Mill Valley at New Ruskin College
www.NewRuskinCollege.com
Lecture Notes: 07-06-05
Mill Valley
There is a police officer in Mill Valley who has been asking local children to hit my car as they walk by.
Apparently the plan is that I will react to the provocation and then he hopes to step in and arrest me for abusing the children.
One question. What if the man in the car gets out and shoots several of the children before shooting himself?
Using children? How could anyone with an ounce of sanity think this a good idea?
The policeman hides near by when the children pass by. Of course he is armed. But why take any risk?
Then too, there is the question of entrapment. You think the man is suspicious, so you set up an altercation to try and arrest him. What a plan! Create a potentially dangerous situation with several children then pounce, gun drawn . . . your tax dollars at work. (Counter Strategy: Strategy? What strategy? I am going to be dead in a few days. What do I care what the little brats do to the car? Key it for all I care. I am dead already. I do not respond.)
I used to like to think about all the people I have helped over the last 25 years. I used to imagine them hearing my name and saying, “Hey, that’s our insurance adjuster! Remember . . . after the fire . . .” or “. . . after the accident . . .” or “. . . remember he drove us down to the motel after the fire . . .”
For example, I worked on the earth movement claim for a former mayor of Mill Valley. The elderly couple had built a second story on their hill side home, (all homes in Mill Valley are hill side homes), and they had for a number of years been adding concrete pillars, steel cables, huge anchor blocks, all in an effort to keep their home from falling down the side of their hill.
These are exactly the people that Alan Watts used to criticize. “They build these geometric grids of streets, all perfectly straight and regular, and they insist on imposing this geometry everywhere, even here in Mill Valley where it is very hilly; there is an 800 meter mountain here. But hills are not straight and geometrical, they are curvy. And things on a hill naturally want to go down the hill. So all their homes are sliding down the curvy hills.”
But these are just the kind of people who have been elected mayor. These are the kind of people who control the power. And their home is sliding off its foundation. I got the assignment because VIP, (former mayor), and because earlier that day the City of Mill Valley had red tagged the home; meaning that they had to leave at once; an emergency; but the elderly couple refused to leave. The City Manager asked us to help persuade them to leave. So I was given the task.
I met with them and explained the legal situation, (this was after Garvey but I do not remember which Garvey was in effect, (there were three Garvey decisions from the California Supreme Court, (Mr. Garvey being a U. C. law professor, (of course it is just this multiplicity of rulings which causes the law to be regarded as unreliable by the layman, including laymen who run insurance companies.))))
I took their statement after obtaining their signatures on a Non Waiver Form. Obtained engineering reports. Searched the building records. Took inventory. Wrote and obtained estimates . . . came to know the former mayor and her husband, their children, the contents of their home, the history of the building and their lives in that building, . . . we established a good working relationship. I helped.
And yet . . . now I am looking at a Mill Valley policeman crouched down behind some parked cars, watching, and some children are walking past my car hitting it as they pass . . . and I do not respond . . . perhaps I should?
When Ron Owens was laughing on the radio about people not bathing the same day, my dispatcher called me into the office so he could smell me . . . that bitch (Owens’ wife?, mistress?) at Gymboree had complained. The night before she had had me waiting at a bar for 45 minutes at 8:00 pm, this an ending to what was at that point a 12 hour day, and I do not think it was an accident. I think she and Ron Owens deliberately kept me waiting that night; and then worked up the idea to complain to the dispatcher: ‘He smells’. (You know? “Stinking Jew!”(How do you like that Gentile? How do you like being called . . . etc. etc. (Ah, revenge.))) I did not respond.
That idea probably originated in Ron Owens’ mind when a few days before I had stopped going to a local health club after a homosexual harassed me in the locker room. The previous day Michael Weiner (a.k.a. Savage) had gone on at some length during his program describing how he had taken the Larkspur ferry and wondered up to the windows of the health club and looked in at the people working out inside . . . . Then the next day after the incident with the homosexual, (I had said nothing but indicated by my manner that I was not interested and the man said, “Hi!” and wondered off), but apparently he, or someone watching had reported back to Ron Owens, for that morning Ron Owens was on the air advising the proper way to deal with homosexuals in a gym locker room . . . I did not respond.
