The Boulder Pushers

(Many thanks to Diane Harvey,

  merak@sedona.net)

Joseph B. Clifford, D.C.
Say "NO!" to the development and  production genetically modified foods! Help support the growth of healthy, organic food production.
Protect our Constitution!
“No, I’m not for sainthood. I’m going to be a boulder-pusher… There’s a great black mountain. It’s human stupidity. There are people who push a boulder up the mountain. When they’ve got a few  feet up, there’s a war, or the wrong sort of revolution, and the  boulder rolls down- not to the bottom, it always manages to end a few  inches higher than when it started. So the group of people puts its  shoulders to the boulder and starts pushing again. Meanwhile, at the top of the mountain stand a few great men. Sometimes they look down and nod and say: ‘Good, the boulder-pushers are still on duty.’  But, meanwhile,  they are meditating about the nature of space, or what it will be like  when the world is full of people who don’t hate and fear and murder.” These words, spoken by a character in a Doris Lessing novel, are  wonderfully evocative of the lives of so many of us. After all, our  little planet contains extensive networks of entirely different  varieties of human motives, both far worse and far better than we can  easily imagine. And one of the more useful ones is the realm of the quietly trudging boulder-pushers. This relatively unglamorous yet immensely worthwhile zone is composed of all of us who quietly and actively push against the grain of the ruling stupidities in our poor suffering world.  We have rejected the lure of involvement in worldly greed, lies, and  crookedness as best we can, despite the fact that this is far more  easily wished for than accomplished. We have no such grandiose  ambitions as sainthood. But we can relate very well to being members of  the brotherhood and sisterhood of slogging away, shoving that moldy old  boulder uphill. And when the news is very bad, and getting worse, and  that huge rock teeters and starts to rush back down once more, we are  the ones who most sharply feel the grief of failure.  Boulder-pushers can be discovered rising to the occasion in every  color, race, creed and nationality, and in every kind of work.  Everywhere and in everything, official accepted insanity is methodically geared to grinding the sane humanity out of human beings.  Everywhere and in everything, those who fight this are here also,  pushing back against the enormous dreary boulder of entrenched  stupidity. We cannot be distinguished by mere appearances or social  roles, yet invariably we recognize one another through our standard  operating equipment: the dedicated boulder-pusher’s inner radar  detector. Day after week after month after year after decade, we keep  on struggling, together-at-a-distance, to shove that dangerous ancient  rock back up the same old precipitous mountain.  Boulder-pushers are known by persistence, and almost always by an excellent, and occasionally very strange, sense of humor. (We can often  be spotted by a finely tuned taste in sarcastic political cartoons.) We  are sociable, festive, solitary, melancholy, good-humored, depressed, manic, peaceable and volatile. We are every type and no special type at  all. We are bursting with energy and health, and so sick we are barely hanging on. We are talkative and taciturn, extraordinary lonely, and  open to the deep joys of companionship. Mostly we just work very hard, at whatever it is we are being and doing about that boulder. We are  seldom to be found lying around vacationing at its foot, though occasionally we do that too. Mostly we just heave ho and heave to. We  get so tired we can sometimes be found draped across our portion of the boulder, sound asleep in broad daylight. We know too well that this  rock is real, and made up of all the ignorance of all the people who  will never even understand it is there. We understand that this heavy  stone, as long as it exists at all, will be hanging around- and hanging  around all our necks. And that it is continually threatening to roll  back down too far and crush us, boulder-pushers and boulder-builders  alike, once and for all. Our endless jokes about this absurdly terrible predicament are one of the great wonders of the human race.  