Philo Sophia

If what you tell me about wisdom is that it should be sought and loved, sure OK fine. And that those who seek and love wisdom are the best of people (aristos), and they should be given power (aristos + kratos = ideal state), well OK maybe. So, Plato/Aristotle — fine maybe. The Greek play writers had a lot more to say — as did Shakespeare. The first person to talk straight and serious about human existence was Lucretius. Omar Khayyam was a scholar who studied Lucretius. His Rubaiyat poem is a serious comment on mankind’s lot as mortal thinking beings. After Omar came the modern existentialists among them Sartre, and Heidegger. Poets like TS Eliot took up the issue of human existence, and Bob Dylan did as well and the Beatles, and Lawrence Ferlinghetti and some Canadian songwriters.

I started out as a Poetry reader, at a time when most of my audience was totally familiar with the poems I recited. I had a black turtleneck shirt, and they put a narrow spotlight just on my face. My readings were quiet, but passionate. I did know what the poets were trying to say. I did know how to bring that to the minds of my audience. I got repeat people often. And in my basket they put quarters, half dollars and some dollar bills. I lived on Washington Square North in a cold water 5 story walk up. I shared the apartment with an artist who wanted to be paid in tubes of paint. The earth colors were cheap. But the cadmium colors (red, orange, yellow, green, blue — were up to $4.00 per tube. I performed fri, sat and sun, 3 sets each day, so 9 sets per week had to get my rent money. In those days, there was no decent food in Greenwich Village. On 82nd street and and Park I got hot meals at the Metropolitan Museum of Art for $1.50. I never read poems as a professional after that. I would be a good editor now if I got such a job. I am able to know what a writer is seeking to say. My book on Omar Khayyam is my only one on poetry and its on Amazon.com While at Le Rosey I learned chemistry and physics. But at Trinity-Pawling I learned poetry. My teacher took a first at the University of Wales. He knew a lot about meaning in poems. One of my other teachers was the EST guy (Werner Earhardt) he spent years making sure I “got it”. I also learned a lot in Delta Force. About not being trapped, and about killing the foe.

Now I want to be an editor. I need shelter that is safe, secure, and long term. I can take care of myself. I just need a place to be. I would trade my work for that. I would be able to edit a dozen books per year. I know things. And words. And how to convey meaning, if it really is there, and precisely intended. So, when books went out the window my library and job prospects became devoid of value. I have no apps for Smartphones. No cartoons. No wizzy dizzy windows with funny faces. Like the Hope Diamond, the world left me behind. Things go forward, in their special Zombie Blank Mind Backwards sort of way. Once there was something, now there is nullity, with wizzy apps, and cartoon faces for Zombies to adore. I worked for 4 Presidents, on their Transition teams. I advised them too. My first was Nixon. I was part of the Victory 72 Campaign. I worked on Middle East matters for GW Bush. I served in the Navy as a JAG at Diego Garcia, and in Oman East Africa. I worked as counsel to a SEAL team at Subic Bay. I got work for them. My boss (Admiral) did not want to know what he did not need to know. He expected his JAG to solve problems not to bring problems. So, I made some Huks not be so alive. One dog but no wives on base got killed by Katyusha missiles being fired over the fence. In DC, I solved a big problem for CRUITCOM, and got decorated for that. Now there was a spot on my floor so I am in danger of being expelled into the freezing cold and dying of exposure. Karma was a lovely idea, but just an idea. It’s not a real thing. If I could be an editor in exchange for a secure place to live, I would reward the provider with all I have (patents, copyrights, trademarks, valuable rare books, editing labor).