Boston Paul decides to stay in Taiwan after outpouring of Love and Well Wishes 謝謝你的愛..我會住在台灣。

April 2

Happy Day After April First!

Yesterday I announced that I would be leaving Taiwan.

(Link to that story below)

After making the painstaking decision to leave this Wonderful Island Paradise on April First,  the outpouring of Love & Well-wishes has prompted me to stay one more year… it’s going to take me about that long to sell and throw away all my stuff anyway.

In the meantime, I hope that many of us can meet – as we always say we will – for a few drinks and a warm chat.

Life is short…  live it well.


Peace and Love

The original story is here:


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Published in: on April 2, 2016 at 2:22 PM  Comments (5)  
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Boston Paul to leave Taiwan after 21 years ** 二十一 年到了 – 我會離開台灣

Will leave Taiwan PIC

Boston Paul to leave Taiwan after 21 years ** 二十一 年到了 – 我會離開台灣


The time has come to leave this wonderful island. An island I’ve spent almost half my life on.  I’ve met so many wonderful people, watched a generation grow up. I saw the very first Taiwanese elections in 1996 as China dropped missiles off the coast to intimidate the newly elected government.  I saw the Taiwanese band together and rebuild after the devastating earthquake in 1999.   I watched a music scene grow from Singaporean cover bands to an original music bonanza.  I met my wife here. My son has grown up here.  There are many here that I call Family.

The decision was a tough one.  But I’ve realized that my time here is over and it is time to leave.

Good bye Taiwan… it’s been awesome.

Spring is here… time for rebirth and a new life..

Whatever I can’t take with me I will sell and give away.  I won’t be returning to the USA as the political climate there is unsettling.  I will most likely venture to India, then Mongolia, then settle in Nepal…. But who knows where my Journey Path will take me?

Thank you all for the many years of friendship and through all the ups and down, I thank you deeply for the love, caring and companionship.

Peace and Love



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A Child, His Mother, God & Shit

Marquee for Blog Post

I was about eight years old when I thought I was a big man and blurted out the word Shit to show my younger brother and sister what a tough guy I was. I loved to use the word ‘shit’ and often spit the word out lavishly and with venom… out of earshot of adults of course. My brother would gasp “ooo… mommy better not hear you say that!” Smugly, I would say it a few more times.

I didn’t care who heard me. Not even God!

One summer afternoon, after lunch, I was playing with my brother and sister in the yard. We were probably arguing about something mundane – a toy perhaps – but to a child, it was of earth-shattering consequence.

Sure that I was out of earshot of my very Protestant Evangelical Fundamentalist Christian Mother who had been known to not spare the rod on occasion, I yelled out Shit! thinking that would end the earth-shattering dispute.

Immediately, I heard, PAAAAAAAAUUUUULLLL! emerge – breaking the sound barrier – from inside the house.

I cringed.

It was not the ‘PAAUULL! where are you? – come home from dinner’ yell.

Nor was it the ‘PAAUULL! Come home, it’s getting dark!’ yell.

This was clearly the ‘Oh shit, you’re in big fucking trouble’ yell.

Sheepishly, I walked into the house. My brother and sister followed cautiously behind me to see what would happen. They knew that ‘PAAUULL!’ yell all too well.

My mother called me into the living room.

“What did I just hear you say?” she asked looking me straight in the eyes. I looked away.

Ship,” I said.

It did not sound like ‘ship’ to me,” she retorted.

It wasn’t!” My brother and sister betrayed me.

Go stand in the corner,” she commanded. I walked past the piano to stand in the corner. As punishment, she told me I must repeat the word Shit for ten minutes.

This was something new! She was actually going to let me say the word Shit for ten minutes?


It started out fine and dandy and I began strong: SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! My younger brother and sister were trying to stifle their laughter as I repeated SHIT! over and over.

My mother had gone to the kitchen… but was still within earshot.

This was way better than my Evangelical Christian Mother not sparing the rod!

For the first few minutes, it was cool. I got to say the word Shit ! and I would look over my shoulder intermittently – and cautiously as one could only stare at the wall in the corner and was not permitted to look around – at my younger brother and sister complacently as they stood by watching and grinning.

After what seemed like an hour – but was in fact only five minutes – Shit stopped sounding like word.

My younger brother and sister – not able to contain themselves anymore – were laughing hysterically.

Another minute or so passed, and Shit not only stopped sounding like a word it had also lost all its meaning.

My tongue, the roof of my mouth and even my teeth began to feel numb. I did not know where the [sh] sound began and the [t] sound ended.

My mouth muscles had begun to cramp up and I stopped for a moment to try to form the word.

Did I tell you to stop?” My mother called out. “I’m adding on two more minutes!”

 I cried out. My smug smirk had long faded into an agonizing grimace.

Shit – shiiit – shi – tish – tish – shshh. shitishtishitit… I struggled.

As the 10 minute mark came and went, the word Shit fumbled out of my confused mouth as I prayed to God – whom must have been listening and looking down on the situation with glee – to have mercy and speed up time.
Finally, my mother came back to the living room, “turn around,” she ordered.

I turned slowly around.

Did you learn a lesson?” she asked.

I nodded and tried to say yes. I heard myself say Yesh instead.

I tried to say yes again. Yesh, I sputtered. I gave up and just nodded.

I vowed never to use the word Shit thereafter and indeed it was quite a while before saying the word felt natural and good again.

Once I realized I could say Shit without stuttering or feeling strange, I vowed to only use the word sparingly… and out of earshot of Mother.

A couple of years later, when Shit no longer gave me that big person feeling, I experimented with the word Fuck… but that is a whole other story.


You can Follow the Militant Hippi/Boston Paul on Facebook:

You might also like to read some other short stories by Boston Paul AKA The Militant Hippi:

  1. About a Great Grandfather and his Great Grandson:My Great Grandfather: When Cultures Clash. Ass kicking, long hair and Hard Knocks

    2.  This is my weapon and this is my Gun, based on real life events, a young man finds himself in Central America:

3. Hate waiting in line?  This is for you:

4. The Would Be Patriot:

5. A bit of Horror and suspense… never blow this guy’s candle out!

6. Getting Stoned at The Fair



My Great Grandfather: When Cultures Clash. Ass kicking, long hair and Hard Knocks

My Great Grandfather: When Cultures Clash


Great Grandfather and his Rake.

It was the day before my Great Grandfather’s Birthday – his Life Celebration – when he died. 

He would have celebrated his hundredth birthday and it would have been celebrated on a Sunday.  Now I know he is somewhere in the Spirit World angry as hell that he missed it by one day.  Just one day!

My Grandfather would not be angry just because he died.  Everyone dies someday, he used to say.  But you see, he had this thing about him – these things actually. But there was one thing about him, and everyone who knew him would agree, he liked things just right.  And dying on his birthday at 100 years old would have completed the perfect circle.

My Great Grandfather was a bit quirky, a Renaissance Man and what a pop psychologist may even call a bit anal-retentive. Things had to be put in their proper place. Labeled. Cleaned. This however did not show so much when dealing with other people, it was just a little quirk in his own life.

For instance, if you opened his refrigerator, everything was arranged just the way he liked it. Food that may spoil first (and his favorite treats) were placed at the front of the fridge followed by food with a later expiry date and food less preferred (he hated beets, but knew they were healthy… which is probably why he lived to be so old). Things that didn’t spoil were arranged by size and color. Ketchup, mustard and relish were arranged in that order because that’s how they were aligned in a visible (light) spectrum. I told him it was because deep down he was a Rasta and he told me to shut the hell up.

Now I feel that his refrigerator habits made sense.  And even now I do the same thing. Which to anyone who knew the both of us, this was no surprise. They all used to say (and still do) that I was just like him. Down to the bone, they’d say. 

Maybe that’s why we got along so well, my Great Grandfather and I.

My father and I were a different story however.

My father and I were also much alike in a few ways – stubborn, temperamental – and perhaps that is why he tried to kill me one day. 

If not for my Great Grandfather and a rake, I might not be writing this now.

To begin, I should mention that my Mom and Dad got divorced when I was very young. My younger brother was a year and half old, my sister was just born and I was three.

He wanted to move to a warmer climate (sick of those New England winters) and my mother would not leave her family (a townie through and through)… so they parted ways. To be fair, my parents were very young when they married, so I can’t blame either. We do dumb things when we are young… and if it wasn’t for their dumbness, I wouldn’t be writing this now.

So YAY for that. 

We had not seen my father for a few years, and then one day, he came back.  

I got to see Dad on the weekends.  I was still young and it was a thrill to have a “dad” again. We would go out on his motorcycle, or drive around in his Cutlass.  He taught me how to fight and protect myself and when the bullies on the playground came around, I had something for them. 

Having a dad again was great (even though it was just the weekends)… until I started getting older and realized he did not know the first thing about raising kids. But still, he had his own ideas.

  You see, the older I got, the more I wanted my own identity… to be my own person. Some called me rebellious, but I wasn’t thinking that way.  I grew my hair longer and changed the style of my clothes.  My father took this all in stride at first.  But he was only tolerating my behavior for the time being. 

My father was what one would call Old School. He said he was brought up at the school of Hard Knocks, and that my generation didn’t know what it meant to be disciplined and respect their elders.

Little did I know that it was just a matter of time before Old School of Hard Knocks dominated any guilt feelings he had about leaving his children so many years ago.

Just a matter of time came one Saturday morning when he came to pick me up.  I was still eating breakfast when he came in. 

My Mother had gone upstairs and my brother was in the back yard playing with the dog.  My sister was standing in the kitchen door watching my brother.  I had stayed out late the night before with a few friends and had climbed back in the window of my room during the wee hours. I was still feeling a little drowsy when my father came in.

He stopped and looked at me.

“Hi Dad,” I said.

“What the hell is that in your ear?” he asked. 

My hand shot up to my ear.  A sudden cold washed over me as I started to sweat.  I had forgotten that my friends and I pierced our ears the night before, a kind of bonding thing I guess. 

I pierced my ear first with a sewing needle, and then I helped my buddy with his and he helped another with his and so on.  Then we all celebrated by drinking until we passed out (it didn’t take much, we were only fifteen).

“I asked if it was real,” he said.  I swallowed. 

(How come the only time you realize you’re swallowing, is when you are terrified?)

He grabbed my shirt and shook me. “Answer me!” he yelled

“I…I…” I couldn’t get the words out.  He let go of me.

“Take it out now,” he demanded.  I began to reach up and take it out. 

Then I stopped.

“No,” I said.

“What did you say?” my father said astonished.

I swallowed again (damn it!).

“No,” I repeated.

“You will take it out of your ear, or I will rip it out!” he bellowed. 

Fear gripped me, but at the same time I was angry.  I didn’t want anyone telling me what to do. 

He can’t tell me what to do, he doesn’t live here. I thought.

“Did you hear me, boy?”

“Dad,” I said, “why are you doing this?”

“I am not going to have a sissy faggot for a son,” he replied.

“I am not a sissy faggot,” I had to defend myself. You try piercing your own ear with a needle!

“Then take the earring out of your ear.”

“That has nothing to do with being a sissy faggot, Dad.”

“Take the goddamn thing out now, boy.”

“No!”  I yelled. “You can’t tell me what to do!”  I struggled to my feet, but my legs felt like Jell-O.

He began to roll his shirt sleeves up.  “Are you talking back to me?  I believe you need to be disciplined the old fashion way. Your mother doesn’t discipline you enough.” 

He began walking towards me.  I backed up.  My sister turned and saw us. I prayed that she would run and get Mom, but she just stood there watching. I backed up into the kitchen and scanned the counters for something I could protect myself with.

WHAM!!  He backhanded me.  I reeled around.  The whole kitchen began spinning as I fell.

“Get up you chicken shit sissy.” Dazed I grabbed the door knob to the kitchen door and pulled myself up.  He reached for my ear and I turned my head.

“Don’t you turn away from me, boy!  Now are you going to take that thing out of your ear?”

“No!”  I cried.  He grabbed me by my long hair, my shirt and that extra bit of skin on the back of the neck and hurled me out the kitchen door into the back yard.  My brother stopped playing and looked at me.

“What’s wrong?” my brother asked.

“Nothing,” my father told him, “get in the house.”  My brother was still looking at me as he went into the house.  My Father jerked me to my feet. My legs were shaking, but I managed to stand.

“Now, do you think you are man enough to hit me?” he asked.
I clenched my fists.

SMACK!!  He hit me again.  “You’re not a man.  Now get up boy…  I said get up!”   

The inside of my mouth was filling with blood.  My head was spinning.  I got back up.  I licked my lip, it was cracked and bleeding.

“Now you are going to take that thing out of your ear, and then we are going to go to Ernie’s.”

GOD, no!  Ernie was the town barber.  Probably the last of his kind.  I think he was a barber in the military before he opened his own shop. I knew that I was NOT going to go to Ernie’s.  He would have to kill me first.

“Dad, you can hit me all you want, but I am not going there,” it hurt when I talked and blood spattered out of my mouth onto my shirt.

“Oh, now you are telling me what you’re going to do?  Well, I’ll tell you what, I am going to beat you senseless.  Then I am going to pick you up and take you there.  When you wake up, you will have a proper haircut and that thing in your ear will be gone.”

“I am not going!”  I raised my fists to fight back.  Anger took over fear. Instinct. 

He hit me again knocking my fist into my nose.  Then I felt another blow and then another.  I was bleeding and mucus was all over my face. My eyes were filled with water, and then the hitting ceased. 

I heard a noise and some muffled shouts. My eyes were shut, but everything was still spinning. I was in the fetus position on the ground.