When Michael Weiner stole my notebook from the Colonial Motel, and the San Rafael Police were following the “Colonial Motel Suspect,” and Michael Weiner was reading from the notebook on his program, and then Mrs. Jack Swanson, and Bryan Wilson started talking about it, and then all the other on air “personalities” joked about what I had written in my notebook, . . . and when the three men followed me into the theater, and one of them started walking back and forth in the isle behind me . . . I did not respond . . .
When Frank Blaha at GAB Robins gave me assignments in Clear Lake and others in San Francisco; gave me twice as many assignments as the other adjuster, (the gentleman from Fiji, who had no prior experience as a property adjuster), and when the GAB secretary went through my briefcase, and even when Don Imus started reading my emails that I had sent Frank Blaha . . . I did not respond . . .
Surrounded by my enemies . . . when two weeks ago Mengus advertised for the insurance adjusters and ignored my calls . . . I did not respond . . . But these are the people who win at life . . . Are elected mayor. . . The rich and powerful . . . they control all the levers . . .
What can we do?
After the Red Comedian (he would want me to use his name) started making references to my sister and a place near Mill Valley called Green Gulch Farm a Buddhist community I went there to investigate. Alan Watts had had some connection and I was interested in seeing if there was anything left, an echo perhaps.
They had a group meeting called the Alan Watts Society or some such. So I went and listened to a talk by a “street priest” who was accompanied by his associate, both homosexuals. There were two English girls who were visiting the area, and studying Buddhism I suppose. And I made the company five.
After the talk about Alan Watts the “street priest’s” associate, launched into a long and frankly bizarre monologue filled with innuendo and dull invective, hissing with contempt and only slightly disguised hate, and ended his performance with something to the effect . . . “Oh, sure, you can be a big businessman in . . . in . . . insurance, drive a big fancy car, (I drove an old Thunderbird at that time), think you have everything . . . advise Presidents about war, and, and . . . write a lot of letters to the Senate . . . but then you realize that you are nothing, . . . and you come here to study Buddhism and atone for what you have done.”
There was a moment of silence then the English girls burst in to laughter. Then recovering, one asked, “Are you serious?”
God bless English girls.
The “street priest” then said later that he was working on “laser disks” with Alan Watts’ lectures. I did respond to him. But he denied knowing anything about my letters discussing the role of laser disks in education.
I remember the night was foggy and cold. Drizzly. The smell of Eucalyptus.
Later, years later, I one day decided to stop visiting Green Gulch Farm in Mill Valley. It struck me all at once that from the very first night I visited the place to that very moment there had been this hissing dishonesty . . .
There is a story about a famous student going to visit his famous teacher. He found the teacher “surrounded by a thousand angry barking female dogs.” I told Yvonne that I finally understood the meaning of that phrase after visiting Green Gulch Farm.
Reb Anderson the one time abbot said mildly once, that he knew sometimes people misbehave but if one tries to intervene they will just be worse. Doing by not doing.
So the kids pass by. The policeman waits a few minutes then leaves. Doing by not doing.
The former mayor of Mill Valley?
She ended up suing the insurance company. The company called me to a big downtown law firm to meet with the company’s attorney and the “senior regional adjuster” from Los Angeles who had taken over the file. They wanted me to call the former mayor and make a ridiculous low ball offer. Just made up.
I called the insured and with the attorney and the “senior adjuster” listening in asked if they had obtained the estimates that we had previously agreed they would? “No” was the answer. “Why not?” “We want you to make an offer,” was the reply. “But how would you know?” I challenged, “if you do not get an estimate?” The attorney and the “senior regional adjuster” looked at me like I was crazy.
The conversation ended like that. They would, as had been agreed before, obtain an estimate.
I was excused.
The attorney and the other adjuster, my “superior”, had wanted to take advantage of the good rapport I had established with the dear old couple and try to settle the claim for a low ball sum.
I did not.
Later I learned that they claimed that the other adjuster did make a low ball offer and sued for bad faith. I gave a deposition.
Do you suppose the insurance company thanked me for keeping them out of trouble? Did that attorney put in a good word for me? I had a long career with the company after that? Do you think so?
But I thought this is how we had all agreed to work together? No?
No.
What amazes me now is how shameless you all are. Chris Matthews actually wanted people to know that he knew about all of this. As did Phil Matier at the SF Chronicle and that bald fat dope with the Sacramento Bee, and all the people at KQED, KGO, KCBS, KSFO, and now KNEW. They actually want people to know that they know what Michael Weiner and Don Imus and Ron Owens and Mrs. Jack Swanson and Michael Krasney . . . what they and what all of the rest did to me over these years . . .
