April 7, 1997
Hello Carl,
I like reading the various
correspondence you participate in with the assorted personalities
you have become familiar with through your past and present
endeavors. I am pleased that you share some of this with
me. I am especially grateful to you for remembering Brian
during his present sufferings at the hands of the very cruel and
heartless bureaucratic functionaries who act under a pretense of
justice. Each time he is moved we have to go through the
charade of attaining warden approval before we can write to each
other. I did receive word concerning his well-being through
the convict grapevine. His cell-partner at Terre Haute used
to be here at Lewisburg and still has a co-defendant here that he
writes to. He let me know that, in spite of the draconian
treatment and living conditions which they must endure, he is
still maintaining his herculean bravery and his blessed
disposition.
Pass on my regards to Cindy.
I remember Jake as such a young boy during the Arkansas
adventure. He's probably a teenager by now. It's nice
that you and your father can still converse honestly about life's
dilemmas. I know the frustration that you confront when he
suggests these dead societal programs as a possible solution for
your susceptibility to the trauma that besets you. I'm sure
he is genuinely concerned for your welfare and prescribes his
remedies based on the limits of his knowledge in those
realms. I am confident that you will exercise your own
formidable willpower and finally subdue your remaining spiritual
enemies at the moment and at the time that you deem to be ready
to do it. I know
that this is possible and, really, the only scenario that
works. You are far too cognizant of your own capabilities
in this conflict not to determine this inevitability when you are
ready to do so. You will always have my support because my
empathy is real and because I admire what I preceive to be a very
unselfish motivation from you. I also very much love your
honesty of perception and your simple ability to subtly chastise
some of the quasi-lore that continues to maintain a hypnotic
headlock on many of our dear old friends, our spiritual siblings.
Please allow me to make one more
short attempt to explain my apparent vehemence with regard to the
carnage of the Coptic experience, particularly my focus on the
Keith-Wally diadem. I do not, now would I, deny my own
responsibility and lack of courage in failing to maintain the
perfection of humility which I both witnessed and tasted of
myself from Ivy. My only hope and the basis of my
motivation is that the sisters and the brothers will acknowledge
the evil that managed to overcome us personally and collectively
during that era. We are the mistresses and the ministers of
a ganja civilization and consciousness which was resurrected in
Ivy and quickened each of us in an unique and holy manner.
Because we allowed Keith to direct the innocent enthusiasm of our
awakening into a commercial venture that only reburdened us with
the filthy garmets or lucre which we had so joyously cast off at
our initial advent, we ended up condemning one another because of
a variety of ganja-smuggling related offenses, the foolish
rubbish of a carnal mind. When we condemned, or allowed to
be condemned, any of our beloved kindred minds, we inadvertently
condemned ourselves and our consciousness of what it pure and
what is holy became dull, morbid, insensitive. As long as
someone refuses to show mercy, denies forgiveness, ceases to
share understanding, then those same vital nutrients of our
spiritual existence are no longer available for our own
sustenance in the Holy City of Mt. Zion where perfect
love and friendship does reign,
through all eternity.
I have made no
accusations against Keith or Wally. I have only stated
events and activities which I witnessed. I have done this
in a very superficial manner and referred to situations and
cosmics in the most general terms. When the brothers and
the sisters begin to open their own books, relative to what they
have seen, done, and thought under the auspices of godliness, a
vast revelation will occur. I haven't even uncovered the
tip of the corruption iceberg. I don't even care! I
only know that it is a step that must be taken, an awareness that
must be acknowledged before we can proceed together to "a
choice and happy place, adorned with wondrous grace."
This is the reason, primarily, I am only concerned with dumping
my own corruption, the likes of which seems to engender revulsion
of me from the time of the "Adventures in Arkansas"
until now among many of my contemporary sojourners on this
odyssey toward the perfect body of the Messiah, which is
US. There is no other.
Obviously, to me at least, a
movement is occurring. I would relate many anecdotes which
would lend, possibly, a semblance of credibility to this
reconciliation of the temporarily estranged members of the body
of Christ, but I am wary of further offending anyone by
mentioning them in some context that may be interpreted by them
as something less than flattering. Eventually, each one
will blab their own story with a fervor previously unknown.
I love a good story. The Bible was only part of the
story. Remember, "not half of that wonderful story, to
mortals has ever been told." The really good stuff is
yet to come. Only a free spirit can declare that story with
a boldness and confidence that results from a good bath in the
blood of the Lamb. Howie wasn't such a bad guy after
all. I know
that he loved the sisters and the brothers.
When you say "something has to
change," you have spoken a truth. We, the sisters and
the brothers, must make that final transformation to the
divine. I love it and I love you all,
Jim