I opened my eyes. I stared at the ground and saw how the grass moved when I breathed. I lifted my aching head and turned my stiff neck toward the house and saw mother in the doorway with a look of horror on her face.  My brother and sister were watching from the window. 

My father was holding his knee in what looked like pain.

“You son of a bitch!” he cried. “You can’t stop me from disciplining my son!” 

I looked to see who my Father was talking to, but heard my Great Grandfather speak before I saw him.

“Ya wanna try to hit me, boy?”  My Great Grandfather asked my father.  I looked over at Gramps and he was holding a rake he had just used to hit my Father in the knee cap with.

“Hit an old man?” My father laughed and then grimaced, “I’m not going to hit an old man.”

“Why not?  You’re hitting a young boy, why not an old man?”

My father looked at him and then looked at me. 

I stared at my father – hating him and feeling sorry for him at the same time.

“Come on, now!” My great Grandfather taunted. 

My father looked at him.  My Great Grandfather smiled holding the rake firmly and with confidence. 

His smile wasn’t a happy smile or even a sinister smile. I am not sure how to describe it.  Perhaps it was a smile that conveyed, I don’t have a care in the world.  I can kick your ass or have a cup of tea, it’s all the same to me.

“Well, ya gonna stand there rubbing your knee contemplating hitting me or are ya gonna apologize to the boy and your ex wife for whatchya did, then get on out of here?  And if you’re calmed down by next week, maybe ya can come back.”

“I’m not apologizing to anyone,” replied my father as he limped away. 

He went around the front yard where his car was parked.  I started to get up.  My Great Grandfather leaned the rake against the house and came over to me to help me up.  I could feel the strength. I would say that he was strong for an old man, but he was strong for any man – young or old.  A strength that I hoped to have someday.

“Let’s getchya cleaned up,” he said.

We didn’t see my father for a month after that day.  He called a couple times to talk to my brother.  It didn’t matter.
For the time being, I still had my hair – my long hair –  and my earring. 

Later on that month, I switched from the silver stud earring to one with a feather – a small feather – just like the one my Great Grandfather had in his ear…



You can Follow the Militant Hippi/Boston Paul on Facebook:

You Might also like to read:

What is a Friend?

The Music of Birds and Humans:

Ride … a poem by a younger me:

Boston Paul & The Refuge – Click-Bait? Our Response to an Odious Blog Post

“Hell hath no fury like a Dakeng Hippie criticized…”

~ Titus Pants

Recently, it was brought to my attention by friends and supporters that someone had written a not very flattering piece on The Refuge, a Refuge event called Hobo Happiness, and specifically me – whom many of you know as Boston Paul.

I’ve broken My Ranty Rebuttal down for you so that those of you that are part of the Refuge Community or personal friends (actual friends – more on that later) can scroll to parts that you want to read and skip other parts you already know.

You’re welcome.

Here are the Titillating Tasty Tidbits – broken down for you:

1. Why I’m Writing This Piece
2. My First (and only) meeting DBT

3. The Refuge History
4. The Hobo Happiness Event
5. The Food & The Bonfire
6. The Bits about Boston Paul
7. My Thoughts

8. The DBT Article Reposted for your reading (dis)pleasure.
9. (NEW) I Re-Wrote DBT’s Article


1. Why I’m Writing This Piece

I managed to read the article after the link was sent to me by a few people. I was a bit surprised by the piece and especially by the author whom I had just recently met in person – though briefly – at The Refuge.

The piece seems to have upset quite a few people and a flood of cell texts and messages filled my PM box. Friends even came to see me personally. The outpouring of love and concern has touched my heart.

Being the hard-ass that I am however… I was just set to ignore it. This is not the first time I have been the center of gossip, controversy, and the angst of others. When you are a well-known person in the community, these things happen. One has to accept not only the pros of being well known, but the cons as well. Either that or become a hermit… and I’m not quite ready to do that yet!

Unless there is a situation/conflict that would put my family and friends in harm’s way, the Militant side of Militant Hippi – my alter ego moniker – would take care of things pronto. Otherwise, I just let stuff like this roll off my back. I have more important things that need my attention.

But Alas, here I am in my cold studio, my freezing fingers reluctantly banging out words on the keyboard, addressing a blog post and setting the record straight for those who need balance.

2. My First (and only) meeting DBT

I will call this gentleman by his initials only. The reason being that if his article was meant for click-bait for his blog, I will not help him get those hits. I am very supportive of free speech and of the community, but will not be manipulated or used to garner attention. Had his article been well written, thoughtful, well researched and had asked me a few follow up questions thus making his article factual, I would use his name, and he would get my full support and by default the hundreds if not thousands of people I am connected to around the world.


The only contact I have ever had with Mr. DBT the “blogger” was allowing his blog posts to be published on The Refuge Wall when other pages on social media refused to post his blog links as they were deemed “irrelevant” or “scathing” or not fact based i.e. opinionated drivel. He subsequently thanked me for publishing his pieces. He then came to one of our events – Hobo Happiness IV to be precise – found me as he was leaving and introduced himself. Interestingly, he chose not to publish this particular piece on The Refuge Wall.

He seemed like a friendly enough man. He made no mention of the things that ailed him at our event. He made no mention of wanting an interview with me concerning The Refuge, our events or me personally (as many in the past have done). Just two minutes of exchanging names, a hand shake, a minute of small talk, me welcoming him to our community, and one more handshake before I dashed off back to the soundboard to keep the Musicians sounding good.

That’s it. That was the extent of our contact.

Thus, it is baffling – and many of you agree me-thinks – why he would write this piece – and with such ‘authority’? He obviously took time out (apparently not enough time as there are many factual errors) to go to my blog and ‘research’ me… I guess that is flattering. However, it looks like he merely cherry-picked bits in the name of ‘research’ and used some of those pickings in his meandering, opinionated report.

First, just so DBT understands what we do… a brief Refuge History:

3. The Refuge History

We moved to our house, which became our home, almost 16 years ago – a few months after the big devastating 1999 earthquake. The house was a bit farther away from the city, was on a dead end street and had a good sized yard. Perfect.

The house had been empty for years and to be fair, it was a bit dilapidated. We rent – just so everyone knows – and we pay about the same amount of rent as those living in the city except we get a lot more for our money.

There was a lot of work to do on this house. Indeed, as DBT mentions, once upon a time this house was beautiful – snobbishly beautiful – as most of the neighborhood houses were owned by executives from the Renault Car Corporation in a time when Taiwan was still not quite one of the four economic dragons in Asia.

It’s not snobbishly beautiful anymore of course as DBT so eloquently points out in his diatribe. But it does have character. We keep it clean (though we should dust a bit more!) and it is always a work in progress.

The Refuge has an eclectic collection of art, doodads, trinkets, musical instruments and a pretty damn good sound system. It is a friendly inviting place that is always – as many of you know –morphing into something different, new and interesting. People come from all over the Island with their ideas, and artistic know-how.

DBT bases his perception on one short visit. He did not go upstairs where our home is – nor will he as we block that part off and keep it separate from the first floor Refuge. The second floor is our beautiful home. Carpeted, comfortable and cozy with a library, three bedrooms, a living room, two bathrooms and three balconies. We keep this private as many of you can understand. We are pretty public/social people, but we still need a private place to escape to now and then.

He also did not visit our third floor (which we use for storage.) I mention the third floor because he mistakenly called our home a “what must have been a beautiful, western-style, two story cement tiled home on a cul-de-sac…”

ANYWAY, the first time we saw this private dwelling at the end of a cul-de-sac, we were excited that we could entertain many of our friends – which we love to do – who lived in the city and needed to get away.

Soon other friends – artists, musicians, intellectuals and one hell of a carpenter (who still lives across the street!) moved into other empty houses in the neighborhood… the beginnings of The Refuge Community were born.

Friends from the city would visit, lay in the grass, look up at a sunny sky while birds were chirping and exclaim… what a refuge!
Hearing this so many times and from so many different people we all started referring to our home as The Refuge. There was no other place like it that we knew of in Taichung and at the time, no one was doing what we were doing… yes, it was a bit revolutionary.

Because of my love of music and art – and the whole birds of a feather concept – Our ‘refuge’ attracted artists, musicians, thinkers and supporters from all walks: Many Taiwanese frequented our place of course but there were also people coming from all around our beautiful island paradise – and the world.

Since then, almost every single expat I know – even if they haven’t directly added to The Refuge charm – has certainly been touched by The Refuge Community in some way. The Refuge influence has spread all around the Island.

When the mayor of Taichung shut all the bars and music venues down in Taichung a few years ago, The Refuge Community stayed open defiantly and at a risk. It has been said many times that we saved the music scene in Taichung as we were THE ONLY venue in Taichung where bands could play. That is one helluva bit to put on our resume I would say. The Refuge Community saved the Taichung music scene.

You’re welcome.

I have been fortunate to be able to live this kind of life. A life that most people can only dream of. Have there been risks? Yes. Have there been sacrifices? Indeed. I used to make a lot of money running three English schools that I opened by myself starting in 1995. I gave that up to pursue a life in art, music and community and we now live on whatever we make from events, sound engineering gigs, recording bands, playing shows and a few private classes.

This of course is none of DBT’s business, but he seems to want to know who I am… so there you are.

3. The Hobo Happiness Event

DBT writes:

“The reason for my visit was to attend a Facebook advertised “4th Hobo Happiness,” with musical guest Jack Conqueroo, a Robert Johnson-styled electric blues guitarist, harp player, and singer from Canada. He was rather good, though his set was too short. The  act before him, of two drunken male guitarists singing Dylanesque songs, went on too long. Mojo and Sons, who came on after Cook, was a country folk trio of banjo, guitar, kazoo, clarinet, and great harmonies.

I’m glad we agree that Jack Conqueroo’s set was too short. Indeed.
The two drunken foreigners who played early in the day were excited to be part. They are both aspiring musicians, did the show without pay, were nervous to be sure and were appreciative of the opportunity given to them by their hosts.

In the comments to DBT’s article he responds to one of the many comments bashing his piece :

“You (DBT is the ‘You’ here) write an article with the vantage point of seeing hundreds of gatherings with thousands of folk singers over forty years, the best folk singers who started revolutions, not garden parties, and you will have a different perspective.”

Indeed, so DBT is a Folk Gatherings Slut… I’m all about that! Would love to hear some of his stories about other festivals he’s been to (spanning over 40 years!).

All folk singers start from somewhere though, don’t they? Bob Dylan – before he was called Bob Dylan – had a band in high-school called Danny & the Juniors. During a talent show performance the principal cut the microphone because the performance was ‘too loud’ and I suspect a bit too radical for the conservative audience. Though Dylan went on to be part of a revolution, please note that while he was at University, he performed in simple coffee houses.

The point is, that our ‘simple garden party’ is a place for many aspiring musicians to start and get support from the community.

I’ve seen musicians go from our ‘simple’ garden parties, to our very big festivals and then onto even bigger festivals not only here in Taiwan, but in other countries – and make a bit of a name for themselves.

Is DBT a musician? An artist? Does he know what goes into putting an event on? Writing a song? His statement here is ignorant at best.

DBT then writes:

I didn’t catch the name of the pedestrian folk singer who came on after the bluegrass trio and talked too much about himself; I left mid-set.”


I suspect DBT left mid-set of my friend and world traveler. The man whose name was on the event invitation – Scott Cook & The Refuge present – the man who got nominated for a folk singing award in Canada and made the top ten list on university radio stations. A man on the road most of the year. Good on you, DBT.

Though Scott’s been a musician since he was a kid, Taiwan is where he found himself and as he rises in the music world, he always makes an effort to come back and see his Extended Family here in Taiwan as we have always been there for him. You can ask Jack Conqueroo about him. Even Jack – the man DBT came to see – was happy to be part of Hobo Happiness IV and has played with Scott at other venues in Taiwan as well.

DBT was privy to a special gathering, and the opportunity flew right over his head in the name of click-bait and what seems to be a pompous self-worth. Based on the comments I’m not the only one, after reading his article, who feels this way.

5. The Food & The Bonfire

DBT then writes:

“The “Food by Rita’s Kitchen” was simple and no pizza did I see from Rocky’s Pizza from 4pm when I arrived until 7:30 pm when I left. Rita’s kitchen was vegetarian chili and burrito. Despite the “healthy” meatless cuisine, there was plenty of cigarette smoke and vape, beer and alcoholic drinks of which I had three whiskey-ginger ale’s for 100 NT each.  I thought perhaps someone would bring out the hamburgers and sausages when the bon fire was lit, but there was nary a marshmallow roasted over it. I left early, hungry.”

Rita’s kitchen is also a new thing… she’s still getting the hang of it. The food vendors decided to keep it vege as many of the guests do not eat meat. Meaters can always eat meatless cuisine, but it doesn’t work the other way around. No one else seemed to notice or care.

We did not advertise our event as ‘healthy’ as DBT seems to insinuate in his article. Where did these presumptions come from?

Rocky’s Pizza is the name of my friend Max’s place. However, if DBT had taken the time to read the menu, he would have seen what was on it. We wanted to keep it simple and fast.

The bonfire is a ritual at the Refuge. The fire was actually there to keep people warm, and when the music was over (DBT missed two awesome bands) we had an old fashion campfire jam.

DBT left early because he was hungry? There was good food there.

But because we did not serve meat, pizza or fucking marshmallows, DBT folded his arms across his chest, tossed his nose in the air and humphed humphed his way to the exit. Really?

DBT seems to think that because we did not serve dead animal at our event (note, I didn’t make the menu nor the suggestion, the vendors did that all on their own) and that he rode his bicycle to the event (commendable) while our guests took scooters (and quite a few took taxis and carpooled – but DBT didn’t bother to ask about that, eh?), that our guests smoked cigarettes, vaped and that we served alcohol, that somehow we are a bunch of hypocritical hippies and that somehow DBT is better than we are? Seriously?

