought. The homeless man wa still sitting thee, with a facial expressin of extreme hurt. He was just watching me drink a cold drink while he was there, thirsty and needy. His mouth was slightly ajar and his eyes were just slits. He looked like a small child, whose world had just been destroyed. This image of him, in so much emotional pain, haunted me for all of the next day.

    The next night , I walked down the same street and there he was, sitting in the same stairwell. I walked over to him and gave hime half a Euro. I then offered him my half empty water bottle saying “besoin l’eau, monsieur.” He accepted my gifts with a smile.

    Although this may not have atoned for my ignorance and insensitity on the night before, I do hope that my charity on the following night has equal weight in that eternal record of human events in the unconditioned world. There is nothing wrong with saving ones money and spending it on a vacation, but there is something wrong with flaunting ones wealth in front of a needy person.

In the spirit of repentance,

I.C.

     Today I visited the Acadamia here in Florence. The Acadamia is suprisingly small, but they make up for quantity with quality. The first room that you walk into has paintings by Italian painters. The next room has unfinished sculptures by Michaelangelo, probably eight of them. The next room has Michaelangelo’s David, which stands about thirty feet tall. Totally mythical and astounding. The fourth room has ancient musical instruments, such as Stratavarii.  These were the only four rooms open today. A fifth room containing sculpture was unfortunately closed to the public today.

     I then located La Casa Buonaritti, which is a house that Michaelangelo lived in for a while. It contains portraits and sculpture by him. The portraits are often self portraits of him with various popes and kings.  The first floor of this house features paintings by Fahrio Boschi, although I don’t know what his significance is in this museum, other than him being a fantastic painter.

Gotta go !

I.C. 

     Today I visited the Uffizzi Museum here in Florence. It has the reputation as one of the finest museums in the world. Fortunately I was tipped off to buy my ticket in advance on the internet. There is a two hour wait to get in if you don’t !  This museum is the size of one wing of the Louvre. The presentation is a little nicer in my opinion. The first room that you go into contains sketches by Leonardo da Vinci. Other rooms had painting of similar themes, but by different artists. e.g. one room of Madonnas and Child; another room of Adams and Eves; another room of Crucifixions.  Some rooms were reserved for only one artist. I saw the Birth of Venus painting that is so well known. It, like the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, is protected by shaded glass, which obscures it a little bit; unfortunately. It was still a breathtaking site !  I also saw the sculpture of Hercules, wrestling with the snake; oh what is the name… Supposedly, one of the Adoration of the Magis in that particlular room was by Leonardo da Vinci, but I never figured out which one. Likewise, one of the Holy Familys in that room was by Michaelangelo.

     This trip has been a whirlwind tour of masterpieces. Tomorrow I visit La Acadamia.

Arreviderci,

Il Vacero Intergalactico

    In Florence, after one brief night in Rome. I got into Rome after dark yesterday, but after drinking a small bottle of wine, I summoned up the courage to walk to the Colloseum and view it at night. Each arch of the stucture was illuminated by a small internal light creating a rather beautiful effect. It was worth the one mile walk there and back. The city of Rome must spend a fortune on illuminating its buildings and pumping water through its fountains !

      I took the train to Florence today and am staying in a very nice hotel in a neighborhood that is not quite happening. There is only one proper Italian restaurant around here which I will visit in a few minutes. I have only found one internet cafe with rather high prices for internet access.  Tomorrow I will walk to the Uffizzi Museum, which is less than a mile from here.

      I should add that the people here in Italy have been extraordinarily kind to me. They have put up with my minimal Italian language skills, even when I mix my Italian with other languages. Last night I ordered number 252 from the menu by saying Vorrei dos cinque dos, per favore.  The waiter then said Es espanol, senore…   The cinque was correct but the two should have been Due, not dos.  Taking a break in England, in between France and Italy was a good idea. My Italian is better because of it. The temptation to start speaking French, Spanish or English is still there, but for the most part, I have remembered my lines o.k.

Dinner awaits !

I.C.

      Back in London at my usual hotel. It is ironic that although they are charging me the highest room rate ever, they have given me the smallest room ever; not much bigger than the bed. But since I knew that I would be going to Bath for the whole day today, a small room would be just fine.  So, last night I experienced pain from an apparent muscle strain in my right upper chest. I went to bed early so that I could get up at 6am today. The muscle pain got worse, making it difficult to get comfortable enough to sleep. At 3:30 am I knew that the trip to Bath would have to be canceled. For the rest of the night I listened to what sounded like a person rummaging through a dumpster below my window. Someone even put there key in my door and tried to get in. At least there was a burglar chain on the door. At 8 am I called the tour company and told them that I couldn’t make it.  At 9 am I decided to go eat breakfast downstairs, without coffee, and attempt to get more rest afterward.  This was a wonderful opportunity to exercise attention and intention without the benefit of proper rest. I walked downstairs and succesfully ate breakfast and even enacted a cheerful attitude despite the fact that the muscle pain was so bad that I did not have full use of my right arm.  A successful job for the day !

