What is Occupy Wall Street? And other social media DOHs #ows

What is Occupy Wall Street? 

by Stan Faryna

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Elvis Presley, Amazing Grace

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Often, I do not spell out the social media lesson. I treat my blog posts that do illuminate social media DOHs as parables. The parable here is especially elusive and I allow it to remain so. Because we must accustom ourselves to the reality that the heart will know things long before the mind can comprehend.

Some of you may know that I have recently made several comments on Bruce Sallan’s blog post, The Value of Money and Occupy Wall Street, and to the comments there. However, the most important of those comments, perhaps, is the one I publish here. I understand that it reproduces poorly here out of context – at least at it’s start. Because I begin my comment by addressing a comment that attempts to analyze the OWS movement according to Martin Luther King, Jr.’s philosophy on civil disobedience and non-violent protest.

At the end of my long comment, I answer the question, what is Occupy Wall Street about.

I may be wrong. And I may be mistaken about many things. It is my intuitional opinion and it being an opinion and an intuition, it is neither necessarily right, wrong, worthwhile, nor useless. It just is.

You be the judge of whether or not my opinion speaks loudly to your heart or not. Because you alone are responsible for what you accept into your heart as a compelling instance of the beautiful, the good, and the true.

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Happy 42 to me! And other social media DOHs.

Happy 42 to me!

by Stan Faryna

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Rush, Time Stand Still

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This 22nd is my birthday. I’ll be 42. My heart trembles – but for no good or bad reason.

An Untitled Novel About the Road of Hope: Chapter 1.7

Chapter 1.7.1

[ Chapter 1.1 is here. ]

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John paid the daily pass at the entrance of Cismigiu Park next to the Cretulescu palace. Hachi was pulling at the leash – he needed to do some business.

They walked down the steps to the swan and duck pond. Looking around, John didn’t see any park guards, so he let Hachi off leash. Hachi stopped to bark at a flock of black swans making a commotion. Then he ran past the long line for the spring and disappeared.

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“K- Message to Steve. Dad said that he’d love to do the speaking engagement. You know my account. Catch you laterz.”

“Ok. Sending message to Steve.”

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“Incoming call from Zach…”

“Unc!”

John heard a commotion on the other side of the call. It sounded like cows, chickens and pigs.

The Scourge of Inexorable Corruption 1.4

You can read the previous post in this multi-post commentary here.

Fight On!

What we all want is a better world. A better life. Isn’t that what we really believe Democracy and Freedom is all about?!

Such democracy is not something we can purchase at a store – online or offline. It’s not a one time, one click purchase. No government can deliver on that. For each of us, it is a life-long commitment to demanding it from each other -demanding the things that matter most. And not just demanding those things – but also giving them.

moby and me: Easter Pilgrimage To Bucovina (part two)

If you missed part one of my Easter Pilgrimage To Bucovina, go here. Part two follows herein.

moby writes:

“oh, we’ve also put up the new album [Last Night] in its entirety on my myspace page (and it might be elsewhere on myspace, i’m not sure).”

Hear Last Night here (warning: product may contain peanuts, based on Schrödinger’s paradoxical thought experiments using quantum superposition).

Thanks, moby. Have a great weekend in Miami!

BTW, I think removing the forums was a great idea. Don’t cave to the mob of angry trolls. Comments to your journal should be sufficient to keep your website personalized and almost Web 2.0ish.

Below, a little background music: moby, Whispering Wind:

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St. Mary’s Church in Cacica

In a small Romanian village, I stood in an old church in the freezing cold. I stood shoulder to shoulder with the villagers. They were strangers to me. These people spoke another language, they worried about things which I did not worry about, and given the opportunity on any other occasion – most of them would be trying to sell me a square meter in their village for a preposterous amount – like nothing less than a million dollars.

Maybe, I exaggerate. But not by much. Been there. Done that.

And, yet, here we were in the same place and time, contemporaries, doing the same thing and not trying to get the better of each other. We were expressing by our very presence in that church, a desire (more or less) to be involved in something bigger than ourselves, bigger than our worries and everyday concerns, and bigger than our differences and our personal self-interest.

Standing there, I felt a strange community with these strangers as I reflected on the resurrection of Christ and anticipated a hot bowl of sour soup.