Basically DBT is saying No meat/perceived hippie values VS other vices/pleasures – but this begs the question: what the fuck does have to do with how much hair you have on your testicles or the price of goat cheese?

If you come to another event, bring your marshmallows and roast them to your heart’s content. Don’t be a picky fucker with your preconceived notions and you will eat well. Delicious food made by competent vendors.

I’m really trying to give DBT the benefit of the doubt and find an actual point in his article. But nary a point do I see.

6. The Bits about Boston Paul

Then DBT turns his pen on me:

Paul D… is an interesting person, friendly and vivacious. He calls his blog “The Militant Hippi.” He is more the latter than the former. The only militarism I could find in his blog history was a stint in the voluntary U.S. army in the early 90’s, though he fancies himself at risk to the KMT police that took his picture when he played music at a “Wild Strawberry Movement” rally. In his blog writings, he celebrates his twentieth “Taiwanniversary” and reviews how he ended up living in Taichung, Taiwan. He says he had a good job back in Boston but doesn’t mention what he did, only that he considered becoming a police officer in Chinatown. He rants in articles against Gxd and religion and in favor of vegetarianism.”
What is this article really about? The Refuge? Hobo Happiness? Or me? I guess this is where the meandering comes in. The writing is not specific, not focused. If it’s supposed to be a critique, it is not done well, and where I do appreciate the compliments: an interesting person, friendly and vivacious. The rest of looks like cherry-picked, discombobulated, horseradish.

If he really wanted to write something about me, I would have been happy to give an interview. Cherry picking bits from my blog and sounding like he’s an authority on aspects of my life is unprofessional (if aspiring to be a writer is his goal) at best, and absolute bollocks at worst.

The oxymoron Militant Hippi seems to have flown right over his head and had DBT asked, he would know that Militant Hippi has a few special meanings for me – on top of being my Blogging Moniker.

But based on his writing style and content, he could give a shit less on what Militant Hippi actually means.

“He says he had a good job back in Boston but doesn’t mention what he did…”
It’s actually none of his fucking business what I did. There are some things I do not share on my blog. My friends know much about my previous life. Do you know why? Because they fucking asked me…

You know what polite people and good journalists do? They ask. Not guess and then put opinions out there like it actually means something.

“…though he fancies himself at risk to the KMT police that took his picture when he played music at a “Wild Strawberry Movement” rally…”

Again, another line of tripe. I did not ‘fancy myself’ at shit. We were told before we went to perform at this political rally that we could be arrested. The anti-government things I said in Mandarin were quite risky and everyone involved had their pictures taken by undercover and uniformed police. Nothing fancy about that. I have been quite active politically here in Taiwan as this Beautiful Island Paradise is my home… and I speak up for justice and liberty for all my fellow earthlings. But again, DBT could have asked me a few follow up questions and I would have enlightened him.

“He rants in articles against Gxd and religion and in favor of vegetarianism.”

So this question is directly for DBT as I know he is reading this.

Do my rants against religion (not just god per-se) and the fact that I do not eat meat offend you? It’s the only reason I can think of for this line of BS.

“Paul D…. mentions getting his “degrees” at UMass but doesn’t mention what his “degrees” were in”. I most certainly do. You should have dug a little bit deeper. Frankly, while I am flattered that you felt the need to write about me, I am equally appalled you did not dig a little deeper. If you are that interested in me, you can read about my ‘degrees’ and what I did before I came to Taiwan here:

Please do a bit more research so in the future you don’t look so much like an ass. And I say that with all due respect.

“For his Bruce Lee fetish and martial arts  interest (he opened a school once in Boston) and Mandarin study, it is clear that Paul D… loves Chinese culture and Taiwan. 
Where, in any of my writings, did you see a Bruce Lee fetish? Seriously, where are you pulling this shit out from?
For the record, I have been a martial artist from about 6 years old.

UPDATE (Dec 24):  I popped over to DBT’s page to get a picture of him for another blog post I’m writing (actually I’m re-writing his!) and found this –

DBT Bruce LeeThat is DBT in Hong Kong posing next to Bruce Lee.  Who has the fetish?

     “Paul Davies doesn’t mention his family background growing up in Boston in the blog, which he says has gotten fifty thousand visits.”
Again, my family background is none of your fucking business. And the fifty thousand visits are counted by the WordPress Blog Site.., not me… and why mention this at all? WTF does it have to do with how much you weigh or the price of horse shit used for fertilizer?

I went into my stats and clipped this for you. Thank you WordPress.

Views on my blog

He is no working class stiff and not a union man.”  Huh?     Wait….      Huh??

The house that he has since 2008 in Da-keng, I have lived in this house since 2000. Where did you get 2008? and the 30,000 ping space he rented at the old Dongshan Paradise theme park (that had been destroyed in the 1999 earthquake) Dongshan Paradise was not destroyed in the earthquake and was a helluva lot bigger than 30,000 ping. RESEARCH DBT! RESEARCH! …must have been paid for by someone, perhaps by the volunteers and friends who come and go and float with him. What is your meaning here? What are you insinuating? Research! Ask Questions! This is why your article is getting ripped apart by people that actually know what is going on. By painting me in a crappy light, you yourself look like a Bumbling Buffoon.

” ‘It’s financially self-sufficient,’ Paul said in an interview in 2011.” An interview! Yes! WHAT A GREAT IDEA! YOU should try that DBT! Perhaps then your article would not be one big piece of meandering, pointless, scathing Suck.

LUVstock was a three-day musical party, held at Dongshan Paradise yearly, until he left his lease in 2013 and moved it back to his property.”

LUVstock has been happening in one form or another since about 2003. We had LUVstock at Dongshan Paradise while The Refuge was there (we were there for three years exactly). When they SOLD THE LAND, we moved The Refuge back to our place.  We did not leave our lease.
We have been looking for a place to open a new venue, but in the meantime, we will make do with what we got.

“Whatever one wants to think about Paul D…, the “4th Hobo Happiness,” “LUVstock,” and other events he has organized are not about him, per se, but about getting Taiwan’s English-speaking ex-pats together as a community and for fun.”
“Whatever one wants to think about Paul D…” Why open the paragraph with this statement? You don’t know me, DBT. Whatever you think about Paul D…. Huh?

The events I organize are about bringing people together, not just expats. They’re about giving people opportunities, to be part of something – and for me – to feel like I’m doing my small part to make the world a better place. What, DBT, have YOU done to try to make the world a better place besides writing inflammatory articles about shit you have no idea about?

7. My Thoughts

DBT wrote this piece with scant evidence, preconceived notions and cherry picked data from my blog. My blog, where I choose to keep some things confidential but will generally provide information when asked. I was never interviewed for his piece. Did not know he was going to write a piece and treated him the same as I would any other guest at The Refuge or my home: Courteous and respectful.

However, as many of you who actually know me as a person can attest, do not mistake my friendly demeanor, charisma, peace n love hippie lifestyle (and let’s not forget “vivaciousness”!) for weakness. There are some that have learned the hard way there. If push comes to shove, I’m a fucking truck.

What prompted DBT to write in this way? Was it a low self esteem? Perhaps he was bullied in school and now the Pen is his Sword? Do I remind DBT of the bullies that used to pick on him?  Is it because I am from Boston and he’s from New York and is propagating this childish rivalry? Is he jealous of what we do here in Taiwan? I’m now beginning  to understand why others do not want to publish his articles on their pages.  The way he writes things leaves a lot to be desired.

In the comments to your post, DBT writes: I am friends with Paul and I have no reason to believe our friendship and mutual admiration won’t grow.
DBT, Facebook says we are friends as you have recently added me (and then apparently Unfriended me when you started getting heat for your article). However, if you want to know what I think a friend is… I wrote about it here (Sorry DBT, you don’t quite qualify. We are acquaintances only):

For someone who wants to be friends with me, you have a strange way of showing it, DBT.

You are getting a lot of heat for your article. Think about that. Are all those people wrong with their assessment of your scathing report? Or are you? Rather than trying to defend yourself and what you wrote from the people that are not happy with your report – me included – perhaps you should look inward. Ask yourself what was your real intent writing that article?

I expect criticisms and suggestions and generally welcome them. Critiques and suggestions are acknowledged and help us to do better next time. What was surprising of course – and perhaps it is my fault as I naively expect everyone who comes to our events to be like-minded i.e. wants a good time, wants to support the community, and wants to do something different – is that upon meeting you, I wrongly surmised that you were seeking to be part of our community. 95% of the people I meet – and there are new people every week, do make it a point to be part of our community in some way. You sir, I suspect, are the other 5%. No worries, what we do is not everyone’s cup of tea… but at least the other 5% do not write inflammatory, meandering, opinionated tripe then blog it for all the world to see.

If you would like a proper interview DBT, so that you can write a factual, thoughtful piece on what we do here in Taichung, you know where to find me.

In the meantime, Peace be with you.

8. The DBT Article Reposted for your reading (dis)pleasure.

The Happy Hobo’s Refuge in Taichung


I went to The Refuge for the first time yesterday. It is right up Dong-Shan Road to the right of the little traffic circle on Buzi Road, but I got lost anyway; ended up doing a loop up and down the Da-keng mountain slope and back to the 7-11 on the corner of Buzi Road. After I got straight, the place was remote but easy to find. Around sixty guests paid 300 NT each to get in to the “4th Hobo Happiness.”

The Refuge is in what must have been a beautiful, western-style, two story cement tiled home on a cul-de-sac, with walled entrance and a large patio and private backyard. It is not beautiful anymore. If it were made of wood and not cement, it would be rotting apart. They may have gotten it cheaply after the 1999 earthquake affected the zone which it is in. The grounds are in shambles. Things are makeshift in the public area.

 Jack Conqueroo
Jack Conqueroo
performs at the 4th Hobo Happiness

The reason for my visit was to attend a Facebook advertised “4th Hobo Happiness,” with musical guest Jack Conqueroo, a Robert Johnson-styled electric blues guitarist, harp player, and singer from Canada. He was rather good, though his set was too short. The  act before him, of two drunken male guitarists singing Dylanesque songs, went on too long. Mojo and Sons, who came on after Cook, was a country folk trio of banjo, guitar, kazoo, clarinet, and great harmonies. I didn’t catch the name of the pedestrian folk singer who came on after the bluegrass trio and talked too much about himself; I left mid-set.

Before I left, I made sure to thank Paul D… in person for publishing my radical articles on the Refuge Facebook page. Most of the time, Paul was marching around doing things to make the mostly thirty-five-year-old guests happy. At first, I had mistaken Paul for a man named Mitch (Militant Hippi Note: The Man’s name was DAVE not MITCH and he’s an awesome guy), a dried up slender oldster with a patch on his left ear sitting with a younger Asian woman (Militant Hippi Note: That younger Asian Woman was HIS WIFE and she’s awesome, too). He told Paul I was looking for him early on and I left it at that. The only person I recognized there was the guitar accompanist (Militant Hippi Note: His name was also DAVE) of a local blues singer that holds open-mic at PJ’s. I met and spoke with other nice people who had come from all over Taiwan to this event.

 Mojo and sons
Mojo and Sons
perform at 4th Hobo Happiness

The “Food by Rita’s Kitchen” was simple and no pizza did I see from Rocky’s Pizza from 4pm when I arrived until 7:30 pm when I left. Rita’s kitchen was vegetarian chili and burrito. Despite the “healthy” meatless cuisine, there was plenty of cigarette smoke and vape, beer and alcoholic drinks of which I had three whiskey-ginger ale’s for 100 NT each.  I thought perhaps someone would bring out the hamburgers and sausages when the bon fire was lit, but there was nary a marshmallow roasted over it. I left early, hungry. On the way out, the street was clogged with motorcycles and cars of party-goers. Mine was the only bicycle I saw parked outside.

Paul Davies is an interesting person, friendly and vivacious. He calls his blog “The Militant Hippi.” He is more the latter than the former. The only militarism I could find in his blog history was a stint in the voluntary U.S. army in the early 90’s, though he fancies himself at risk to the KMT police that took his picture when he played music at a “Wild Strawberry Movement” rally. In his blog writings, he celebrates his twentieth “Taiwanniversary” and reviews how he ended up living in Taichung, Taiwan. He says he had a good job back in Boston but doesn’t mention what he did, only that he considered becoming a police officer in Chinatown. He rants in articles against Gxd and religion and in favor of vegetarianism.

 The Refuge 7 years ago
Guests enjoy the Tiki-bar atmosphere  at The Refuge

(Militant Hippi Note: this picture he uses above was taken 7 years ago)

Paul Davies mentions getting his “degrees” at UMass but doesn’t mention what his “degrees” were in. He is affiliated with Donghai University here in Taichung, originally as a student, and met a number of intellectual ex-pat friends there. For his Bruce Lee fetish and martial arts  interest (he opened a school once in Boston) and Mandarin study, it is clear that Paul Davies loves Chinese culture and Taiwan.
Paul Davies doesn’t mention his family background growing up in Boston in the blog, which he says has gotten fifty thousand visits. He is no working class stiff and not a union man. The house that he has since 2008 in Da-keng, and the 30,000 ping space he rented at the old Dongshan Paradise theme park (that had been destroyed in the 1999 earthquake) must have been paid for by someone, perhaps by the volunteers and friends who come and go and float with him. “It’s financially self-sufficient,” Paul said in an interview in 2011.

 The Frog II
Paul Davies (right) makes music in The Refuge sound studio

MILITANT HIPPI NOTE: The picture above is from The Frog II not from The Refuge Studios. RESEARCH!.

