Fantastic States of Mind ~ The Amazing Raul Midón

[Special thanks to my ET-human hybrid brother Heiko Niedermeyer for introducing me to this phenomenal musical talent. Raul Midón inspires me so much I just have to repost this again for those who missed it the first time around. Last posted 6 October 2013. Reposted 26 June 2018]

TIGER ISLE ~ A GOVERNMENT OF THIEVES (BOOK REVIEW)

“If religion is the opiate of the masses, as it pretty much is in most of Asia and the Middle East, then Tiger Isle was the drug capital of the world. It did not help that most Tigerists lived in a state of denial, in particular about their religion.”

First-time novelist E.S. Shankar: encyclopedic erudition

E.S. Shankar is an erudite, articulate, Renaissance Man of multitudinous facets. A UK-trained accountant and management consultant by profession, Shankar also maintains a satirical blog called Donplaypuks where he lampoons local politics with a generous dollop of schoolboy humor laced with sagacious insight.

Recently he published his first novel, Tiger Isle, A Government of Thieves – a highly engaging 380-page study of the evils of kakistocracy (defined as “governance by a clique representing the worst elements of society, from the Greek, kakos, meaning foul, or filthy”). I don’t know if he has found a local distributor yet but the book can be easily ordered online. I can assure you, nobody will begrudge Shankar the $13.49 price tag, considering the massive amount of brilliance and sheer hard work the man has invested in this epic read, replete with evil machinations, murder, sex, and apocalyptic mayhem.

Shankar’s spicy fiction is based on depressing facts anyone who has been monitoring Malaysia’s political milieu since 1969 will be familiar with: the bureaucratic apartheid created by artificially imposed racial and religious boundaries; the boundless avarice and power lust of a privileged coterie that wields a deadly stranglehold on the national psyche through absolute control of the mass media; the audacious and systematic plunder of a nation’s wealth and the methodical hijacking of its destiny for private gain and ego gratification.

Indeed, while the events and characters depicted in Tiger Isle appear to be broadly inspired by actual events and characters in Malaysia, the scenario is easily modified to fit any post-colonial Southeast Asian nation (indeed, dissemblance and hypocrisy are skills necessary to establishing and maintaining political power anywhere on Earth). As such, Shankar’s lovingly crafted debut novel sheds valuable light on the nature and internal workings of corruption, hubris and megalomaniacal delusions of grandeur – and deserves to be prescribed as supplementary reading in any meaningful political science curriculum.

It’s no mean feat to construct a parallel universe populated by doppelgängers of clearly recognizable personalities - and yet allow the characters sufficient autonomy to generate the tension and drama necessary to animate this fictional domain called Pulipore, or Tiger Isle. There is enough narrative momentum to keep the reader turning pages – although one requires a photographic memory to keep track of unwieldy names like Rekha Krishnasamy Roshan Prasad, Adhi Sri Dr Bhairav Oak Broad Leaf Sivan, Kapalin Blowfish Black Panther Chandran, Maitreya Blue Dolphin Suryan, and Sri Sanatkumar Mutthiah Muralidharan. Those in the know will smile at the inclusion of a few “ascended masters” in the colorful cast of characters.

Not only are the names extended, Shankar gleefully provides genealogies for a few of them, going back several generations – in the process adding a wealth of side commentary on the fascinating diversity of cultures to be found in the region. Place names like Pulijayam, Chandrapore, Shaktipore and Suryapore evoke a subcontinental aroma – hinting at the lingering influence of ancient civilizations like the Srivijaya and Majapahit Empires.

With an accountant’s eye for detail, Shankar delves into a morass of financial shenanigans conducted under the corrupt aegis of UNTA (United National Tigerists Association). Indeed, one might conclude that Shankar is merely making it all up - were it not for the fact that most Malaysians are already aware – thanks to the internet - of the endless list of dubious deals signed behind closed doors and labeled Official Secrets.

I couldn’t help but smile wryly at the irony of it all. Whenever Shankar relishes his role as novelist and puts effort into fleshing out his fictional characters, he succeeds in giving his narrative a measure of realism; however, his intimately reconstructed accounts of high-level wheeling and dealing come across as pure fiction because their outrageousness simply boggles the mind. We shudder at the realization that Shankar didn’t have to invent anything – merely switch a few acronyms and names around.

And, just as happens in real life, we are confounded by a plethora of acronyms: PACC (Pulipore Anti-Corruption Council), CCCP (Chandrapore City Center Plaza), PPC (Pulipetrol Corporation), PSA (Patriot and Security Act), PSB (Police Special Branch), and PITS (Pulipore Information Technology Service) – so much so the reader is at times compelled to refer to the acronym list on page 382.

As a writer, E.S. Shankar occasionally suffers from what may be called “the fisheye lens” syndrome – in effect, his omniscience and encyclopedic knowledge compel him to throw in too many asides and insider jokes. This slows the pace down – but only minimally. On the whole I was impressed by Shankar’s fluid syntax and flashes of literary virtuosity, for instance, when he begins a chapter with a killer line like: “The economic picture was pretty from far, but actually far from pretty.”

The story acquires a hint of Ian Fleming towards the end, when Shankar conspires to put all the biggest crooks of Tiger Isle together on board a private jet – and then leaves them at the mercy of seven female amateur ninjas and a couple of renegade pilots. Regime change through the ballot box is simply too banal and boring, I suppose. Or too unlikely. Or perhaps the eternal child in E.S. Shankar just felt like giving the plot a tiny twist of Quentin Tarantino.