Look around. We are ordinary people, doing extraordinary things. We are  resolutely transmitting light in the darkness, however modest our wattage. We take the time to share the best information at a time when  no one has any time. We teach, rant, cajole, hector, lecture, and employ sweet reasonableness to its maximum capacity. We write and talk  and listen and learn all we can. We pray and meditate and stay  connected one way or another to the source of all goodness and truth in  life. We keep our minds open, even when that means we sometimes have to  take a crowbar to our own prejudices. We do our own thinking, and don’t  take anything from any authority at face value. We prod and poke and pester the powers that be, because they so richly deserve and require it. We investigate and castigate abundant abuses, large and small, local and global. At our own expense, we do crucial research in the context of endless illegal governmental, military and corporate secrecy. In a system built on denial, we deny the power of denial itself. We find, finesse, and force truth to emerge from world-size institutional lies.  We have not been devoured alive by stupidity’s hypnotic media machine.  We use our own perceptions, and fully engage our own heads, hearts, and  hands in daily life. We are not passivists, but activists. We create,  nourish, tend, and shore up all that is beautiful and healthy and loving. We will die to keep the spirit of freedom alive in the human race if we have to - but we would rather live by it and for it. We share  knowledge, materials, and insights. We pay attention: we keep watch and we keep honest records. We keep the unfortunately necessary running  commentaries going on the differences between wisdom and stark raving  lunacy. We keep websites going under impossible conditions. We take the  time to keep critical information flowing at a time when time goes so fast it barely exists. We are good to our families, to our friends, and to strangers when we can be. We care about the bodies and souls of  other human beings as well as our own. We know what to forgive and  forget, and what to keep after.  Mostly we never think about any of this. We’re far too busy or too tired or too grubby or too concentrated on the next step to look around  and reflect on what we are doing. It is just who we are and what we do.  This is what we did yesterday, and today, and what we will do tomorrow.  We know that that giant stone of stupidity is going to be there, requiring our daily push, for a very long time to come. We are, naturally, occasionally flattened by the very thought.  We are the boulder-pushers of the present, the spiritual sons and daughters of all previous generations of boulder-pushers, and the  spiritual fathers and mothers of the boulder-pushers to come. Some of us don’t even believe that efforts to destroy human ignorance will ever have an end. We think that boulder pushing is the natural activity of  all those who care about the human species, and that it is more or less  eternal. We do it anyway, without fear and without much hope, just  because it is the right thing to do. Others of us believe that some day, some day much too far away even to imagine very well, this particular boulder really will finally arrive at the top of the  mountain. We refused to be permanently depressed by the spectacle of the dangerous, degenerate and collapsing form of yet one more temporary  contemporary civilization. The long thought of centuries of hard labor  does not prevent us from getting up in the morning and lending a hand  to the day’s push. Some eon or other, we believe that boulder really  will stop falling backward. We believe that a distant generation of  boulder-pushers will at last succeed in heaving that boulder over the  final hump. It will finally just rock back and forth a little, shiver  slightly, and become still. And then it will begin slowly to crumble to dust. Boulder Pushers  It’s only a matter of time.
BioGeometric Integration's Tetrahedrons
The Boulder Pushers