LUVstock was a three-day musical party, held at Dongshan Paradise yearly, until he left his lease in 2013 and moved it back to his property. Though his musical aspirations never left him, he managed to settle down enough to marry and even raise a child. There is certainly a lot of sharing what he has with others and a new age spirit glow; donations accepted.
Whatever one wants to think about Paul Davies, the “4th Hobo Happiness,” “LUVstock,” and other events he has organized are not about him, per se, but about getting Taiwan’s English-speaking ex-pats together as a community and for fun. Music and art predominate in his home and a volunteer spirit permeates the grounds.

Militant Hippi Note:  If you would like to read a more accurate report of The Refuge you can go here:

(The second link talks about when we were at Dong Shan Paradise, but most of the facts are right)

9. (NEW) The Militant Hippi AKA Boston Paul Re-Wrote DBT’s Article

I couldn’t resist! It didn’t take long. I just renamed his article, then focused the premise. I then cut out anything irrelevant or scathing.

Check it out here:


Titus Pance What is the point of the introductory (dis)qualification?….rhetorical question, please do not answer.
DBT I’m not sure what you mean. Thanks for your comment though



Timothy Tucker “two drunken guitarists singing Dylanesque songs”

Fuck yeah. We’re hanging out, getting drunk and folksy. You bet your ass we’re gonna be drinking and enjoying the community. I don’t think they were even drunk when they played yet, but I can’t be sure.

“the pedestrian folk singer who came on after the bluegrass trio […] talked too much about himself; I left mid-set.”

Pedestrian. I’m trying to figure out how you intended this adjective to come off. Did you use it because he seemed common and banal? He’s nothing special? He’s just one of the people you might see while driving or walking? Maybe it was because you saw him walking at some point during the night in an area where there were motor vehicles also active. Here’s something to put in your notes to avoid further embarrassment; using the adjectives “pedestrian” and “folk” in the same sentence is redundant. The set that you walked out on half-way through was the set that the whole event was put on for. The pedestrian folk singer that you walked out on was the act that the other acts were giddy about opening for. He’s the guy that people across Canada, Taiwan, and whatever other countries he’s traveled to sit by their Facebook feed and refresh his website to see when he might be coming back through their little town.

My non-rhetorical question for you is: why did you come to the event?

You clearly don’t appreciate what folk music is for. Maybe you were past your deadline for your blog. That’s fine. I understand pressure. Maybe I could suggest that next time you take your notepad to the local club or the local lounge bar. You might find more of what you’re looking for and perhaps more what your blog readers are more interested in.

If you understand within a year that events and music can be the glue that melds a community, I hope that you can make it to the Hobo event next year and I’ll be shaking your hand with a sincere smile.
Mikey James That’s the best review of those 2 drunken guitarists! I wonder who they are hahaha

Greg Niederhaus Very good points here. Extremely well said.

Mikey James Yeah! Tim is always on point!
Shaun Armstrong Nailed it


DBT You write an article with the vantage point of seeing hundreds of gatherings with thousands of folk singers over forty years, the best folk singers who started revolutions, not garden parties, and you will have a different perspective. Until then, happy Mondays.
Greg Niederhaus That certainly had nothing to do with me. I write about industry. Get your facts straight.


Timothy Tucker You didn’t answer my question.
DBT I went to do the same thing you did. Why did you go?
Rachel McPhail Todd Blackhurst: does this post belong in this group? It looks like it’s a promo for a clickbait blog site and not necessarily “information”.

On another note, thanks to all the admins of this group. Dealing with 5000+ members can’t be easy.

Todd Blackhurst Rachel McPhail – we have discussed this type of blog and although many people might feel the same as you, our guidelines do allow blogs that convey information about Taichung to be shared in this group. In that sense, it is welcome here. Now, whether or not this is accepted by the members, agreed with or whatever – that is for you the individual to decide. Click, comment or disregard. As long as the comments also fall within our guidelines, we will leave it alone.
DBT Thank you for protecting discourse
Rachel McPhail Thanks for the prompt response.
Rachel McPhail Discourse? Clickbait.
DBT I wrote an article for you to read. It comes from my blog. You are welcome to read it.


Greg Niederhaus I am amused. This guy David has the gift of the gab with no insight. His gab has grammatical errors He got blow-worthy drunk and rode his bicycle. That is illegal . He knows nothing about Paul, who he criticizes. Paul has degrees in Literature and Philosophy. This critical man David Barry Temple seems to Know more.He did not know that. He knows zero about a school through which Paul trained policemen in self defense. Nothing about Kungfu with a Master at the age of 6. David belittles military service when the man para-dropped into South America. I know Paul. Thoroughly. I know our community. Whoever you are, David. You are a big talker. You now have an opponent. You go try and build this, and come back with self criticism. Your rant is bull shit. Who are you? I see David as a negative foreigner in Taiwan who misrepresents those of us who really laid down the groundwork. David should leave. He misrepresents the ones of us who love Taiwan. And by the way, Where is his original 1500 word rant?
DBT You told me what I didn’t know and asked. I thank you. You have a big filthy mouth for insulting me. You will not have that chance again.
Cousin Avi You hear that, Greg? YOU have “a big filthy mouth.”   I was gonna add something but it appears I am too gentle and refined for such “discourse.”

Richard Wright Better than a purdy mouth. Luckily “you will not have that chance again.”

Greg Niederhaus I looked up “purdy”. (American short story teller. I suppose that was directed towards this original critic. For this David guy to come out and rip into what Paul and many others do to bring community together with minimal resources is asinine. Yes, we survive, yet, contribute to community… is the endeavor bad because the dude did not get Pizza? I enjoyed the samosas, pasta salad and fries. Cook’s show is not about himself. It is about the bridge-crossing between cultures he lives by, through music and travel. .Side note- The homes here are indestructible and prove so through nearly minimal earthquake damage. Wherever my filthy mouth appears here escapes me. This demented dude is a disgrace to the foreigner community in Taiwan.

Greg Niederhaus DBT de-friended me. Excellent. He cannot answer up. Down the rabbit hole he goes.


Kevin Diamond I was half-expecting some “then I blinked a few times…” and “I noticed that I swallowed more in the Dakeng area than usual” type sentences while I was reading this aimless, meandering rubbish.

Whoever told you at some point in your life that you ought to write a blog lied to you.

DBT You put your foot in your mouth defending a man I didn’t insult. How dare you?

DBT I am friends with Paul and I have no reason to believe our friendship and mutual admiration won’t grow.

Kevin Diamond I suspect there are a plethora of things you have no reason to believe.

Paul Davies For the record, I am not friends with people I have just met. Acquaintance is the better word.

Read more on ‘Friends’ here:




Greg Niederhaus “Purdy” as I looked up its meaning, means “American short story teller”. Dunno if that is directed at me or the author who tried to whinge about a community builder, struggling vendors, musicians

Anew Calling Hi David. Great article. You really captured the harmony and friendship involved in the Refuge gatherings. I bet you are looking forward to ‘Hobo Happiness V – Return of the pedestrian’. Your skill at writing has blown my mind – never have sentences felt so soul-less. What a wonderful pastiche. And the photography – absolutely everything out of focus – really develops a simpleton persona worthy of the greatest of parody writers. I love the character you created – a bumbling buffoon that would drink three whiskeys and forget to watch the act he came to review, whilst reviewing everything else. Genius. I am a writer too and I have tried to capture this idiocy before, but never as well as you. Keep up the good work.

Anew Calling


Queen Bicycle Race (Live 1978)


DBT I read your insulting comment and I had to smile. I refuse to believe your back-biting is reflective of “harmony and friendship” at Hobo Happiness 4.

John Davies i think everyone is entitled to an opinion…i don’t think one person should like something, or enjoy something, or feel a way about something because everyone else does….It is obvious this guy David, is ignorant of what paul, the refuge, and the community, that he and his lovely wife sandra, and of course all those people who take time out of their day to contribute, is all about…Im guessing David certainly isn’t on the gathering list. I also don’t think that a place needs to look like the ritz in order to have a fun time there…if that were the case, i would have had a terrible childhood, as i spent most my time in garbage cans looking for toys people threw away, cos dad couldn’t afford to buy them…However, everyone hates a critic, more so, because critics are usually those people who are good a finding faults in the things that others do, yet are almost completely incapable of producing anything of value….That being said, constructive criticism is different thing….constructive criticism, ought teach people where to improve….Unlike this David guy, whose criticism to me seems, very destructive, annoying, somewhat foot stompingly childlike in its delivery, and apparently adds nothing good to the community that all you REFUGEE’s work so hard in providing…Thank you to paul, sandra and everyone else who aids in my simple little pleasures… BEAR HUGs

DBT Despite the negative energy displayed by some of you, I never said I didn’t like the Refuge, the 4 Hobo Happiness, or Paul Davies; as I said in my blog, I left early because was hungry.

DBT In the Militant Hippi, no types of degrees were written. The singer you refer is my opinion. There was a small choice of meatless food. I didn’t see any bicycles. As for my writing style, if you don’t like it, don’t read it. Why are you trying to vilify me?!



Cousin AviDBT: You put Paul’s “degrees” in quotation marks, creating the implication that he has not studied or does not hold the degrees he claims.
You described the headline act as “Pedestrian” even while admitting you didn’t stay to see the show.
You shat on the performance of amateurs as a couple of drunks – rather a stark rejection of any notion of community or support for same.
You bitched about the food, for fuck sake.
You complained about the PARKING (Note to Paul – valets, motherfucker…valets!).
The foregoing notwithstanding, the article itself is a disjointed jumble of run-on, stream-of-consciousness sentences barely connected to the subject matter of the paragraph in which they’re imprisoned or each other.
Then, when people remark on your weak command of the language and condescending attitude, you retract everything you wrote and insist that you enjoyed the event and that you and Paul enjoy some great degree of mutual admiration…and, of course, everyone who remarks on the self-important, facile opinions you posted in public deserves to be insulted.
Negative energy, indeed. When you stop condescendingly shitting on an event you barely attended, didn’t understand, and stop holding yourself out as the preeminent judge of what constitutes good folk music, you may find the “energy” you get back a little more positive.
As it stands, perhaps you should stick to blogging. Posting reviews in a public forum like this – which is to invite response – doesn’t seem to be your strong suit when people don’t like what you write.

Rachel McPhail Kudos.

Titus Pance Hell hath no fury like a Daken hippie criticised. I nominate this thread for most ironic of 2015.


Paul Davies Hell hath no fury like a Daken hippie criticised…


Stay tuned.

Steve George I remember this guy – he’s the same one that wrote in his blog about how horrible it was that nobody bothered the Indonesian people that were chilling in the park.

DBT You’re the same
DBT You still can’t read.

THE MILITANT HIPPI:  I want to note that not everyone is going to like what we do at The Refuge, and we can certainly take criticisms/critiques. What most people are upset about – we at The Refuge Community included –  was that the ‘facts’ in this article were not facts, the information was not accurate, the writing style was amateur and the focus of the article was… well there didn’t seem to be any focus. It was also heavily opinionated and obviously not well researched.  I may re-write his article myself. you know, just for fun.


You can Follow the Militant Hippi/Boston Paul on Facebook:

You Might also like to read:

What is a Friend?

Published in: on December 22, 2015 at 12:36 PM  Comments (8)  
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Boston Paul’s 20 Year Taiwanniversary & How it Happened

It is indeed my Twenty Year Taiwanniversary!

Has it been that long? Twenty years? Time flies indeed… not like a bird, but more like a supersonic jet.

The last few days, as I realized that my Taiwanniversary was approaching, I began to reflect on how many people I’ve met over the years and all the things I have done.

I have learned so much.

It’s been an adventurous, fun, experience living in Taiwan – AKA Formosa – these last twenty years.

I’ve lived in Taiwan just under half my life… and what a whirlwind!

I’ve seen people come and go and come back again.

I’ve seen people, learn about themselves get confidence then spread their wings and fly.

I’ve seen the Island go from a handful of foreigners to a force to be reckoned with.

I was here for the very first presidential elections.

I’ve seen political turmoil. I was here when China shot missiles right off the shores of our Island Paradise to intimidate the government… and not just once either.

I witnessed Peaceful Protests by the Taiwan People in the Wild Strawberries & The Sun Flower Movements (and with great risk I played music for the Wild Strawberry Movement while the KMT police took my picture).

I’ve experienced Earthquakes Galore including the Big One in 1999, that not only shook the Island, but my very soul.

The list goes on and on… I might even write a book about it one day.

Today – January Seventh – marks exactly twenty years that I have officially lived in Taiwan.

For the Occasion, I decided to write about how I actually got here, the crossroads I encountered during my pre-Taiwan days and why I finally chose to make Formosa – Beautiful Island –  my home.

Taiwan: the place I hang my many Hats.

I have always had an interest in Asian culture and it started at a very young age. Perhaps my interest in various Asian cultures caught hold as early as six years old when I was taking martial art classes with my father then going to our favorite Chinese restaurant (owned by a couple of brothers from Hong Kong) where I quickly mastered chop sticks.
Perhaps this interest in Asian culture was perpetuated by my Uncle Ed when he married a Korean woman in the 1970s. She spent a lot of time with me when they visited as her English was not so good and she preferred hanging out with us kids who wouldn’t judge her.
Perhaps it was because I watched a lot of Bruce Lee (and other martial art) movies.

It seems that it was just a matter of time when I would find myself in a country where I felt at home.

I thought that matter of time would be in 1992. I took a month off during the summer and visited Japan. I had met a few Japanese friends at University who had moved back to Japan and invited me to visit. I was already trying to learn Japanese (on top of Chinese) and thought this would be a good chance to hone my skills.