CENCAL and GAB Robins and Farmers have all visited.
Scott Bobro and Dean Sodos have actually entered their names along with McGurk and Imus. (Now that Imus has been taken off the local air he has stopped entering his name.)
You want people to know how dishonest you are. (Like that Mill Valley policeman crouched down behind the parked cars. ) You are proud of yourselves. And more! You justify yourselves with all those rationalizations: your victim status, or because I misspelled a word, or that I am poor, or just that I have been targeted by others, that itself is enough for you. Amazing.
This is what amazes me.
That “street priest” is proud of his dishonesty too. Street Buddhism. The ‘street’ is his rationalization.
“When will we say enough is enough?”--- Gene Burns
Soon Gene Burns, very soon.
ps Over a year later, I explained to Yvonne that I had come to understand the meaning of “a thousand angry barking female dogs”; the following week I attended a talk at Green Gulch Farm by a young woman. In her talk she quoted “the old Latin saying: ‘Dogs bark at strangers.’” I wondered . . . Yvonne? . . . Yvonne! --- but I wasn’t a ‘stranger.’ By that time I had been going there for over a year . . . but then perhaps I have always been a stranger . . . someone should study this: failure to connect and suicide.
Note: 08-01-05
In retrospect I now see that the Mill Valley Police already knew that the target of their ‘set up’ would not harm the children. Of course! They had already visited this site. And now that their attempt has been exposed their following me, the stakeouts, the attempts at entrapment have all stopped. Who set them up to it? Michael Weiner? Yvonne? Peter Coyote? Jack Swanson? Members of the San Rafael Police or Marin Sheriff? We will never know. Obviously some very powerful people would like to discredit me. Would like nothing better than for me to commit my “protest” under a cloud, with a “criminal record” involving “children” . . . etc. What could be better! “Oh, that fellow,” they will arrogantly scoff, “He was caught by a Mill Valley Policeman! Caught him red handed . . . they did . . . fortunately a Policeman was just happening by . . . He was attacking children! Can you imagine? What a monster. Deranged! He was unemployed you know. Who will believe a word he has written? . . .” etc., etc.
But some of our visitors would have known the truth ---- but would you have told anyone? Even in death will you still keep your silence?
www.NewRuskinCollege.com
Lecture Notes: 07-06-05
Mill Valley
There is a police officer in Mill Valley who has been asking local children to hit my car as they walk by.
Apparently the plan is that I will react to the provocation and then he hopes to step in and arrest me for abusing the children.
One question. What if the man in the car gets out and shoots several of the children before shooting himself?
Using children? How could anyone with an ounce of sanity think this a good idea?
The policeman hides near by when the children pass by. Of course he is armed. But why take any risk?
Then too, there is the question of entrapment. You think the man is suspicious, so you set up an altercation to try and arrest him. What a plan! Create a potentially dangerous situation with several children then pounce, gun drawn . . . your tax dollars at work. (Counter Strategy: Strategy? What strategy? I am going to be dead in a few days. What do I care what the little brats do to the car? Key it for all I care. I am dead already. I do not respond.)
I used to like to think about all the people I have helped over the last 25 years. I used to imagine them hearing my name and saying, “Hey, that’s our insurance adjuster! Remember . . . after the fire . . .” or “. . . after the accident . . .” or “. . . remember he drove us down to the motel after the fire . . .”
For example, I worked on the earth movement claim for a former mayor of Mill Valley. The elderly couple had built a second story on their hill side home, (all homes in Mill Valley are hill side homes), and they had for a number of years been adding concrete pillars, steel cables, huge anchor blocks, all in an effort to keep their home from falling down the side of their hill.
These are exactly the people that Alan Watts used to criticize. “They build these geometric grids of streets, all perfectly straight and regular, and they insist on imposing this geometry everywhere, even here in Mill Valley where it is very hilly; there is an 800 meter mountain here. But hills are not straight and geometrical, they are curvy. And things on a hill naturally want to go down the hill. So all their homes are sliding down the curvy hills.”
But these are just the kind of people who have been elected mayor. These are the kind of people who control the power. And their home is sliding off its foundation. I got the assignment because VIP, (former mayor), and because earlier that day the City of Mill Valley had red tagged the home; meaning that they had to leave at once; an emergency; but the elderly couple refused to leave. The City Manager asked us to help persuade them to leave. So I was given the task.