Regrettably, Shankar’s magnificent effort will not qualify for the epithet “The Great Malaysian Novel” – simply because it’s all about Tiger Isle, heh heh, not Malaysia.

GOOD NEWS! Shankar has found a local publisher, Gerak Budaya, and Tiger Isle ~ A Government of Thieves will be officially launched at the Royal Selangor Club at 7PM on 20 November 2012.

[First posted 28 September 2012. Reposted 23 November 2014, 28 May 2015, 23 June 2017 & 23 June 2020]

KEMBALI KE BALI ~ RETURN TO BALI (reprise)

Finally I did it! I returned to the magickal Island of Bali after an absence of 26 years. It was only 5 days this time. In 1981 I was there for 5 weeks, and each day was a Technicolor dream overflowing with adventure, romance, and delicious sensations. I'm gathering my thoughts and feelings so I can write in greater detail about the invigoration and inspiration I felt - but, meanwhile, I'll share some photos I took with my dinky digital camera (a Sony Cybershot, believe it or not!)...

In Bali you'll always find a majestic old tree beside every temple. This magnificent green sanctuary that had shaped itself into a perfect archway was spotted on my way to Ubud, just outside Batubulan (what a romantic name, Moonstone!).

On both sides of the road leading to Ubud you'll find the finest artisans in Asia, a rich legacy of the Majapahit Empire which produced stonemasons comparable to those that built Angkor Wat, Khajuraho, and Tiahuanaco.

A colossal statue, presumably of Rama, greets every visitor to Ubud

Painters, painters everywhere in Ubud; modern as well as traditional

Mask-makers too!

Member of the Balinese Royal Household at the Royal Temple in Ubud

Five minutes outside the bustling tourist hub
that Ubud has become, soothing sounds of running water
and ducks romping in lush paddy-fields

Ceremonial cow presides over ritual cremation of Balinese royalty

Women in Bentuyong, near Ubud, so alike the Orang Asli among whom I live

Hokkien chef in Ubud with two of his Balinese angel waitresses

Daily offerings to the Unseen Beings are an integral part of Balinese culture

PART TWO

[Originally published 12 September 2007. Reposted 4 July 2013]

Close encounters with the remarkable Buckminster Fuller (repost)

[Adapted from a letter to Thomas Schöllhammer, dated 28 February 1986. Mr Schöllhammer, then a student of ‘American Culture’ at Munich University, was writing a dissertation on Buckminster Fuller and had requested a full account of my personal contact with ‘Grandpa’ Bucky.]

I’m not sure how I first heard of R. Buckminster Fuller.

But the first time I saw him was in Kuala Lumpur in 1973 when he gave a talk at the University of Malaya. He was extolling the virtues of non-specialization, which was to me an interesting change from the conventional Jack-of-all-trades doctrine that you can achieve nothing unless you concentrate on a very tiny area. In later life Bucky (as he liked being called) would describe himself as a Comprehensivist.

I was impressed by his awareness of 4-dimensional processes – the only way apparent contradictions can be reconciled and appreciated. It was the first time I had heard the word SYNERGY. He also expressed his belief in “syntropy” – the opposite of entropy. Whereas most scientists speak of “negative entropy” Bucky used the more pro-active term, syntropy: the antidote to pessimism (“things fall apart,” “the heat death of the universe,” “Murphy’s Law,” and so on).

SYNTROPY he defined as Scenario Universe’s counter-tendency towards greater coherence and integrity: the centripetal (returning to Source) counterforce to centrifugal “expanding Universe” theories. Bucky was a visionary who could sense transcendental Meaning and Higher Order beyond the apparent disorder and randomness of physical phenomena. I had no chance to talk with him, as he was hurried off to some official tea party immediately after the lecture.

Fuller poses with his Dymaxion car, circa 1933

In 1975 Bucky was invited to an international conference on “Malaysia in the Year 2000” organized by the Syed Kechik Foundation. Herman Kahn of the Hudson Institute (a research team entrusted with developing futurist ‘scenarios’ for the Pentagon, among other corporate interests in the U.S.) was also there; and so was Prof. Robert Jungk, the famous German sociologist-historian. I managed to get myself invited to the conference and that’s how I finally got to meet Bucky.

U.S. Pavilion at Expo 1967 designed by Buckminster Fuller

He was very approachable, very warm and saintly, radiating a very loving aura – in sharp contrast to Herman Kahn who was hugely aloof and sneering, radiating little warmth. In the two men you could see the polarities of intellectual vision. Kahn was convinced that the planet was in deep trouble and that Malthusian economics dictated Darwinian survival strategies (e.g., he advocated and defended America’s policy of exporting pollution to Third World countries). Fuller, on the other hand, was convinced that Universe is sentient, that Cosmic Intelligence always prevails, and that cooperation, not competition, was the key to real progress. Mentally I called Herman “Fat Hope” and Bucky “Slim Chance.”

Within hours I had decided Bucky would make the ideal grandfather. So when I found him sitting one row behind me at one of the talks, I scribbled my request on a sheaf of conference notes and handed it to him: “Do I have your permission to adopt you as my grandfather?”

Bucky scrawled an unhesitating response: “Indeed you do! It gives me great joy and an increase of responsibility.”