I was also a big fan of sushi.

I was working full time around this time and going to school at The University of Massachusetts in Boston. I had been out of the military a couple of years and decided I would like to go to another country without aiming an M16 at anyone.

Japan was beautiful. I traveled all over. Kyoto was probably my favorite. I didn’t want to leave.

At the time, I was dating a Sociology major who also happened to be Taiwanese. We met in 1990 and her name was Chin-lan. We had taken a couple of Chinese literature classes together and got to know one of our teachers who was born in Beijing but had fled to Taiwan with her family as a little girl when the KMT lost the civil war to the Communists. Her name was Ms. Mao. She was an awesome professor and we became friends.

I took quite a few classes with Professor Mao and learned a lot from her. I decided to give up learning Japanese and focus on Chinese – as Chinese came much more naturally to me. This would help complete my core getting me a minor in East Asian studies.

I kept eating sushi though.

At the end of 1992, I had an opportunity to work as a police officer in Chinatown. The pay would be good and the job would be exciting. Of course the one main requirement was that I had to speak and understand Mandarin Chinese. The few polite words I had managed to learn from my then girlfriend, her friends and Chinese classes a couple of times a week would not suffice.

I spent a lot of time in Chinatown as I bought things I needed for a martial arts school I had opened … and I loved the culture. I spent so much time in the various restaurants and shops there, that many of the shop owners knew my name and would politely giggle when I blurted out a few sentences in Chinese. “Very good Mandarin!” they would say. I knew they were just being polite, but I liked the encouragement. I thought working in Chinatown would be perfect and took my Chinese courses that much more seriously.

As 1993 rolled around, I was still taking Chinese classes at Uni a couple times a week. One day, Professor Mao told me that if I really wanted to learn Chinese I should immerse myself. She suggested I take a summer semester at Donghai University in Taiwan. It so happened that Donghai and UMass were ‘sister schools’ so getting into their program should not be a problem.

That sounded good to me.

I enrolled in the summer program. I arrived in Taiwan for the first time in June 1993. I spent the summer with Taiwanese roommates at the dorm at Donghai.

I took classes with students from all over the world and who were far more advanced in the language than I was. They ended up making a special class just for me. I joked that I was in the special needs class and needed to take a short bus to school. In fact, it turned out not be a joke at all. Everyone there would laugh at the jokes teacher made in class. I would smile and nod my head and try to decipher what was being said.

I felt like a big stupid doofy head.

But, where some may have quit (and some did), I became that much more determined.

I met a guy named Mike Brennan from St. Louis. He was an artist, a bit on the quiet side and his Chinese was really, really good. He made things easier for me and helped me with my homework. We became friends.

I left Taiwan at the beginning of September, just in time to start taking classes again at UMass. I was asked by my employers if my Chinese was good enough to start working in Chinatown.

It wasn’t. I kept up my Chinese studies for another year.

As 1994 popped its head up in the dead of winter, I realized I only had a couple of semesters to go before I graduated. I could then focus on my career and hopefully get that job in Chinatown. Mike wrote me a letter (this was before Email really kicked in) and said he was thinking of another summer semester in Taiwan.

I thought, why not?

I enrolled in the ‘94 summer semester at Donghai and spent another three months in Taiwan. I felt much more relaxed than the first time I came. I had a little bit more Chinese under my belt. I felt more comfortable speaking –  and my listening had improved… as long as it was easy, polite conversational bits of conversation, I could handle it.

I also didn’t need to be in the Special Needs class anymore.

It was great to see and hang out with Mike again. He and I lifted weights and practiced gongfu together. Went out on the town (not that there was much of a town back then, but the tea houses were nice and the girls were pretty!), we studied together.

We sat on the library steps at the university often and drank a beer or two and talked about life, love, art and music.

One particular warm Taiwan night, we had moved from the library steps to a patch of grass in front of the library. We lay down, a bit buzzed from our drinks and continued chatting as we took in the starry night.

“What are your plans when you graduate, Paul?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I guess focus on my career. Keep learning Chinese and see how far that gets me up the ladder,” I replied.

“Is that what you see yourself doing? Being a policeman working in Chinatown?”

“I guess so. I have my girlfriend, we have a good life. I’m making lots of money…. why do you ask?”

Mike thought about this for a moment and said, “I just don’t see you being a cop… to be honest.”

“Oh,” I replied.

We were quiet for a few moments. We both got up and brushed the grass of our pants and shirts.

We had to be up at 7:30 in the morning for classes… so we shook hands and said goodnight.

I didn’t go to sleep right away. My mind was filled with uncertain thoughts of the future.

Could I live in another country? Could I be away from my family and friends?
Would Chin-lan come with me if I moved to Taiwan? Could I make a living here?

The next day I went to class and told my teachers about the possibility of coming back again next year and staying for a year or two. They seemed to think it was a good idea, though they asked if I wouldn’t miss my family and friends in the states.

For the rest of the summer semester I mulled it over.

Perhaps I could stay a year, maybe two… get the language down, then the world would indeed be my oyster!

I went back to Boston and tried to pick up where I left off before the summer. I trudged through my last semester at UMass and got my degrees. I worked, but not with the same gusto I had before. I didn’t care about climbing the ladder anymore… at least not the one I found myself on.

The night I decided to move to Taiwan would have been sometime in October ’94.

I took Chin-lan out to dinner and told her my plan.

It did not go well.

“One or Two years?! What the hell have we been doing then? You are basically telling me you’re breaking up with me, right?” she spat.

“No… I’m not!” I paused… “why don’t you come with me?”

“I don’t want to live in Taiwan! I’ve been living in America since the 6th grade! This is my home now.”

“Well, we can keep in touch. Visit each other. I just want to do something different… do you know what I mean?”

“No! I don’t know what you mean… we have everything we need here. We both have good jobs. We’re making money… we have a house, cars… why would you want to leave all this?”

“If I speak Chinese, I can work in Chinatown… you know. The reason I went to Taiwan in the first place.  This move opens up a lot of possibilities for me – for us – as a couple… don’t you see?”

She didn’t see.

We got into bed that night. No kissing. No cuddling. I don’t think either one of us slept. I stared at the shadows on the ceiling.

November came and went. Chin-lan and I grew further apart… then it was Christmas and we went to see my family.

Little did I know that it would be the last Christmas Dinner I would share with the whole family.

By this time, most people in my family knew that I was going to live in Taiwan for a while. I told everyone I would probably spend a year or two until my Chinese was fluent then come back and be a cop in Chinatown or perhaps even get a job in government since with my military training, degrees and Chinese skills, I could probably secure a pretty good career.

We had a good family gathering. Chin-lan and I agreed that we would try a long distance relationship and that two years would go by in a jiffy. This Christmas Dinner was also a Good-bye I’m Going Away Dinner.

I told my supervisors I would take a leave of absence and that I would come back fluent in Mandarin.

Then I packed up my stuff. Put a bunch of stuff in storage and said goodbye to my house and most of my friends.

On January 7, 1995, my family and a few friends saw me off at Logan Airport in Boston.

I arrived in Taiwan on Saturday morning January 7th and chuckled to myself how I could leave my country 24 hours previously and show up in another country on the same day.

That one or two years turned into five years.

The ten years…. then fifteen.

And now it’s been twenty.

The long distance relationship with Chin-lan didn’t work out. They almost never do, do they?

The leave of absence I took became a resignation.

I don’t have any regrets about this life changing move, though I do miss some of my friends and family.

Learning that some of my family – and friends – have passed away while I’ve been living in the Far East hurts indeed.
But I still believe that I made the right choice living here.

I have done a lot in Taiwan in these twenty years. Perhaps more than some do in a lifetime… but that’s another story…

…a story I’ll write – perhaps – when I’ve reached my thirty year Taiwanniversary.

Cheers Taiwan!

Cheers Friends from all over the world I’ve met over the years here in Taiwan!

And last – but certainly not least – much Love to my wife Sandra and my son Raiden – for making my life here in Taiwan that much more awesome.


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Throw Back Thursday: Boston Paul – 17 Years Old.

Just found this old gem!

Boston Paul before he was Boston Paul.

Boston Paul @ 17ish years old.

Paul at 17 years old Hanover Mass


Oh how the years go by!

This picture was taken about a year before I joined the army. The shirt I’m wearing is a Ronnie James Dio concert shirt. I believe the picture was taken in Hanover, Massachusetts. They called me Gypsi (and still do!)

That picture seems worlds away…  as I write from the other side of the world.

Times were different back then, I remember a Fuck Society Attitude, a Fuck God Attitude, and a I’ll Do What I Want to Do & I’ll Do it My Way Attitude.


I still got Attitude. Still forging through Life and doing it my way.

ButI know where I stand in the world.

I know I want Peace & Love in the world and struggle to bring that about at all costs, despite the Nay-Sayers, The Ignorant, The Negative Ones, The Jealous & Envious Ones, The Gossipers & Back Stabbers and the Fake Ones.   The more you rise up and the more well known you get, the more you’ll encounter these types of people. People who want to bring you down.

Keep being true to yourself, your friends and family…

Thank Thor & His Buddies that the Good Ones out number the ones listed above.

Happy Throw Back

Peace & Love


Paul Farrar

Thats the man I know and love….. Good Stuff!
Boston Paul

I don’t look like that anymore LOL… a lot less hair on the head and face.
Paul Farrar

I hear yah… Ive seen your rescent pics…. I just remember that Gypsy there…. That dude was my idol….
Yariv Silverhair Florentin

Hi Rambo
Andrew White

thats my memory of you Paul! “I love the 80’s”
Paul Farrar

The Gypsy was one of the most feared men of the South Shore………. The name (Paul Davis)-Gypsi, saved my ass a couple times over the years hangin with the wrong crowd…. I was a relative—–I was left alone…
Adam Hoole

That is AWESOME!
Roland Le Lopez

Dwayne Young

Bogan Paul….now Boston Paul..ha ha!
Caitlin Audrey Boyce

Isabelle Giguere

You look scary man! 😉
Robert Thé

That’s a very old looking teenager 😉 I prefer your current look!
James Tinker

You look like a groupie for the Grateful Dead. Either that or a heroin addict. Orperhapsanarc working undercover pretending to be a heroin addict. No no, I got it,abikernarc working undercover pretending to be a heroin addict who follows the dead in his spare time.

Robert Thé

One of the Freak Brothers at least 😉
Max Rock

ha… look just like “Zohan”! you know the adam sandler’s movie????
Steve George

ha ha. Nice one. I scrolled down to read the comments and unknowingly went to an unrelated comment: ” My only concern is that he’s looking a little Michael Jackson like now. His facial fur has been shaved, by the way.”
Viba Paul Gouriet

is this the before or after?
Kim Gillen-Macinnis

I remember those days….lol
Roland Le Lopez

hey boston ya know i grew up in encino ca, and used to play basketball with Ronnie james…nice
Kate Chang

wow !! 🙂 Nice!
Maako Ishikawa

Cheech & Chong’s lost sidekick, höhö..
Faye Blais

hehe i love it.
Joe LoSciuto

I remember the hair quite well!!

Janet Chen

Ha ha ha ha ha ~

Tricia Glasco

WHOA !! …thatlookstylewhateva u want 2 refer 2 is def in the here & now …what a trip Paul !! ..that’sXactlyhowi remember u !!didi say WHOA?!?!!

Sean Luo

“Can I borrow a cup of…”

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What is a Friend… Really?

Family Love Friend


UPON GRADUATING FROM UNIVERSITY WHERE they saw it fit to award me with degrees & certificates, my Journey Path brought me to a Wonderful Island Paradise.

New Country. New People. New Culture.  Taiwan is rife with friendly people – several of whom would eventually become my friends.

Within a few hours of stepping onto Taiwanese Soil, I secured employment in a very Taiwanese bar with a very American name called 9th Street Pub. It had a 30 foot Masonic Statue of Liberty out front that looked down on its Guests as they sauntered through the entrance.

My days working at The Pub are a bit of a blur, but a few synapses have fired up and I bring you these Reflections armed with hindsight & thought.

I was the only foreigner working at this disco pub. My duties consisted of dancing, drinking, occasionally mixing drinks behind the bar, and door person.

For most of the time, I was kept quite busy drinking with the patrons.

A diminutive but significant parley happened with a particular patron one evening, that after a considerable amount of consideration, I’ve realized greatly influenced the way I look at words in my Mother Tongue – particularly how the word friend is used.

That evening, after a few drinks with a group of business men, the loudest of them (with limited English skills) – surrounded by satellite sycophants – put his arm around my neck in passive aggressive fashion and introduced me to newcomers at our table.

My new friend!” he exclaimed.

While I sat there (my neck fixed in the crux of his forearm and bicep, suffering the tugs & jerks in rhythm to his repeated use of new friend) it dawned on me that the meaning of the word friend had lost its significance.

Growing up, I believed a friend meant extended Family. A friend was family without the blood ties… someone you could depend on any hour of the day – or night. Someone who got your back. Someone quick with advice or at least a little bit of sympathy or better yet empathy.

I asked my new acquaintance to lend me $1000 dollars.

He stopped jerking my neck and released me.

Said he, “1000 dollah? Why?”

Said I, “We are friends. Friends help each other in need. I also need a ride home when I get off work at 4AM. Can you wait for me?”

Said he, “But I leave soon. My wife want me home by 3!”

Said I, “Could you call your wife and tell her you are helping out a friend?”

Said he, “But she do not know who are you!”

Said I, “I am your friend! I need your help. Friends help friends.”

Said he, “But first time just meeting you!”

Said I, “Ahhh, so we are not friends then?”

Said he, “More whiskey!”