(Many thanks to Diane Harvey,

  merak@sedona.net)

                        Joseph B. Clifford, D.C.
Say "NO!" to the development and  production genetically modified foods!
Protect our Constitution!
“No, I’m not for sainthood. I’m going to be a boulder-pusher… There’s a great black mountain. It’s human stupidity. There are people who push a boulder up the mountain. When they’ve got a few  feet up, there’s a war, or the wrong sort of revolution, and the  boulder rolls down- not to the bottom, it always manages to end a few  inches higher than when it started. So the group of people puts its  shoulders to the boulder and starts pushing again. Meanwhile, at the top of the mountain stand a few great men. Sometimes they look down and nod and say: ‘Good, the boulder-pushers are still on duty.’  But, meanwhile,  they are meditating about the nature of space, or what it will be like  when the world is full of people who don’t hate and fear and murder.” These words, spoken by a character in a Doris Lessing novel, are  wonderfully evocative of the lives of so many of us. After all, our  little planet contains extensive networks of entirely different  varieties of human motives, both far worse and far better than we can  easily imagine. And one of the more useful ones is the realm of the quietly trudging boulder-pushers. This relatively unglamorous yet immensely worthwhile zone is composed of all of us who quietly and actively push against the grain of the ruling stupidities in our poor suffering world.  We have rejected the lure of involvement in worldly greed, lies, and  crookedness as best we can, despite the fact that this is far more  easily wished for than accomplished. We have no such grandiose  ambitions as sainthood. But we can relate very well to being members of  the brotherhood and sisterhood of slogging away, shoving that moldy old  boulder uphill. And when the news is very bad, and getting worse, and  that huge rock teeters and starts to rush back down once more, we are  the ones who most sharply feel the grief of failure.  Boulder-pushers can be discovered rising to the occasion in every  color, race, creed and nationality, and in every kind of work.  Everywhere and in everything, official accepted insanity is methodically geared to grinding the sane humanity out of human beings.  Everywhere and in everything, those who fight this are here also,  pushing back against the enormous dreary boulder of entrenched  stupidity. We cannot be distinguished by mere appearances or social  roles, yet invariably we recognize one another through our standard  operating equipment: the dedicated boulder-pusher’s inner radar  detector. Day after week after month after year after decade, we keep  on struggling, together- at-a-distance, to shove that dangerous ancient  rock back up the same old precipitous mountain.  Boulder-pushers are known by persistence, and almost always by an excellent, and occasionally very strange, sense of humor. (We can often  be spotted by a finely tuned taste in sarcastic political cartoons.) We  are sociable, festive, solitary, melancholy, good-humored, depressed, manic, peaceable and volatile. We are every type and no special type at  all. We are bursting with energy and health, and so sick we are barely hanging on. We are talkative and taciturn, extraordinary lonely, and  open to the deep joys of companionship. Mostly we just work very hard, at whatever it is we are being and doing about that boulder. We are  seldom to be found lying around vacationing at its foot, though occasionally we do that too. Mostly we just heave ho and heave to. We  get so tired we can sometimes be found draped across our portion of the boulder, sound asleep in broad daylight. We know too well that this  rock is real, and made up of all the ignorance of all the people who  will never even understand it is there. We understand that this heavy  stone, as long as it exists at all, will be hanging around- and hanging  around all our necks. And that it is continually threatening to roll  back down too far and crush us, boulder-pushers and boulder-builders  alike, once and for all. Our endless jokes about this absurdly terrible predicament are one of the great wonders of the human race.  Look around. We are ordinary people, doing extraordinary things. We are  resolutely transmitting light in the darkness, however modest our wattage. We take the time to share the best information at a time when  no one has any time. We teach, rant, cajole, hector, lecture, and employ sweet reasonableness to its maximum capacity. We write and talk  and listen and learn all we can. We pray and meditate and stay  connected one way or another to the source of all goodness and truth in  life. We keep our minds open, even when that means we sometimes have to  take a crowbar to our own prejudices. We do our own thinking, and don’t  take anything from any authority at face value. We prod and poke and pester the powers that be, because they so richly deserve and require it. We investigate and castigate abundant abuses, large and small, local and global. At our own expense, we do crucial research in the context of endless illegal governmental, military and corporate secrecy. In a system built on denial, we deny the power of denial itself. We find, finesse, and force truth to emerge from world-size institutional lies.  We have not been devoured alive by stupidity’s hypnotic media machine.  We use our own perceptions, and fully engage our own heads, hearts, and  hands in daily life. We are not passivists, but activists. We create,  nourish, tend, and shore up all that is beautiful and healthy and loving. We will die to keep the spirit of freedom alive in the human race if we have to - but we would rather live by it and for it. We share  knowledge, materials, and insights. We pay attention: we keep watch and we keep honest records. We keep the unfortunately necessary running  commentaries going on the differences between wisdom and stark raving  lunacy. We keep websites going under impossible conditions. We take the  time to keep critical information flowing at a time when time goes so fast it barely exists. We are good to our families, to our friends, and to strangers when we can be. We care about the bodies and souls of  other human beings as well as our own. We know what to forgive and  forget, and what to keep after.  Mostly we never think about any of this. We’re far too busy or too tired or too grubby or too concentrated on the next step to look around  and reflect on what we are doing. It is just who we are and what we do.  This is what we did yesterday, and today, and what we will do tomorrow.  We know that that giant stone of stupidity is going to be there, requiring our daily push, for a very long time to come. We are, naturally, occasionally flattened by the very thought.  We are the boulder-pushers of the present, the spiritual sons and daughters of all previous generations of boulder-pushers, and the  spiritual fathers and mothers of the boulder-pushers to come. Some of us don’t even believe that efforts to destroy human ignorance will ever have an end. We think that boulder pushing is the natural activity of  all those who care about the human species, and that it is more or less  eternal. We do it anyway, without fear and without much hope, just  because it is the right thing to do. Others of us believe that some day, some day much too far away even to imagine very well, this particular boulder really will finally arrive at the top of the  mountain. We refused to be permanently depressed by the spectacle of the dangerous, degenerate and collapsing form of yet one more temporary  contemporary civilization. The long thought of centuries of hard labor  does not prevent us from getting up in the morning and lending a hand  to the day’s push. Some eon or other, we believe that boulder really  will stop falling backward. We believe that a distant generation of  boulder-pushers will at last succeed in heaving that boulder over the  final hump. It will finally just rock back and forth a little, shiver  slightly, and become still. And then it will begin slowly to crumble to dust. Boulder Pushers  It’s only a matter of time.