This simple act proved to me that Bucky represented the noblest spirit of humanity, the archetypal Community Elder who has grown beyond tribal concerns and was in effect one of the True Sages of Planet Earth. Such beings are not universally recognized under the military-industrial power structure – but I’m sure that as the Aquarian Age proceeds, they will come into their own.

The general atmosphere at the 1975 conference was pretty much a triumph of Optimism over Pessimism, of human over technocratic values.

Herman Kahn (pictured left) was loudly and repeatedly booed during his address in which he defended the hard-line “realist” approach to problem-solving (that whole pragmatic worldview founded on Original Sin, the contrariness and imperfectibility of Human Nature, and the overall untrustworthiness of the Cosmos; the scientific-materialist paradigm wherein “God” is essentially an abstraction to which political expediency demands payment of lip service, but in private nobody really gives a hoot about “moral authority” or any sense of ethics governing human existence; the Bottom Line being, of course, Economics).

In contrast, Bucky’s talk was very warmly received. Though a fair portion of the audience seemed to have difficulty following his non-linear, multidimensional way of thinking and speaking, Bucky was able to transmit a clear and direct feeling of genuine goodwill and high intelligence. He didn’t refer to notes and could have gone on for hours if there hadn’t been a time limit. I can recall only fragments of what he said, but those few fragments remain vividly imprinted in my mind:


Bucky speculated on the ascendancy of Muscle Power during a particular phase of our prehistory when kings and chiefs were chosen from the warrior caste and Power was equated with the weight of a man’s weapon. Cerebral individuals were given subordinate rôles as consultants, magicians, healers, and comedians. (“Put this little guy on the payroll, he tells funny jokes.”) These thoughts were neither new nor radical to me as I had covered the same contemplative ground in the course of my personal musings – but it was the first public utterance of these ideas I had encountered, and it served to reaffirm the validity of my own views on social hierarchies and power elites.

Buckminster Fuller's trademark geodesic dome

Bucky came up with another important analogy: that of the honey bee colony which serves a greater design (the propagation of plant species) without actually being aware of its nature-ordained function. To the bee, the whole purpose of existence is simply the gathering of nectar and the defence of its own hive until the next generation is ready to take over the endless cycle.

Dymaxion House (prototype revealed in 1929; redesigned in 1945)

This metaphor (perfectly illustrating precessional effects) was very mind-opening and allowed me to view even the multinational corporations in a more generous light: like the honey bees, most of them haven’t attained the 4-dimensional awareness of their higher function within the planet’s ecology. But, as Bucky pointed out, these Great Pirates (his name for the fortune-hunting, empire-building colonizers who have shaped the course of recent centuries) produced global navigation maps and introduced the concept of a continent- and culture-bridging spherical world through purely selfish, greedy motives. Bucky’s graphic thought processes approach a workable solution for all conflicting tendencies in human and animal behavior. For me, Bucky had successfully performed the alchemical marriage of Heaven and Hell, extending his mentations beyond simplistic “good” and “evil” to an enlightened state of dynamic equilibrium, of reintegration and reciprocity.

Bucky with his wife Anne Hewlitt and their daughter Allegra, circa 1927

Yes, Bucky was indeed a 20th-century Buddha with access to the harmonic overtones of Higher Consciousness. No wonder some "experts" are of the opinion that Fuller went “kind of nuts in his later life.” Bucky’s concepts had transformed into metaconcepts: to comprehend Whole Systems you need to exercise your mind in ever increasing spheres of interest. No way any die-hard academic specialist could ever publicly endorse Bucky’s work. It’s so much easier to protect our own petty interests by playing down or not noticing other people’s greatness.

Allegra Fuller Snyder, Bucky and Anne's only surviving child, visits the Eden Project 
in September 2009

Another very important thing Bucky pointed out was that no true scientist will ever describe anything as a “mistake.” In experimental procedure, all results lead to deeper understanding, whether “positive,” “negative,” or “ambivalent.” I view Bucky as a philosopher-guru using mathematical and technological terminology to express his mystical insights. In this respect he was often misunderstood and dismissed (and, to a certain extent, still is) by mainstream scholars. He was fond of describing himself as a “maverick” – the ox that refuses to run with the herd. In problem-solving it’s often the maverick idea that proves most valuable.

Buckminsterfullerene aka Buckyball - the C60 carbon molecule discovered in 1985

Most important to me was the fact that Bucky Fuller had devoted his life to developing a syntax and a geometrically achievable model of Utopia: a vision I have explored in mystical terms, but which I've found difficult to articulate “objectively.”

Bucky’s work with the miraculous behavior of Whole Systems, Synergetics, Syntropy, Reciprocity, Regenerative Intertransformations, Integrity, and Omnidimensionality put everything mystics had always spoken of in poetic code into clear, technical focus – the same way G.I. Gurdjieff and John C. Lilly made epistemology accessible to empirical investigation. However, don’t take my word for it – read Bucky’s Utopia or Oblivion (Pelican Books, 1968)!

The conference on “Malaysia in the Year 2000” lasted only five days – but I had the chance to have more contact with Bucky between sessions and at meals. The remarkable thing is that there was never much casual talk at these encounters: it was more like a reunion of intimate friends. He would perform childlike exercises on paper napkins, demonstrating how EVOLution derives from EVE and how EVOL is really LOVE spelt backwards.