The terms Friend & Acquaintance are as confusing as the words Love & Infatuation. Interestingly, as I will explain in a moment, the words love and friend are related.

But I am obliged to digress a moment and offer a cursory meaning of Love.


Love At First Sight (LAFS)

We hear of people having LAFS all the time.

In one’s Lifetime, is it possible to have a few LAFSs?

My Answer is a simple but resounding NO.

Without delving too deeply into the semantics of love… no one loves anyone at first sight. It may feel that way, but often words are not a good medium to describe feelings… are they?

Indeed, when Paths cross and one encounters someone new, one may initially like what they perceive. After all, almost everyone exhibits their most favorable side – especially when a First Impression is involved.

Presented is the new acquaintance’s utmost politeness, wittiness, and even tastes in clothing – perhaps flouting their plume not unlike a peacock. We are attracted to the pretty wrapping on the gift-box. A good First Impression, after all, is of the essence in a first meeting, isn’t it?

When such charms are flaunted, it is no wonder we like what we first observe, but it is hardly love.

When Mammalian Urges & Impulses are ablaze, however, and those three words (those three words!) are uttered (often in the heat of passion) what is being experienced is not love, but infatuation.

Infatuation may fade as Love is nurtured, just as fat withers as a regularly used muscle develops.

When homo-sapiens meet for the first time and ‘make love’ how is there real love involved? Aren’t they just have a mammalian f*ck? Merely Copulating? Having a Mating Moment? How then is a joyous one night stand defined?

We don’t fall in love in those early moments, we fall in like. We are infatuated…or maybe just horny.

But we humans need words to convey our feelings. We search for words in our heads and often blurt out what we think we feel in that moment – often without considering how what we say is perceived by the listener.

When engaged in wonderful conversation, a first outing, sexual congress or chance meeting, who hasn’t felt Passion Fascination, Obsession, Fixation, Ardor, Excitement, Delight, Enchantment, Pleasure, Amusement, Delight (did I say delight already?), Enjoyment, Gratification… and so on?

With that in mind, I don’t believe in friends at first sight either.

 Which brings me to the use of:



Etymologically, a friend is literally a lover. The relationship between Latin amīcus “friend” and amō “I love” is unmistakable, as is the correlation between Greek philos “friend” and phileō  “I love.”

In English though, we have to go back about a thousand years before we see the verb related to friend.

As most of us know English has some of its roots in the Germanic.

The word frēond, is the Old English word for ‘friend’ and was simply the present participle of the verb frēon – to love.

The Germanic root of the verb was ‘fri-’ which meant ‘to love, or be affectionate to’.

We can still see the remnants of this verb one day of the seven day week- Friday or ‘day of Frigg’ is devoted to the Germanic goddess of love – Frigg.

Friendship is one mind in two bodies.  ~Mencius

Why is the term friend becoming a nonspecific word used simply for someone another may be acquainted with? What has caused the decline of the original meaning?

 One of the culprits is indeed any one of these social networking sites on the internet. I propose that these sites – though they have their advantages – have turned the word friend into a generic expression that is becoming ever more ambiguous.

The word friend is now tossed and bumped around the social networking lexicon and used without much thought about where the word comes from and how for a millennia has enjoyed quite a meaningful status… until now.



I read a comment on a more popular networking site that asked, “who de-friended me?”

I’ve heard statements like, “I’m going to unfriend him because he doesn’t like my posts..”

I would have LOLed if it wasn’t so painfully pitiful.

I’ve also heard it said that ‘so & so is a bad friend!’

Bad Friend?  What is that?

Forgive the digression while I get Oxy-Moronic:

 How can anyone have a bad friend? .
A bad friend – is this a serious joke?  Or is this a real fantasy some people have? When I hear this, my brain bubbles with silent screams so deafening, I can’t hear myself think. It’s a sweet kind of sorrow having a bad friend – like having a friendly enemy or a Holy War! The concept is just simply complicated in its simplistic complexity.  Having a friend who is bad is like having a war that is civil… that’s Military Intelligence for you. The Simply Confused users of the term bad friend should be shot with a Peace Keeper Missile while eating Vegetarian Meatloaf. For the term belongs in a TRAGIC COMEDY!


Ahem… Moving right along…

And what about these websites that post how many friends you have? Has it become merely a popularity contest? Or a place to find like-minded game players?

These social/connecting sites have a variety of functions. Some use it to meet new people; others play the ridiculous time wasting games & quizzes; for others it is a simple networking or PR tool… but how many real friends do you have on these social networking sites?

 Something I find especially entertaining – and significant – is when an actual long time friend or a family member adds me to their friends list.

The website posts that we “…are now friends” on my Cyber-space corner for all to see.

What was our relationship before that then?

Can it be stated – tongue in cheek – that no one is a friend until the Corporate Entity ( AKA they) says so?

 On the flip side, if someone whom I find interesting and knows some of the same people I do, adds me to their friend list, we are now friends though we have never met in person – and perhaps never will.

What is our real relationship then?

Are the masses self-esteem so low that they look to a social site to give them that warm fuzzy feeling a true encounter with a real friend may have given them – had the opportunity presented itself?

Friends, friends, friends.

Who needs them then with all the politics involved?

Perhaps it is because of the murky meaning and the looseness of the usage that many of us do not see eye to eye with what a friend actually is.

Thus the confusion.

The Buddhist Monks may be right: shave your head, give up family & friends and go meditate in a cave… Unless… unless we take back this word and give it its meaning back.

What is a friend?  A single soul dwelling in two bodies.  ~Aristotle


What the hell is a New Friend then??

So if it is agreed that we should take the word friend and give it its original meaning back – what then exactly is a new friend?

When does a friend become a friend?

When do we make the cross over from acquaintance to friend?

Cultivating relationships takes time. Trust must be built. If one is first an acquaintance, when does one become a new friend?  Perhaps I should have put the word New Friend in the Oxymoron section of this essay, eh?

Food for Thought!


                                  Friendship in B.C.E. Rome

Cicero (January 3, 106 BCE – December 7, 43 BCE) had his own beliefs on friendship.

Cicero was a Roman philosopher, statesman, lawyer, political theorist, and Roman constitutionalist. He is widely considered one of Rome’s greatest orators & prose stylists. He is now appreciated primarily for his humanism and philosophical & political writings.

Cicero believed that in order to share true friendship, one must have complete honesty & trust. Friends do things for each other without hope of remuneration. If one friend is about to make a mistake, the other should explain what is evil about the action, and help to do what is right.



The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use the words.
Philip K. Dick

 Has the English usage of the word friend gone the Path of NewSpeak in Orwell’s 1984?

For those of you unfamiliar with Orwell’s Newspeak, instead of adding words to the lexicon, words were taken away or meant to mean several things but taking away from the original meaning. The objective of Newspeak was to remove all shades of meaning from language. In Newspeak they took pride in the Destruction & Elimination of Words. Synonyms & antonyms were at the outset expunged. Adjectives were also some of the first to be eliminated.

Bad becomes ungood.  Something really bad becomes double plus-ungood.

Thus in Newspeak nothing could be bad.

 The underlying theory of Newspeak is that if something can’t be thought then spoken; subsequently, it can’t be considered.

How can we communicate the need for Freedom or organize a Revolution if we don’t have the words for either?

“The limits of my language mean the limits to my world.”
Ludwig Wittgenstein


If we cannot think it – at the very least in our individual Reality Boxes in which we all individually reside –then it cannot be.

 This seems to be what is happening to the English language.

Inaccuracies abound because often our random thoughts are inattentive, careless and inconsiderate (Public Education may be the culprit for that) thus the lackadaisical route English has taken makes it easier for foolish thoughts to flourish.

One hopes that this careless process is reversible.

 A word is just a sound with no meaning until it is given a meaning through experience, association and a general agreement throughout the general population.

There’s lots of gray area there, and within that gray area, we are mired in semantic confusion.

Perhaps we should keep Newspeak in mind when talking about the meaning of the word friend.



 The language of friendship is not words but meanings.
~Henry David Thoreau


Webster’s describes Friend as: a person whom one knows well and is fond of.

One can hardly describe a perchance brief interaction resulting in the beginning stages of a relationship – a real friend. Especially if one digs deeper than the dictionary.

The Meaning of Friend, Its Associates & Some New Acquaintances

I’ve listed the original meanings of words discussed in this essay. I have also constructed a few acronyms that may be useful in describing what relationships are and with hope that by using these acronyms we may keep the original meaning of our ancient, beloved words.

I propose we make good use of the these words in regards to relationships. I also propose that some of these social networking sites change their use of the word friend to one of the acronyms I have created.

But first –  the real meanings of Friend & Acquaintance:

Friend: A relationship with another person that may be best described as family without the blood-ties. An extended family member (which being an expat I know all too well).

Acquaintance: A relationship with someone that you may or may not eventually become friends with. You may know this person for years and are indeed acquainted with them, but still – hardly a friend.


And then the Other Terms:

Buddy:Someone you are affable with. A very good acquaintance. Someone you might participate in activities with. Examples: Golf Buddy. Fuck buddy.

Pal: 1680s, from Romany (English Gypsy) pal “brother, comrade,”

Mate: “companion, associate, fellow, comrade,” late 14c., from M.L.G. mate, gemate “one eating at the same table, messmate,”

 Frenemy: …Seriously?

Proposed Acronyms for The Internet:

 NetCon: Network Connection.  Relationships that have been formed on an internet networking site – this can be in the form of PR or your social site popularity contest; a relationship with another individual based on similar business interests that may not require the energy, time and devotion one would give for a friend.

InterBud: Internet Buddy. A relationship formed on the internet. You may meet sometimes, but most interaction is done via internet.

PIK: People I Know. This all inclusive acronym can be used for anything from Family Members to someone you met at a bar last night… I think I like this one best!

Should there be clear distinct definitions on how we define relationships in general? Family, Extended Family, Friends, Acquaintances? Buds? Pals?

What guidelines should we follow so that we know that we are all on the same sheet of music?




What gives value to a friendship is often the result of the friend – on a consistent basis – demonstrating the desire to do what they feel is best for the other. A friend, like a member of a Loving Family, shows sympathy, has empathy, is honest & truthful, even in situations where it may be difficult to be so. A friend then lovingly points out perceived faults with a willingness to discuss them so that they both may have the learning benefit from one’s folly; a true friend is not spiteful, and seeks mutual understanding.

 My hope is that one be careful how we use Words. Think about their meaning. Think about how others may perceive what you are saying. Though we all share a common accepted reality, still we are all wired slightly different and individually perceive reality slightly different than those around us.

What I might be feeling in my heart and understanding in my mind when I share a first kiss and express what I am feeling with someone is going to be slightly different than that of whom I am sharing that kiss.

 Life is so much better when there is Good Communication. Let’s bring the real meanings back to the words Friend & Love and save the World!

Peace and Love

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Democracy is a Farce.

A democracy is nothing more than mob rule, where fifty-one percent of the people may take away the rights of the other forty-nine.

~ Thomas Jefferson

Reagan Flag for Democracy is a Farce


Like Communism in China, Democracy in the United States (and much else of the World) is a Farce, a Fallacy, an Illusion.

One element of Democracy is the majority rule aspect which is often manipulated by those in Power to give those being ruled the feeling that everyone else is on the Band Wagon and you should be too.  It is impossible to ever know about what opinions or beliefs are of the ruling majority because the Corporate Media manipulates what appears to be status-quo or simply makes up information.

As we know, Information is Knowledge in the form of  Truth or Propaganda (and often a very murky, grey area), and Knowledge is Power that is a double-edged sword.

Think about that one for a minute.

On a small-scale perhaps Democracy can be achieved since it is easier for a consensus to be reached.

On a large-scale however, there are a few essentials that need to be present for a fighting chance of Democracy.

First: a responsible government needs to be in place. The United States – with an exception or two – hasn’t had a responsible government since before Woodrow Wilson (when incidentally Wilson signed America’s Economic Life Blood away in 1913 to the Federal Reserve which now prints fiat paper money at will and is arguably the cause of Amerika’s financial woes).

Second: there must be Constitutional Protections that are enforced by a responsible Government.

Uhm, Riiiiight.

Let us not forget when Christian Baby Bush called the Constitution a ‘goddamn piece of paper’ when discussing the Patriot Act (which made Amerika the UNfree) & amending the Constitution. Real respect and real responsible, eh?

Damn, we’re back at Square One.

As in Nazi Germany, the Tyranny of the Majority (when the Media is controlled, that is what it is) rip Liberties from the Individual; Gay Marriages, Drug Laws, Gun Laws, Abortion Rights (the list goes on) are good examples.  Democratic Power becomes impossible for Dissenting Individuals and are subsequently oppressed.

Third: an essential aspect of a Democracy are Competitive Elections. Observers from around the world often travel to other Democratic Countries to insure that Elections are fair both substantively & procedurally. If anyone remembers the FIF (Fiasco in Florida) with the election ballots making Baby Bush the Big Cheese, you know that this is most likely impossible – or at least extremely difficult – to achieve.

The FIF News made it out to the Masses and is still a topic of debate… but remember FIF was just what We the People heard about.

For every Morsel of BS that we hear about

There are Massive Chunks that go unheard.

Fourth: the Freedom of Speech or moreover the Freedom of Political Expression are vital in a Democracy.  However, when the Protesters are forced to adhere to The Rules designed to make it very difficult to get a variety of permits, then are confined to a specific area while their pictures are being taken by the Authorities, and then are subject to the  Corporate Media which films only certain incidences portraying Protesters to be small in number & a bit kooky – or ignores them completely, how is this Freedom of Speech & Political Expression?

