In remembrance of memorable day of dedications, I reprint this message (adaptations my own thoughts) with excerpt from "Never A Greater Need’ by Walter Benton
“The Dead Are On The Air Tonight
CAN YOU HEAR US? HELLO. . . .CAN YOU HEAR US?
It is one minute past time. It is quite here, facing the night, the dust is falling with no color whatever and no sense to anything.
We arrived in heavy traffic (converging from the earth’s four corners) and entered the infinite dimensions as the blue enters the night.
CAN ANYONE HEAR US?
We found no hallowe’en world with lean shapes and lantern faces. . .no Tartausu nor Ul tima Thule—we found no evergreen land at the rainbow’s end: no mead and manna and broiled quail on wing to eat and angel-girls to lay—no wailing by the Stygian shore nor singing in the stars.
Nothing to compensate the meek or level the proud, to reward the good or punish the evil—to enrich the disinherited or impoverish the landlords of the earth.
We found nothing, no one, nowhere, because the way it happened was:
suddenly we reached an immensed edge.”
I viewed a funeral. It was not of a poet of metaphors, or philosopher, soldier, ex-president, my mother, father and child who had slipped through the gates of eternity. It was an individual life as I. A dreamer who dreampted dreams of Being, not becoming. There were no speculations of what happened before they became consciously aware. No theorizing about God’s intention concerning creation, or theories of why creation is, or their being came into the consciousness of the one’s who first attended their emergence into this dimension of man; then their upbringing and educators; and their climb into the consciousness of neighbors, peers, and sometimes to the world atlarge.
All their achievements came upon the hopes of their dreams; of knowing they had the power within them to achieve far more for themselves and community, state, nation, and the world, which are the people of dreams themselves, not speculators, or followers of the dead. Julius Fann, Jr
“What say the impresarios. . .the commetators? Yes—what of the thinkers of our thoughts? The speakers of our lines? The prompters? Who are the sponsors? Who are the statemen-to-be?
The spotlight darts about like a lost pup sniffing at every heel. The spotlight wanders like a drunk amnesiac.
They are looking for a slogan, they are looking for a title…they are looking for a cause. They are casting now. The props are ready. the box office is manned.
Darkness whispers behind the curtain. Fear watches from the wings with catching eyes.
Ominous music
Someone smells smoke.
Somebody dies. Somebody dies. Somebody dies. . .
NO SPECULATION, THEORY, NO PHILOSOPHY, NO PSYCHOLOGICAL THOUGHTS, NO SUPERIOR INTELLECT, NO IF GOD, OR WHAT IF GOD, OR THE REASON GOD CREATED THE UNIVERSE, NOR THE ???HAS ANY MEANING NOW!!!
SUDDENLY WE REACHED AN IMMENSED EDGE.”
You are never alone!!!
Never give power to anything a person believes is their source of strength - jufa