I wrote a long letter elaborating my ideas on transport systems (from solar buggies to antimatter propulsion to mantra-powered lightships) and handed it to Bucky on the second day of the conference. When we met the next day he gave me a radiant smile and a warm handshake, saying: “It was the best letter I’ve ever received, I was absolutely delighted!”

He asked if I was interested in reading a new poem he’d drafted, something called Complexion 1975. He had only the original copy, so I was required to read it all at one sitting in his hotel room while he very kindly ordered me a glass of milk (perhaps I still looked like a baby to him). Since then I’ve read the published version of Complexion, but it didn’t read like the same document I saw in Bucky’s room. My memory informs me that the original draft was more science-fictionish – written from an extraterrestrial viewpoint. I had the feeling that Bucky was eager to communicate some earthshaking secret – but he apparently changed his mind and all he said to me before we left the room was: “Don’t worry about anything. It’s 99.9 per cent metaphysical!”

I did feel a pervasive sense of “unreality” – as though the view outside his hotel room was a holographic projection. I looked at him for further clarification and he kept smiling beatifically and insisting that the physical reality around us was such a minute section of the electromagnetic spectrum as to be actually quite insignificant.

Around this time, a half-mile or so away, the Japanese Red Army (a leftwing terrorist group) was getting ready to take over the AIA building on Ampang Road and hold 50 people hostage for several days. Mercifully, it all ended without bloodshed soon after the conference. A mere background detail to this account.

I wrote Bucky a few times after that. He would reply personally or get his secretary to send me his latest itinerary. Which is how I got wind of his brief visit to Kuala Lumpur in 1976. I met him at the airport with a gift of his favorite oolong tea and he suggested that I accompany his small entourage to the Hotel Equatorial for dinner.

Our conversation was mainly about John C. Lilly (right) - the multidisciplinary scientist best known for pioneering dolphin intelligence research and the sensory-deprivation tank. Bucky mentioned that he once saved Lilly’s life; he felt that Lilly was far too reckless, doing dangerous things to himself; but he agreed that the man was truly brilliant, if somewhat erratic. Then Bucky handed me some advice that has served me well over the decades:

“Just do what you feel you must do. Do it the best you can and trust that you’ll be looked after. Believe me, it’s true. I’m an old man, and I’m not in the habit of giving irresponsible advice.”

Six months later I quit my job in an advertising agency and have been gainfully unemployed since.

On October 12th 1979, I saw R. Buckminster Fuller for the last time. I’d written to his secretary earlier, saying I’d be passing through Philadelphia and asking if I could visit. The response was swift and warm. I found Bucky in his Market Street office, older and feebler but still as sensitive as ever.

Bucky's 1946 Dymaxion Map showing the relationship of land and ocean areas

The moment he laid eyes on me he said: “I hope you don’t succumb to disappointment. These things take time. Right now we can only try to cushion the impact.” I believe he was referring to my hopes (and his) that Utopian values would spread universally and rapidly, rendering the apocalyptic option unnecessary. This revealed Bucky’s more human dimensions, I felt. He seemed to be expressing his own sense of frustration that the world wasn’t listening to him; that his ideas were still being dismissed as “over-idealistic” or even “crank.” But he was visibly pleased that two groups of students had produced comprehensive reports on energy and food (Energy – Earth and Everyone, edited by Medard Gabel, published by Doubleday; and Ho-Ping: FOOD, also edited by Medard Gabel on behalf of the World Game Group, and published by Doubleday).

Bucky chuckled over the fact that the UN had finally endorsed his work by adopting these encyclopedic studies as standard references. “As to be expected, they don’t seem to be leaping into action,” he lamented. “The merchants are still calling the shots.” He wanted me to have these books – but the advance copies weren’t in yet.

Bucky autographing books for me in his Market Street office in Philadelphia. 
This photo, which I printed myself, has survived three decades of floods, termite invasions,
and several changes of address.

So he wrote the titles for me on the back of an envelope and decided he couldn’t let me leave without a small stack of autographed books. While he was putting his shaky signature on the books, I took a couple of photographs of him – one of which keeps reappearing at the oddest of times from within the pages of my favorite collection of Bucky poems: And It Came To Pass – Not To Stay.

[Bucky was recalled from Spaceship Earth on 1 July 1983, just 36 hours before his wife Anne also made the transition. Herman Kahn, oddly enough, died about a week later. Let's hope being free of all that mass has given him a Fuller perspective on everything.]

SELECTED BUCKYQUOTES

ETHICS by R. Buckminster Fuller

THE FULLER PERSPECTIVE

[First posted 12 July 2013, reposted 19 June 2021]

ETHICS ~ by R. Buckminster Fuller (repost)

(12 July 1895 ~ 1 July 1983)

IN THE EVOLUTION of political economics
Of the late 20th century
There is an emerging pattern
In which yesterday's virtues
Become today's vices
And vice versa
Vices virtues.

We hope this signals the demise
Of either dollar or gun manipulated
Political puppetry's
Overwhelmment of humanity.

Throughout the past state
Of innate ignorance of the many,
The informed few
Told the uninformed many
What to do
So that the many's coordinated efforts
Could produce most effectively
The objectives of the few.

An omniwell-informed humanity
Does not need to be told
What needs to be done
Nor how to cooperate synergetically;
It does so spontaneously.

History demonstrates without exception
That successful sovereign power seizers
And successfully self-perpetuating,
Supreme physical power holders in general
Will always attempt to divide the opposition
In order to conquer them
And thereafter keep the conquered divided
To keep them conquered.