“PROTESTERS! You can say what you want – but first give us money, do it in this small roped off area away from the Political Event and don’t cause any trouble!”

Fifth: the Freedom of the Press is essential so that The People are well-informed and able to make an ‘educated’ Choice.

As mentioned above, The People don’t get an Educated Choice or even and Educated Guess since the Corporate Media has the Monopoly on the cable wires & air waves and provides The Hollywood Grooming (how many politicians were actors before they were elected? Two come to Mind immediately), The Antics &  The Propaganda – AKA Information.

Read 1984 by George Orwell then watch the movie Wag the Dog to get a gist of what we are discussing here.

When the Republican Friendly FoxNews reports on an election, this is not bias?

If you watch a commercial, then the news you watch is most certainly biased.

It is a Media Circus, and while the Masses are watching the Trapeze Artists, the Bears on Uni-cycles, The Clowns, & the shifty eyed Mustachioed Orator; the hired pick pocket is working his Majik.


The president is a Puppet. It matters not the color, creed or political party of the man chosen to ‘lead’ the country. His strings are pulled by something much bigger & darker, and the Puppet Master is part of something much older & stronger.

It is imperative that The People think they have a choice in their country’s Political Journey, and they need a scapegoat when things go topsy-turvy.

The President  meets those needs.

The Corporate sponsored Government may throw a bone now and again (i.e. healthcare: YIPPEE … they should’ve been doing this a long time ago), to keep the masses docile while said Corporations engage in the plundering of our Planet.

Americans are debating the Health Care Issue while their government is taking the health care away (i.e. killing people) in the Middle East in the name of Freedom.

Truth? Truth is Information (often within a paradigm, but we can chat about ‘Absolute’ Truth at another juncture).

Information is Knowledge and we all know that Knowledge is Power. Communication is the sharing of Information and there can only be Communication among Equals.

The government does not treat its People as equals, but rather as mere Consumers that also drive The WorkForce  (they need slaves to keep the ‘economy’ going i.e.  keep the hierarchy comfortable).

And since Corporations control Government AND the Media; it can be safely assumed that anything -much of the Information spewed across the airwaves & into your average person’s living room for example – by the Corporate Media (foxnews/cnn) is Propaganda disguised as news (Edward Bernays wrote a book called ‘Propaganda’ in the late 1920s and it is still used as a bible for wannabe Mediacrats and Technocrats. Bernays was a millionaire during The Depression. And for those of you who don’t know, he was Sigmund F’s  nephew).

George Orwell has a lot to say about Government and Truth, and as I’ve mentioned before, his book 1984 eerily comes to mind. I know most of you have probably read it but I suggest if you haven’t read ‘1984’ in a while, read it again as I have recently; and put it into context.

It is disturbing.

Seek Truth but don’t get caught up in this Media Circus meant to divert the short attention spans of the Populace away from things that are of vital importance; and that is what do we do about Korporate Amerika raping & pillaging of ‘our’ Land & the Land of Exotic Peoples far away?

What is Democracy?

Is it a choice between 2 entities perhaps 3 as in the United States- the Land of the Free?

As you have been shown – hardly.

When asking a Child if they would like to eat some spinach, one may hear a resounding NO. Interestingly though, when you give the same Child a choice between spinach & green beans, they will often pick one… especially if they are hungry.

A variety of Corporations control who will contend for the position of CEO in the U.S. Government and subsequently what the President will do (Dick Cheney* is a prime example).

They are giving The Voter (The Child) a choice between two Entities.

This is akin to giving the Voter a choice between Dog Shit & Cat Shit.

The Voter scrambles to march in the parades, get up on the Soap Boxes, argue with members of their family, work-mates & friends about which Shit is the Better Shit.

“Hey! I heard that One of the Shits is the Lesser of the Two Evils!”

Look Pal, it’s still Evil and it’s still Shit…

Damn, perhaps if it was a bit of Cow Shit we might find a Psychedelic Mushroom on it.

Then we can wait about a half hour and stop Giving a Shit.

Power to the People.

We are not mere Mammals that need to answer to an Alpha-Male spewing his Nationalistic Rhetoric, marking his Territory with Patriotic Piss (i.e. a National Flag) and keeping the Masses in a perpetual state of Fear (that comes in all Guises).


I don’t know what One would call the political state of affairs in much of the ‘Democratic’ World.

But it sure the hell isn’t Democracy.

Perhaps it’s Dumbocracy.

Treat Others well and be Well.

political/country FLAGS:

Though born in the USA, that is merely the spot on Earth where the Spirits dumped me.

It could have been in India.

It could have been in Iraq.

It could have been the UK.

It could have  been Atlantis.

Point is, we are Earthlings first.

Think this way and your differences with other Cultures become Minuscule.

Which brings us to the use of Political Flags i.e. a Country Flag.

Appreciate the Land you were Born in and Live.

Appreciate the People that gave/give Your Land its Culture.

But remember…

A Flag is used much the same way other Mammals use Urine to mark their Territory.

In other words…

A Flag is merely a Mammalian Representation of Alpha-Male Piss.

Being an Earthling first diminishes the use of a Flag.

A Country Flag does not represent a People of a Land.

It represents the Entity (i.e. GOVERNment) that controls that Land.

*The Dick – AKA Richard Bruce Cheney brief history:

  • Dick began his political career as an intern for Congressman William A. Steiger.
  • Eventually worked his way into the White House during the Nixon & Ford administrations, where he served the latter as White House Chief of Staff.
  • He briefly served as Acting President of the United States on two occasions during which Bush underwent medical procedures.
  • In 1978, Cheney was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives from Wyoming; he was reelected five times, eventually becoming House Minority Whip.
  • Cheney was selected to be the Secretary of Defense during the presidency of George H. W. Bush, holding the position for the majority of Bush’s term. During this time, Cheney oversaw the 1991 Operation Desert Storm, among other actions.
  • Out of office during the Clinton presidency, Cheney was chairman & CEO of Halliburton Company from 1995 to 2000.
  • Dick as we all know, served as the 46th Vice President of the United States from 2001 to 2009 in the administration of George W. Bush and had/has much to do with The Wars in the Middle East where Halliburton (the corporation he was CEO of for at least 5 years)  is a major corporation making billions of dollars.

Food for Thought

Great Amerikans

Great Amerikans. A while back I happanstanced upon a post calling Martin Luther King a Great American.

The post continued: Feels proud to be an American after watching boycott because we have the power to change the system. Hats off to Martin Luther King for being a peace messenger!

Here is my little ranting rebuttal:

My contention is not with your post praising a Great Man, a Prophet of sorts, a spokesmen for and proponent of Peace. My contention is the correlation that is made with a Leader for Human Rights (albeit rights of Blacks within the Amerikan paradigm at the time – but still with Love, Peace, and Equality FOR ALL and still applicable NOW) and the (then? now?) ‘Amerikan ideal.’

Martin Luther King, Gandhi, and other such great men were fighting against the very entity you are espousing.

You talk about Martin Luther King (MLK) as  one of the best Americans and who influenced our great nation, but before I go on, what defines a ‘great nation’?
Why do we salute flags? Why do we sing anthems proclaiming victories over a fallen ‘enemy? Wasn’t MLK trying to diminish the ‘us’ and ‘them’ division?

Wasn’t he talking about Human Equality?

Does Amerika follow these ideals? Does Amerika embrace the great words spoken over the last 200 years by a myriad of great philosophers, philanthropist, Truth Seekers, Reformers and such that just so happen to live in Amerika?

Would MLK have stepped up (in different time periods and areas of the world) as a leader in civil rights and equality in South Africa? In Northern Iraq as a Kurd? In Palestine?

I believe he would have.

MLK did NOT step up just because he was an American; he talked not just about Blacks in Amerika, he talked about HUMAN RIGHTS and would probably (arguably) have done so in any time period, in any land.
We got to get off this mammalian, territorial, National Pride, us and them, Patriotic Bullshit kick, and begin focusing on the fact that we are all fucking Earthlings; a species that shouldn’t be mere mammals that fight over resources and spew their Alpha Male proverbial sperm & piss all over The Place like wolves, lions, skunks and bears; but have the ability to reason, think logically while being able to think abstractly thus inducing our creative capabilities to make this world – the only one we got – a better place.

There is only Communication among Equals.

He deleted the above sentiment under his post.

I wrote a Post Script/Addendum:

I never thought of you as being into censorship, bro! I hope you at least copied and pasted what I wrote on your wall to mull over at your leisure and think about it. Feel free to post on my wall with your sentiments.

If you are going to write statements like the one above be prepared to defend or discuss what you have written.

Deleting folks’ posts because you disagree with them is very George Bushian. It makes one ponder why you wrote it in the first place. I would still like to hear your rebuttal bro – if you have one, if not, we can just discuss hot chicks, getting drunk and rockNroll, it won’t change the world or make us any smarter, but it is fun…


These comments include a couple from my cousin Lisa (a self proclaimed genius.. I’ll let you decide) and my aunt Patricia (father’s side by marriage) and Nancy (an old church buddy who is a Christian Capitalist and uses Gandhi quotes to help/inspire her clients make more money):

Landis Shook
Well, I am proud to be an American. I don’t change my last name because my father is a drunk and use to beat up on my mother. That he doesn’t have the same values, morals or beliefs I do. I stand by America threw it’s trials and tribulations. MLK did his thing, god bless him for it and he was an American. If he was asked he’d have never denied that. To each his own point of view, I agree.

In closing, Hot Chicks, make me tired, Booze makes my body ache and Rock and Roll give me a headache (please send all 3 over right away).

Douglas C Rapier
You’re espousing some mighty marvelous thoughts that challenge the status quo and posing questions that insist on thoughtful answers.

Michael Turton
BP, seconding DCR.

Dwayne Young
B.P you are dead right!
I have to put my hand up and say i am guilty of being nationalistic at times…a lot of the time without even realizing!
I’m also guilty of spewing Alpha male proverbial B.S too.
(I am making an effort to reform….It’s a constant battle) 😉
It seems nationhood and religons were created to keep people divided.To keep the people bickering and distracted from the real agenda.
Peace sells but who’s buying?
It might be a cliche line but…United we stand divided we fall.

Chase Andre
Thanks for this, Paul.

Robert Thé
World citizen: many tributaries; many stories: one river; one heritage. Look beyond the hype of the Nation State. Time is in too short supply to be soakin’ up that poison.

Matt Bronsil
I love America. I love Taiwan. I’m very proud to say I love them both.

Michael T. Lane
If you lived on one side of a river and the people on the other side of the river killed your child because someone on your side of the river killed one of theirs a week ago and that had been going on for as long as anyone could remember….

peace and love seem to be the virtues of the safe. Until complete and utter forgiveness of even your most hated enemy exists in the world, it is unlikely any philosophy will take root. And until you can vividly imagine what you would do in the aforesaid scenario, you have no right to demand peace of any other.

As it is, we secure peace by preparing for war. That that is humanity’s psychological conclusion means we are little more than the monkeys that Paul affirms we are not. He’s right, but he’s also wrong. He’s right if we not only insist we aren’t monkeys but work to battle that “crush it” attitude we find welling up in ourselves whenever we are challenged. Otherwise, we will stay in this boat till the end of our days..

Chase Andre
then Michael, let’s all be willing to love and forgive even our enemies. Doing so will do more harm to their plight against us than ‘preparing for war’.

If no one will join me, then I’ll do it alone.

someone once said, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.”…
peace will never come from killing someone on the other side of the river.

You’re right, I am safe, and I don’t take that safety lightly. I do hope to say if that safety was ever removed, I would still stand resolved knowing what I know now.

For the time being, I think we need to remember we don’t have to be part of that “we” who operates in the vein of insanity.

Patricia Monteiro
You guy are just as bitter with your foul language and angst peace talk. It exposes a side of you that you’re not aware of yourself. And respect alway accompanies peace. Try it with “America” not “Amerika”

Nancy M. Ogilvie
Well said Patricia!!  The USA still affords you that right of freedom of speech (as long as you don’t incite riots with incendiary speech). Also, your friend is wihin his rights to delete whatever he wants from his Wall. By criticizing him, you are saying you are right and he was wrong. You essentially attacked him on his own Wall. I would have deleted your post too. :). Progress is never made by alienating and invalidating the others. A thought to meditate on: “be less intense about your intensity.”

Lisa Davis Owens
Yeaaaa Nancy! But dont 4get BP IS right and any of us that dont bow down to his superiority ARE wrong, just like the meglomaniacs that have controlled some governments throughout history.

Nancy M. Ogilvie
Ouch Lisa! Paul, have you read “power vs force” by David Hawkins?
I highly recommend.

Boston Paul
Greetings all and thank you for your posts. I have learned quite a bit about some of you, and about myself through your eyes. I am also getting to know how some of you feel about me, all much appreciated. I don’t have much time to answer or rebut them all, but I would like to address a few posts now to keep the dialogue going.

Auntie P., my apologies for the F word, in the heat of passion it does slip out and I don’t use the word in these posts but for emphasis. I will continue, however, to use the letter K in Amerika until the Fascist Patriot Act is repealed. If you could, Good Aunt, re-read my meaning about Alpha Males and ponder that a bit, please.

Lisa, I have no idea what you are talking about. If you cannot give a concise rebuttal & refrain from mudslinging, please don’t bother. Critique is good… and I welcome it, but your metaphorical description of me is a bit immature…
You of course are free to write what you want, I won’t delete it, but you are embarrassing yourself. You are a published writer Good Cousin, please write like one.