     Then it was time for me to go back to my room and rest some more. I put my key into the lock of room 111 and the key wouldn’t turn. This lock has always been hard to turn. I then heard noises inside the room. Could the housekeeper be in there with the door locked ?  The door then opened and a young woman peeked out at me. I said, ” Hello. I’m mister Holliman in room 111.”  I showed her my room key. She then showed me her room key which had 111 written on it. She then exited the room and started walking toward the elevator, but stopped at the next room down and started speaking in a European language.  I walked over there and saw 111 written on the door next door !  I walked back to her room and looked at her room number which was roman numeral 3 (III.)  I apologized to her with utter humility.  My attempts to get back to sleep after this incident were futile.  So, after my successful job for the day, my attention slipped and got me into an uncomfortable social situation. But in all fairness, the hotel did put room 111 right next to room III, and I have to  give some of the blame to them.

      I am now going to take a walk around town and maintain my attention long enough to make it back safely  for another nap. I hope this muscle pain gets better before tomorrow. I have to tube down to victoria station  and catch an express train to Gatwick. My suitcase is approaching the 50 pound weight limit and I will need the stamina to carry it up a few flights of stairs. I have found that shrugging my right shoulder helps to align whatever is mis-aligned here.

Wish me luck,

I.C.

8:38 pm    I safely returned from my walk despite my lapses of attention. I then napped and read another chapter of Aldous Huxley’s book, ” The Perennial Philosophy.” So for those of you wondering about the worthiness of struggling with your lower selves, enjoy this excerpt from page 141 of this book from the year 1945 :

     “  Man finds himself in a chronic civil war between egotism and dawning spirituality. The wearisome condition of humanity is the indispensable prerequisite of enlightenment and deliverance. Man must live in time in order to be able to advance into eternity, no longer in the animal , but on the spiritual level. He must be conscious of himself as a seperate ego in order to be able consciously to transcend seperate self-hood. He must do battle with the lower self in order that he may become identified with that higher Self within him, which is akin to the divine Not -Self. Finally, he must make use of his cleverness in order to pass beyond cleverness to the immediate, unitive knowledge of the divine ground. ”

       Not bad for 1945, huh !

       Last night, I saw the controversial movie ‘ Death of a President’ on BBC channel 4. It was better than I expected it to be. I don’t want to ruin it for you because this movie may make it to the states one day. I assume that this was made by British filmmakers, because it has a different take on the motivations of different people in the film; different from my beliefs about people, that is. For instance, the actor playing one of the F.B.I. agents in the film refers to the protesters as ‘anarchists.’  Although there may be a few anarchists among protestors in America, the people that I know who protest en-masse like that are leftists; not anarchists. The characters in the film who are suspected assassins are all portrayed as people who hate conservatism. My belief is that assassins have the same personality type as the people who run for public office; people with an overpowering need for publicity, adulation and attention. The assassins of this world do not have the skills necessary to become politicians and they resort to stealing the politicians glory away from them by killing them and getting their own name in the history books in that destructive manner. The suspected assassins in this movie do not fit that profile.

     I am conflicted on whether this movie should ever be shown in the United States. There are too many copycat killers in America that might get inspired to try something like this. There are too many people in the world that lose the distinction between t.v. and reality, who might be influenced by this movie.

      On a lighter note, on the afternoon before I flew from Atlanta to London, I saw the new John Lennon documentary. It basically shows his television appearances at the time of his court case. The only dissappointment is that they don’t show the music that he and Yoko played on the Mike Douglas show back around 1970. He and Yoko co-hosted that show for one full week with special guests Abbie Hoffman, Bobby Seal and others. I saw one of those episodes live when they happened because I was home sick from school one day. Frankly, at that time, I was not that interested in John, but as I was lying on the couch sick, it was the best thing that I could find to watch. I remember that John and Yoko played live with a backup band that was not the Plastic Ono Band. I wish that the film maker had shown that because now I would really enjoy listening to some of those performances.

Tomorrow, Bath,

I.C.

Today, I took a double decker bus tour of Cardiff. Cardiff is a modern city. The architects of the new buildings design them so as to be works of modern art as well as functional office buildings and housing complexes. These structures are for the most part on the outer edges of the old original city. This city tries really hard to be progressive and it really seems like it would be a nice place to live. It is only a two hour train ride from London.
I still feel a little trepidation about oneday going to the small villages that my ancestors are from. The people here who are from the country have a really strong accent that I am still unable to decipher. That plus the lack of easy transportation to these places could make for an unpleasant travel expereince. We will see how brave I feel about this next year.
Tomorrow I head back east.
I.C.

The soil here is grey in color, hence the houses and buildings are usually made of grey bricks. The people are quite friendly and seemed to be amused by Americans. Cardiff is a cosmopolitan city with a few people from exotic cultures living and visiting here. Prices are less expensive than London, which is nice.
The Park Plaza Hotel is the best hotel that I have ever stayed in, and I am a good judge of hotels. The theme of the hotel is ultra modern, with modern furniture and bathroom facilities. There is even an internet appiance hooked up to the tv. There are modern art instalations in the hotel hallways, every twenty feet or so. Ironically, this four star hotel only costs 90 quid a night; the same price as my flea bag hotel in London which did not even deliver an important message to me from the vice president of the Bank of Upson in Thomaston, Georgia !
Grrrr !!!! The staff here is as professional as an American hotel.
Today I toured Cardiff Castle and the Welsh National Museum.
Having Fun,
I.C.