Controlling the sources
Of production and distribution
The self-advantaging power systems
Keep the conquered divided
By their uncontestable fiat
That the individual's right to live
Must be earned
To the power structure's satisfaction
By performing one of the ruling system's
Myriad of specialized functions.

The top-gun, self-serving power structure
Also claims outright ownership
Of the lives of all those born
Within their sovereignly claimed
Geographical bounds
And can forfeit their citizens' lives
In their official warfaring,
Which of psychological necessity
Is always waged in terms
Of moral rectitude
While covertly protecting and fostering
Their special self-interests.

To keep the conquered
Controllably disintegrated
And fearfully dependent
"They" also foster perpetuation or increase
Of religious, ethnic, linguistic,
And skin-color differentiations
As obvious conditioned-reflex exploitabilities.

Special-interest sovereignty will always
Attempt to monopolize and control
All strategic information (intelligence),
Thus to keep the divided specializing world
Innocently controlled by its propaganda
And dependent exclusively upon its dictum.

Youth has discovered all this
And is countering with comprehensivity and synergy.
Youth will win overwhelmingly
For truth
Is eternally regenerative
In youth.

Youth's love
Embracingly integrates,
Successfully frustrates
And holds together,
Often unwittingly,
All that hate, fear, and selfishness
Attempt to disintegrate.

Copyright 1973 © R. Buckminster Fuller and Saturday Review

INTRODUCTION TO BUCKMINSTER FULLER

“For the first time in history it is now possible to take care of everybody at a higher standard of living than any have ever known. Only ten years ago the ‘more with less’ technology reached the point where this could be done. All humanity now has the option to become enduringly successful.” – R. Buckminster Fuller, 1980

This confident assertion was made in 1980 by the late R. Buckminster Fuller – inventor, architect, engineer, mathematician, poet and cosmologist. As early as 1959, Newsweek reported that Fuller predicted the conquest of poverty by the year 2000.

In 1977, almost twenty years later, the National Academy of Sciences confirmed Fuller’s prediction. Their World Food and Nutrition Study, prepared by 1,500 scientists, concluded:

“If there is the political will in this country and abroad... it should be possible to overcome the worst aspects of widespread hunger and malnutrition within one generation.”

Even with tragedies like Ethiopia and Somalia, it is becoming clear that, as Fuller predicted, we have arrived at the possibility of eliminating hunger and poverty in all the world within our lifetime.

[First posted 12 July 2013, reposted 19 June 2021 & 12 July 2023]

The FULLER Perspective (by Antares Maitreya)

Architect, mathematician, inventor, poet, lecturer and whole-systems thinker, R. Buckminster Fuller was above all a planetary visionary who passionately believed that the human race was on the brink of Utopia or Oblivion.

Best known for his geodesic domes, Dymaxion car, and his concept of synergetics, Bucky (as he preferred to be called) would have celebrated his centennial on July 12, 1995 – but, alas, he was recalled by Mission Headquarters in 1983. Meanwhile, the rest of us on Spaceship Earth continue to waver between warfare and welfare, between “killingry” and “livingry” – when we could so easily focus our attention on regaining for ourselves and for posterity a perfectly functional paradise...

WE HAVE THE WHEREWITHAL to ensure that every single human life on Spaceship Earth is a total success.

That was Buckminster Fuller’s credo and he devoted his adult life to demonstrating how integrity and intelligence must eventually triumph over fear (ignorance/insularity) and greed (scarcity conditioning).

While established “experts” with vested interests dismissed him as a maverick and a crank, Bucky focused on the Big Picture. Aided by legions of bright, earnest university students, Bucky inaugurated the World Game, wherein players unlearn their built-in prejudices, develop trust in reciprocity, and cooperatively design win-win scenarios that will give everyone access to the glorious options awaiting us.

“Forget about Us and Them,” Bucky advised. “Remember it’s all us. Universe is a plural unity.”

At the age of 32 in 1927, Bucky saw himself as a dismal failure. His building business had collapsed, he couldn’t pay the rent, and his domestic reality was in serious crisis. He decided to take his own life. Since he was such a good-for-nothing he would go jump in a lake. But first he would meditate for a few minutes and see if any viable alternative to tragedy would present itself.

Standing in silent despair at the edge of the icy lake, Bucky suddenly heard the voice of his “phantom captain” or Higher Self: “Disengage your thoughts from petty personal problems. Remember your true work on this beautiful planet.”

And so Buckminster Fuller awoke to the cosmic dimensions of his being and his real mission on Earth: to restore a Fuller Perspective (pun fully intended) to a humanity blinded by primordial fears, force of habit, and sloppy thinking.

If we now agree that the Earth isn’t flat, why do we still say the sun rises and sets? We spin in and out of the sun’s sight. The world is spherical, and the surface of all spheres is at the same time concave and convex. Nothing is a fixed asset: everything is in dynamic flux. Reality cannot be grasped: it simply slips through the spaces between your atoms, the vast dimensions within your sub-atomic consciousness. Let go of it and you become Real: for in reality you are a perfect hologram of the One and the All.

These aren’t Bucky’s words (he had a unique syntax and vocabulary which was a miracle of economy and precision, but also made his writings less than transparent to the uninitiated). However, they do provide a glimpse into his essential work in epistemology and teleology. (Pardon me? Well, er… let’s just say “epistemology” and “teleology” are analytical and synthetical approaches to understanding the general principles and patterns underlying all phenomena.)