Nancy, thank you for your post. I would like to clarify a few things. First, some of the dialogue between my friend and I is missing. There are gaps; making the reading not what I would call ideal. Thus some of what I may have written could be construed differently than my original intention. The cons of print! You’re absolutely right about him deleting what he wants from his wall; that is his prerogative. Notice too, that I have left his name out because it is the issue – not him – that is (I feel) of utmost importance. I did not attack him personally. I am not about that. He is a friend I have known for a long time and we seem to agree on almost everything but politics.

What I did attack is the way we human beings are controlled and brainwashed in our thinking; I also addressed how we are not mere mammals, and yet though we have stopped swinging from the trees, we still can’t seem to stop acting like we should still be up there.

We are indoctrinated to rally around a flag (Nazis did and Americans still do) in public schooling, we seem to believe all the propaganda spewed from the cable wires in our living rooms, we rally around a political party like they’re demigods. I have heard the mantra. “I’m a well informed American!” What is that exactly? What is a well informed anybody? WHERE are they getting their information? More on this in future posts.

We waste out time on Mindless computer games, quizzes, and other BS; only to whip a post out that is not thought out, not researched, not sourced and then get indignant when someone who has researched, has thought out & has sourced (but is open to ideas, suggestions and links to prove or disprove statements made), makes a rebuttal or gives the proverbial wake-up slap designed to get one thinking outside of the box. I have been there. It hurts when someone makes you feel stupid, or not good enough, and one can get bitter about it and go on a verbal assault; one can simply ignore that someone; or one can take it as a good natured challenge and step up.

I choose the latter. Anyone who knows me knows that I disapprove of name calling in these dialogues. We must all agree to disagree, but whether you agree or disagree, it should be backed up… because we all have ‘opinion’ and we know what they are like. Show us where you got your information.

This is the Pursuit of Truth. If I am wrong, I do not get bitter as some on my wall have done; I REJOICE. This means I have acquired more Knowledge, and we know that Knowledge is Power.

Paradigm shifts are not easily embraced.

I only have time for Nancy at this juncture, but will be on once more before our weekend starts in Taiwan (which is generally filled with Music and lotsa LUV). I would like if we could stick to the subject at hand. If you disagree what I have posted in part or whole, don’t give me shit, we are not on the playground, write a thought out rebuttal and teach me.

Nancy one more thing. You mention Freedom. I had this discussion the other day with a friend and will repost what I wrote to him. There are a few tidbits thrown in there for your reading pleasure. Would love to have your thoughts.

Some of you have read this before. Skip it if you’d like. 😉


For me, it stands to reason, that present forms of Government are archaic; designed to lead the uneducated Masses. Though literacy is at an all time high (though waning in some sectors), the Enlightenment of the People is not. Indoctrination (i.e. public education) starts from 1st grade through high school on how to be good /robots/sheep. People feel this brainwashing is ‘just the way it is’… and parents perpetuate this vicious circle (the brainwashed are not in denial, they just don’t know they are brainwashed).

This is not the way it should be.

We talk about Freedom. Liberty. Human Rights. It is up to the People to live Free. The government cannot ‘give’ Freedom. We are Free. No one owns us. William Wallace when asked to bow down before ‘his’ King’ replied in effect, “I did not choose this King.”

It is up to The People to live Free regardless of Government. A government that ‘lets’ the People be Free? That very statement is an oxymoron bordering on paradox.
In the Words of Ol’ Ben: they that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.

And if I might add (at the risk of sounding pretentious) that they get neither as well. This is what I mean about the Patriot Act.

No one has died from a Terrorist attack in the States since 911, yet now they can bust into your house in the middle of the night on a whim, with no search warrant, because you ‘might’ be a terrorist. What they have found in these raids are not Middle Eastern men cloaked in a black cape and sinister smile with weapons of Mass Destruction (wait, isn’t that the reason we went to Iraq and Afghanistan? Where are the F%&*#N weapons then?), but some college kid growing a couple of plants so he and his buddies can have a little smokey smoke on the weekends (and they bust them anyway.)

Innocent until proven guilty is not the norm anymore, but the People accept it because they are brainwashed to think that their Benevolent Government is protecting them. Anyone working in a 9 to 5 job is NOT free. They are slaves.

I would like to get into the Money Illusion at another juncture.

How does one Serve one’s country, Fight for Freedom and Defend their Nation by invading an occupying another country (Amerika in Iraq for example)?   Isn’t that akin to protecting your house by raiding and occupying your neighbor’s house because you ‘suspect’ that he might have a really big gun in there somewhere?

I am glad that many of us are back in touch and having this dialogue.

Some of us have not seen each other since the late mid 80s I suspect, where in that time I ‘fought for my country’ by parachuting into other countries and doing what ‘we’ do best. Create Chaos and Confusion, Reek Havoc, Spread Disinformation, and when all else fails, kill the bastards. Don’t want to ramble and rant too much (as if I haven’t already), but the American People need to wake up and know that their government is not serving the Interests of the People. They are serving the interests of their Corporate Sponsors.

The president and his government do not run things, he is a  puppet. We want change? Then we build strong Communities with common ideals (say uhm… world peace, good health care and well rounded Community Education) and make the corporate governments non entities. Why? Because we are FREE to do so.

Again, thank you all for posting. Much Love.

Nancy M. Ogilvie
Paul, WOW–first of all I commend you on your passionate speech. When I read it, i feel the the full throttle of your energy, but the images in my head are messy and chaotic—like a montage of pictures and sound all overlapping one another. Pretty powerful vibration you got going on over there, but very chaotic. I can feel it from here! my is that you have the intellect and the passion to help raise the consciousness of our planet at a time when it is needed most. There is no accident that you are here now. But there are some things which are still missing and will hold you back in your mission. for starters, i would ask you to consider practicing detachment. In the third dimension in which we live we are governed by Universal Law–One of which is Law of Polarity. This means that everything exists alongside its polar opposite. True power comes from embracing both sides of anything–and seeing the blessings that exist in both the good + the bad, the right + the wrong.

Lisa Davis Owens
Dearest Cousin, here is another writing off the cuff because I dont have time to banter with you ar anyone else as I have books to write and publishers fighting over me & contracts to sort. After this I will desist. The 1st thing I want to say is that the reason you upset people is because you come across with passive aggresive superiority & arrogance, that puts people off. 2nd, there are people like yourself that enjoy never ending debates, & then there are those of us who see it as a waste of breath due to is never endingness, unless we agree with whatever the subject is. So if people delete your comments or walk away from you it just might be that they are not going to argue any more. Its kind of like the Bible reading Christians know that we are supposed to preach the word, but we are instucted to turn & kick the sand off our sandles and walk away if our preaching isnt accepted. Thus avoiding the “cramming it down the throat” reputation so many Christians have. Some people know when to walk away and some dont. 3rd, research…well I for one dont buy into research. As you like to preach, you cant believe what you read etc, well you believe things you read, you just pick & chose what you believe and what you dont. I on the other hand chose not to believe ANY of it. The way I see it is everything out there is propaganda put forth from one side of the subject or another and it is all a bunch of pelosi. Truth doesnt exsist any more. 4th, the Bible tells us to love our neighbor as we love ourselves, this is the only way to peace, and as long as there are ppl out there fighting for control or trying to outdo the jones’, peace will never happen & theres nothing you or I can do about it. I chose to accept the fact that the world is a big place and no matter what efforts are put forth, there is always someone to spoil it for the rest of us therefore peace is unobtainable. Which brings me to number 5…things are what they are so I will do what I can to change the things I can. For example, the reason the troops are in the middle east are irrelevent (MY NOTE: ???) since there is nothing I can do to change it, but what I can change is a soldiers life by showing him/her that I care about them as a person. I care and feel for the sacrifices they have made, no matter their reason for making them. Another example, an old friend of ours is in prison for murder, I cant change the fact he took another human beings life, nor the fact that he has to serve 35+ yrs in prison, but what I can do is write to him and let him know that I value the friendship we had & show him that life is to be valued. 6th, with all your knowledge & wisdom you should know to show respect to people even if they dont share your views.
Now, I dont want to cram my views down your throat, so I will desist.

(MY NOTE: You may not be able to tell from reading the above post, but Ms. Owens is a published writer).

Michael T. Lane
what is the polar opposite of a Twinkie? I’m enjoying the posts….I agree with you Paul. The powers that be have a vested interest in keeping people…I wouldn’t say stupid, or even misinformed…my opinion on that is pretty much as yours, but I would say of more import to governing bodies, they need people manageable…creating in the minds of the mass the same predictable responses to the same stimuli is the science of herd management. Most of the things that seem to irritate you about the American system, to me at least, stripped of any judgement, seem to have herd management as their goal.

6 billion+ on this planet and rising….either keep em at bay with guns or, if you’re clever, convince them to police themselves. Trick them into thinking it’s their individual choice that leads them to want the exact same thing as everyone else. The mental formulations that seem most easily manipulated are fear and its offshoots….a scared animal is the easiest to predict and thus control.

Nancy M. Ogilvie
Michael—a banana 🙂

Boston Paul
Lisa, you still are not addressing the main (relevant) topic(s) of this thread. It’s all good. Re-read previous posts, perhaps revise what you wrote, delete and write again.
It works for me.
But go ahead and desist if you’d like. 😉

Nancy, thank you for your sentiments. I will answer your questions & respond to your comments asap… but thank you for the insight. I get to know myself better everyday. Sometimes it’s frightening..

Feel free to comment on any post made in this thread (esp those topics of actual political nature in preference to those of a personal nature… but it is all good). Would love to have your thoughts. Don’t hold back.

We can agree that we want Peace&Truth. We just got to figure out a way to get Peace & Truth working together.

Cousin Avi
Thus far, most of the passionate posts here suffer from a particular form of myopia. “Herd mentality”…corporate masters…government puppets…(I’m shocked no one has said ‘Sheeple’ yet) versus “Research (and thus, one must suppose, truth / knowledge) is impossible because you can’t know what to believe” – as if, for example, the collected works thus far, most of the passionate posts here suffer from a particular form of myopia. “Herd mentality”…corporate masters…government puppets…(I’m shocked no one has said ‘Sheeple’ yet) versus “Research (and thus, one must suppose, truth / knowledge) is impossible because you can’t know what to believe” – as if, for example, the collected works of biology, chemistry and physics are somehow equivalent to Answers in Genesis.

The reason there are American troops in the middle east is anything but irrelevant, nor are the consequences of their presence there, regardless of whether you support or decry the fact.
The current yammering nonsense over health care reform is a crystalline example of what happens to reasoned debate in the face of ignorant certainty…and ignorance is by far the most damaging element.

Chomsky said, “There’s a really simple way to end terrorism – stop participating in it.”

The same might well be said for arguments that rely on false premise, reductio ad absurdum, ad hominem, post hoc ergo propter hoc, and all the rest of the weak crap people get up to when they’re trying to present a case in the absence of solid evidence.
The evidence is out there – hiding amongst the ginned up crap floated for the sole purpose of jamming up the tide. I don’t necessarily blame anyone for being distracted by the flotsam and jetsam, but it bothers me when folks assist in multiplying it.

There are facts, and there ARE qualities of reason. Abandon either at your peril.

Michael T. Lane
people find facts to support what they already believe…that you think you are somehow above it all is your own form of myopia…if society and the march of history had objective facts that led to objective conclusions, it would be hard science.

your need to condescend anyone who uses a linguistic sign you have a problem with shows more of an interest in catching people up in words and not, as you say, getting to substance.

if you don’t like the word “corporate master” what of it? You know what the person meant. It was only about 400 years ago that people were kneeling to real masters all over the western world, so if someone evolves the term to mean those that seem to have extended the absolute power of the monarchs, how is that proof of poor reasoning or anything else?

if you don’t like the words herd mentality, don’t use it. All language is subjective and people use it to paint the vision they want. All language is propoganda, yours included. Kill all the lawyers.

Rachel McPhail:

Paul, it seems to me that you want to be vindicated, or at least to set up a soapbox to pontificate from. That’s the only reason I can think of why you felt the need to post your public spat AGAIN. You wanted to pick a semantic fight because a man posted that he has a hero who made him believe it is possible to change the system. Guess what, Paul? It IS possible. Rosa Parks, MLK, and Gandhi proved that. And they are ALL products of their place and time, products of British/American separate-but-equal social and educational systems who would/could not have arisen in other countries. Most of us who read what you say are generally not fools or deluded people; we know that our governmental systems are far from perfect. We believe we have come a long way, but we know we still have a long way to go. You freely criticize the beliefs and positions of others, but you rarely offer a workable alternative. Sniping and grousing is not a workable plan for the future.

James Tinker

It seems to me that Paul’s post had absolutely nothing to do with Martin Luther King changing or not changing the system. He criticized the IDEA that Martin Luther King was able to change the system because America is great.

From the original post….
BP: My contention is not with your post praising a Great Man, a Prophet of sorts, a spokesmen and proponent of Peace. My contention is the correlation that is made with a Leader for Human Rights and the ‘American ideal.’

Martin Luther King was responsible for some great changes, but the changes were not made possible because he was in America. He could have been anywhere. He saw a problem with the place he was at, and he decided to fight the system.

I put IDEA in caps because I think it important to note that Paul was criticizing an idea, he wasn’t criticizing the person. If you’re not open to others challenging your ideas and beliefs, how can you grow as a person?

Boston Paul: Actually Rachel, it was simply because my facebook wall gets full quick and I wanted to keep the dialogue going before it got lost in the ‘older post’ void. Stop thinking so much sister… actually don’t stop thinking too much 😉

Thanks for the posts y’all.


Boston Paul: Rachel just re-read your post… did you even read the thread in full? My sentiments and what you are posting now do not correlate, but it could just be the booze and slight hang over creeping up on me.



Published in: on March 22, 2010 at 2:53 PM  Comments (4)  
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