Bucky was a practitioner of mental weight-lifting. Every day he would raise a larger and larger question for private inspection. By the time he went public with his newfound insights, Bucky was prepared to tackle issues of any apparent size and gravity, including age-old questions like: “So what do we do about human nature?”

The human being is a marvelous, self-teaching, self-correcting, self-regenerating organism, perfectly equipped for survival in any physical and/or metaphysical context. No need to “reform” humans. Instead, let’s re-design our everyday reality so that it brings out the noblest in all of us. [This is a paraphrase, not a quote!]

Having made direct contact with his “phantom captain” (a mystic might call it “Atman” or “Buddha Self” or “Christ” or “Solar Angel”), Bucky soon evolved into a latter-day Pythagoras. (I was going to say Pythagorean but - time being not quite as linear as we’re in the habit of thinking – we might well find Pythagoras on some other sphere describing his philosophy as Buckyan!) Both minds were effective “crossover zones” open to inputs from all directions and disciplines; and each found his spiritual ground in the study of “energetic-synergetic” or “sacred” geometry. Born 25 centuries apart, each arrived at the same realization that provoked Pythagoras to exclaim: “Astonishing! Everything is intelligent!”

Bucky was constantly reminding his lecture audiences that Reality (or the Electromagnetic Spectrum) was 99.99% undetectable to our senses and our measuring instruments. In other words, the world defined by our physical senses occupies less than 0.1% of our full range of options. Yet the Great Unknown is not necessarily unknowable – so long as we’re anchored in the awareness of the interactive, interconnected integrity and unity of the Whole – of which we are each an integral and intimate part, as well as a microcosmic wholeness with an incredible degree of autonomy (Free Will?)

This neo-hermetic perspective was certainly a foreshadowing of the current hologram theory, which is an essential conceptual tool for thinking beyond the third dimension.

On a pragmatic level, Bucky applied his dynamic imagination and Yankee know-how to designing alternative transport, shelter, and socioeconomic systems. Ironically, the only faction that took his work seriously was the military. All their remote installations and bases are today housed in Fuller domes – from the Antarctica to the dark side of the moon.

With the help of a growing network of dedicated young thinkers and doers, Bucky compiled comprehensive inventories of the planet’s food and energy resources and proposed workable alternatives that would make hunger and scarcity merely a bad dream of an infant humanity. With our priorities set right, poverty and injustice will quickly become subjects of purely historical interest. Each free citizen of the planet must be regarded as an invaluable crewmember of Spaceship Earth and given unlimited access to the infinite abundance and wealth which is everyone’s divine inheritance.

What Bucky foresaw was that once the basic needs of individuals have been fulfilled, they will automatically move on to the next level of needs. Therefore, by fulfilling the material needs of all humanity (and Bucky insisted that we do have the technical wherewithal to achieve this; only the ethical and political will to bring it about are lacking), we shall as a species swiftly evolve into spiritual consciousness (though Bucky generally preferred to use the term “metaphysical”).

“I was born far-sighted,” Bucky was fond of quipping, “that’s why I find it easier to think universe rather than me.”

Perhaps some of us were born near-sighted. Not to worry, if you’re one of them, you can take a vacation from Myopia (and the present Dystopia) into Buckminster Fuller’s vision of Utopia simply by following up on the selected bibliography:

 

RECOMMENDED BUCKYBOOKS

Nine Chains to the Moon (J.B. Lippincott, 1938; Doubleday, 1982)

Untitled Epic Poem on the History of Industrialization

Ideas and lntegrities

No More Secondhand God (Southern Illinois University Press, 1963)

Education Automation

Utopia or Oblivion (Pelican, 1968)

Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth (Southern Illinois University Press, 1969)

And It Came To Pass - Not To Stay (Macmillan, 1976)

Synergetics: Explorations in the Geometry of Thinking

Critical Path (St. Martin's Press, 1981)

[First published in JOURNAL ONE, April 1996. Uploaded here 19 June 2021]

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Merry Month of May That Was (Part 2)

Blue Buddha (photo: Jaap Buys)

Lumbar puncture or spinal tap

During his first night in the Hospital Putrajaya ICU a lumbar puncture had been conducted on Ahau to get a sample of his cerebrospinal fluid, so they could test for meningitis. I was glad my boy was still under heavy sedation.

Early the next morning, I looked in on Ahau to see that he was awake but groggy and confused. His hands and feet had been strapped to the bed to stop him from pulling out his intravenous drip and ventilation tube. The doctors reported that his respiration pattern was swiftly normalizing and that the tube could soon be removed. They kept him on oxygen to ease his breathing as there was a slight swelling of his throat lining caused by abrasions the previous day when he was being intubated.

Heiko & Selina Niedermeyer, master healers

By midday when Mary returned with Anoora, Ahau was strong enough to struggle against his bonds. He only calmed down if Mary kept well out of sight. 

In the afternoon four friends visited – Heiko and Selina, accompanied by Robin and Michelle. As it was past visiting hours, only two were allowed into the ICU. Robin and Michelle opted to wait in the lobby while I accompanied Heiko and Selina to the ICU where they immediately began working on him by softly singing the medicine Buddha mantra, followed by one mala of the Dorje Gotrab (composed by the great guru Padmasambhava himself).

Ahau responded positively to the soft melodious chanting. I noticed he instantly calmed down and at one point touched Selina’s hand with his head, as if to thank her. This is what I shared on facebook:

Last night, Mary Maguire had trouble sleeping (understandably) so she did the Blue Buddha meditation to calm & center herself. Suddenly she felt reconnected through the heart with Ahau, who had been adrift in the astral while his physical form lay inert under massive sedation. She visualized placing a Blue Buddha upon his head, then finally fell asleep. And this afternoon Heiko & Selina, our beloved healer friends, showed up at the hospital and chanted (more like sang) a Blue Buddha mantra by Ahau's bedside for 20 minutes. He at first struggled to get up, then he focused clear, penetrating looks at each of us (I sensed an inscrutable smile twinkling at me as tiny teardrops welled up in the corners of his intense eyes). 

We were undisturbed the whole time the soft singing/chanting went on. I closed my eyes momentarily & saw Ahau at the center of a lotus unfolding its petals in infinitely expanding ripples, spreading from the room to infinity. Later as we left the ICU, Selina told me she saw Ahau sitting totally naked with eyes closed in lotus position while a Blue Buddha in his heart emanated healing blue light in every direction & dimension. I was delighted to note that both Mary & Selina had independently conjured the Blue Buddha in their mind's eye.

Facebook played a major rôle in Ahau’s rapid recovery. While he was being attended to by medics at the KKB emergency room, I posted this status update:

A surreal & terrifying day. Ahau had fits & is now under sedation. Not your typical Sunday. Will accompany him to whichever hospital in KL he's taken. Please help visualize him back in fine form soon, thanks.

Within minutes my timeline was flooded with supportive responses from friends and strangers near and far. Indeed, facebook was the crucial link between Ahau, Mary and me - and the rest of the world. Friends immediately included Ahau in their thoughts and prayers - and many happen to be human angels and powerful healers connected to healing circles around the planet. By updating them via facebook, I was keeping them energetically linked to Ahau. 

An intubated & heavily sedated Ahau being transferred by ambulance to Selayang Hospital

This note was posted on May 27th:

On the mundane plane it has been distressing to watch helplessly as Ahau assumes the role of a trapped bird in the medical Matrix. The horror of hospitals has been magnificently mitigated by the compassion, helpfulness, competence, dedication to duty & humanity we have encountered every step of the long road from Kg Pertak to Putrajaya Hospital. He cannot comprehend why he has awoken to being strapped to a strange bed, surrounded by electronic blips, with tubes sticking out of his wrists. Whenever he senses the presence or sees a familiar being his impulse is to sit up & escape from this weird nightmare where he is utterly powerless. When he finds himself bound like a contemporary Prometheus, his heartbeat triples & he becomes enraged, Any free, unformatted spirit would react likewise to waking up on a Prison Planet!

A thoughtful Ahau contemplates life from Bed 17, Ward 4A, Hospital Putrajaya

And yet, on the transcendental planes, everything is unfolding as it should & must, The shock of witnessing the sudden & unexpected system crash of our beloved Bunyip Ahau Ben has only magnified a millionfold our love for this exasperating yet utterly adorable being & our gratitude for being his closest buddies. Within a minute of my posting word of Ahau being unwell, pure heart love began funneling in from all directions through digital portals. It was overwhelming & uplifting at the same time. Regardless of friend or stranger, humans somehow always rise to the occasion, we were poignantly reminded.

Mei Watson, wounded healer

On the afternoon of May 27th, more friends arrived at Putrajaya Hospital offering help. Mei Watson, my wounded healer buddy, came with a whole set of essential oils which she proceeded to apply on Ahau, who responded very well to her tender ministrations. Shortly afterwards, two more soul-buddies showed up: Gerald Wee and Joel Low, both regular visitors at Magick River, had come to my rescue in January 2010 while I was tied to my bed in Sungai Buloh Hospital and freed me from my bonds, thereby breaking the spell and facilitating my discharge a few days later.

Gerald Wee, master of dragon chi

Gerald Wee comes from a shamanic lineage and works with dragon energy. He simply stood near Ahau and immersed him in a pristine and primordial energy field, supporting Mei Watson’s work with essential oils. While they were there, word came that Ahau was to be transferred to a normal ward. It was heartening to see Ahau out of the Intensive Care Unit and in a more relaxed room with a view.

Mary and Anoora arrived later with Ahau’s laptop and a magazine, which considerably perked him up. But he still had no desire to eat solids and was even refusing water. At least he no longer required oxygen and his hands and feet were free, so he could be helped to the toilet, a big step towards full recovery.

My beloved rinpoche, Ahau Ben, exploring the astral while fast asleep

PART 3

The Merry Month of May That Was (Part 1)

Star Commander Lee Ahau Ben Anoor-Antares in 2004

It was Bob Dylan’s 73rd birthday. My artist-astrologer friend Melissa Lin had invited me to dinner at Rimbun Dahan where she was on a 4-month residency. Met up with a few dear friends and renewed my acquaintance with the hospitable Hijjas family. Decided to continue to Bandar Utama where some young friends were hosting an open mic session at Paradox Café. We had a jolly jam session; met up with two old friends and made a few new ones. Got home around 3:30am and, as usual, didn’t get to bed till around 6:00. Heard my Vandalusian songbird Ahau Ben chirping merrily away. The sun wasn’t even up but my only begotten son was already at his laptop, doing his YouTube routine. It was a cheerful sound to fall asleep to.

Ahau asleep on 12 October 2012

Sunday, May 25th, 2014, around 11am: rudely awoken by Mary Maguire screaming at the top of her lungs, I grabbed my sarong and rushed over next door to find Ahau on the floor, having just puked on the mat. He looked wild-eyed and frightened and his hands were like claws. Mary said she had popped in from the kitchen a minute ago to find Ahau’s eyes unfocused and his fingers rigid. Thinking it might be an epileptic fit (though he has no previous history of that) she put him into recovery position on the floor so he wouldn’t swallow his tongue and suffocate.

As I knelt down and immersed him in my energy field, Ahau vomited again and his body went into spasms. While I whispered star language in his ears, Mary picked up the phone and called 999, hands trembling. She managed to keep calm as the police operator began interrogating her with absolutely no sense of urgency instead of passing her call to the nearest ambulance service. Finally, she got through to the KKB District Hospital and they said an ambulance would be despatched. Bonzo Dog came running in and sniffed Ahau all over, nudging him with his canine nose. He seemed as concerned as both Mary and me.

Anoora just looked dazed. I got her to take my place beside Ahau and ran back to put on some clothes. There’s nothing more nerve wracking than for a parent to contemplate the possibility of losing a child. True, I view life and death differently than most people and have never been inclined to wallow in grief and misery - always opting for the most inclusive, most all-embracing, and the most uplifting perspective.

Jolly joy boy Ahau Ben

Indeed, when Ahau was only 7 a psychic friend had warned me that Ahau may not survive long past puberty; that he had come on a specific mission and when he was done he would simply leave. I deeply resented hearing that but nonetheless took on it board.

In December 2010 when my beloved canine son Roger Reginald Putra was brutally murdered by a demonically possessed Orang Asli, probably for chasing after his motorbike, I was utterly grief-stricken. Imagine how much worse it would be to lose a human offspring.

Seeing Ahau in that scary state, not knowing the cause or outcome, I was prepared for any eventuality - but decided unequivocally that I would opt for our darling son to stick around, no matter what difficulties may arise around his “disabilities” and his almost complete dependency on others. It was a pivotal moment that brought into clear focus the totality and unconditionality of my love for that very special boy.

The ambulance arrived and we had to carry the unconscious Ahau down two flight of steps in his duvet because they had no stretchers with body straps. It’s a 12-minute drive to the KKB District Hospital but that ambulance was so horribly bumpy I was compelled to mention it to the attendant who said the problem was that the Health Ministry bought goods vans and converted them - instead of ordering customized ambulances with high-grade suspensions. “We are the ones who use these vehicles every day but nobody bothered to ask our opinion,” he confided.

Mary and Anoora arrived at the Emergency Room shortly afterwards while Ahau was being stabilized by the hospital assistants. Knowing the situation was no longer in our hands, I calmed down and held the beam for those attending to Ahau who appeared on the verge of another fit. They sedated him but his body resisted it and they increased the dosage. Finally the doctor had to switch to ketamine to knock him out so they could intubate him.

A bit of an overgrown baby

I kept popping into the emergency room to see if they had finished but the procedure took a long time. Dr Sashi explained that he had problems inserting the tube down Ahau’s throat. “I’ve never seen anyone with vocal cords like his,” the young doctor said. “One in a million!”

No wonder Ahau has had difficulty with human speech and opts to emit an incredible range of birdlike or dolphinlike sounds when he isn’t speaking his own take on human languages, Gobbledygook.

The KKB District Hospital isn’t equipped to handle any but the most routine of medical situations. Dr Sashi began phoning around to see which big hospital would admit Ahau. Incredibly, every ICU bed in hospitals within 2 hours of KKB was occupied, but Ahau was sent to Selayang Hospital anyway, in the hope that a bed in the ICU would become available when he arrived.

Ahau at 2: a very cheerful baby who loved water

Another bumpy ambulance ride, though minimally better than the first, and we were at the Selayang Hospital emergency and trauma ward, where the heavily sedated Ahau was wheeled off for a CT scan. The doctors at Selayang were young and reassuringly professional. They reported that the scan showed there was a slight edema (swelling) and there were symptoms of viral infection. Three doctors in particular had friendly, helpful auras – Drs Zetti, Haris and Amar. It was the latter who accompanied Ahau and me in the ambulance along with a nurse when Putrajaya Hospital agreed to take him. By the time we arrived at the southernmost part of Selangor state it was close to 11pm.

After 48 hours in the Hospital Putrajaya ICU Ahau was transferred to Ward 4A

Mary arrived at Putrajaya Hospital with Anoora and our dear friend Soon within minutes of Ahau being wheeled into emergency prior to being sent directly to the ICU. As I was taking the first watch Anoora had packed a small knapsack for me. Amazingly she had seen fit to include my Peruvian poncho and a book I had just started reading. I must have cut a surreal figure at 3 in the morning walking about the hospital grounds in my rainbow poncho. Dr Radha who was in charge of the ICU that night had taken my phone number and assured me that no news was good news as far as Ahau was concerned. I knew he was in excellent, dedicated hands. Dr Radha herself had the sweetest face and an angelic aura. It was hard to reconcile the cold-blooded colossal bureaucratic monstrosity called Putrajaya with the warmth and humanity of everyone I had met at the hospital.

PART 2