I met with them and explained the legal situation, (this was after Garvey but I do not remember which Garvey was in effect, (there were three Garvey decisions from the California Supreme Court, (Mr. Garvey being a U. C. law professor, (of course it is just this multiplicity of rulings which causes the law to be regarded as unreliable by the layman, including laymen who run insurance companies.))))
I took their statement after obtaining their signatures on a Non Waiver Form. Obtained engineering reports. Searched the building records. Took inventory. Wrote and obtained estimates . . . came to know the former mayor and her husband, their children, the contents of their home, the history of the building and their lives in that building, . . . we established a good working relationship. I helped.
And yet . . . now I am looking at a Mill Valley policeman crouched down behind some parked cars, watching, and some children are walking past my car hitting it as they pass . . . and I do not respond . . . perhaps I should?
When Ron Owens was laughing on the radio about people not bathing the same day, my dispatcher called me into the office so he could smell me . . . that bitch (Owens’ wife?, mistress?) at Gymboree had complained. The night before she had had me waiting at a bar for 45 minutes at 8:00 pm, this an ending to what was at that point a 12 hour day, and I do not think it was an accident. I think she and Ron Owens deliberately kept me waiting that night; and then worked up the idea to complain to the dispatcher: ‘He smells’. (You know? “Stinking Jew!”(How do you like that Gentile? How do you like being called . . . etc. etc. (Ah, revenge.))) I did not respond.
That idea probably originated in Ron Owens’ mind when a few days before I had stopped going to a local health club after a homosexual harassed me in the locker room. The previous day Michael Weiner (a.k.a. Savage) had gone on at some length during his program describing how he had taken the Larkspur ferry and wondered up to the windows of the health club and looked in at the people working out inside . . . . Then the next day after the incident with the homosexual, (I had said nothing but indicated by my manner that I was not interested and the man said, “Hi!” and wondered off), but apparently he, or someone watching had reported back to Ron Owens, for that morning Ron Owens was on the air advising the proper way to deal with homosexuals in a gym locker room . . . I did not respond.
When Michael Weiner stole my notebook from the Colonial Motel, and the San Rafael Police were following the “Colonial Motel Suspect,” and Michael Weiner was reading from the notebook on his program, and then Mrs. Jack Swanson, and Bryan Wilson started talking about it, and then all the other on air “personalities” joked about what I had written in my notebook, . . . and when the three men followed me into the theater, and one of them started walking back and forth in the isle behind me . . . I did not respond . . .
When Frank Blaha at GAB Robins gave me assignments in Clear Lake and others in San Francisco; gave me twice as many assignments as the other adjuster, (the gentleman from Fiji, who had no prior experience as a property adjuster), and when the GAB secretary went through my briefcase, and even when Don Imus started reading my emails that I had sent Frank Blaha . . . I did not respond . . .
Surrounded by my enemies . . . when two weeks ago Mengus advertised for the insurance adjusters and ignored my calls . . . I did not respond . . . But these are the people who win at life . . . Are elected mayor. . . The rich and powerful . . . they control all the levers . . .
What can we do?
After the Red Comedian (he would want me to use his name) started making references to my sister and a place near Mill Valley called Green Gulch Farm a Buddhist community I went there to investigate. Alan Watts had had some connection and I was interested in seeing if there was anything left, an echo perhaps.
They had a group meeting called the Alan Watts Society or some such. So I went and listened to a talk by a “street priest” who was accompanied by his associate, both homosexuals. There were two English girls who were visiting the area, and studying Buddhism I suppose. And I made the company five.
After the talk about Alan Watts the “street priest’s” associate, launched into a long and frankly bizarre monologue filled with innuendo and dull invective, hissing with contempt and only slightly disguised hate, and ended his performance with something to the effect . . . “Oh, sure, you can be a big businessman in . . . in . . . insurance, drive a big fancy car, (I drove an old Thunderbird at that time), think you have everything . . . advise Presidents about war, and, and . . . write a lot of letters to the Senate . . . but then you realize that you are nothing, . . . and you come here to study Buddhism and atone for what you have done.”
There was a moment of silence then the English girls burst in to laughter. Then recovering, one asked, “Are you serious?”
God bless English girls.
The “street priest” then said later that he was working on “laser disks” with Alan Watts’ lectures. I did respond to him. But he denied knowing anything about my letters discussing the role of laser disks in education.
I remember the night was foggy and cold. Drizzly. The smell of Eucalyptus.
Later, years later, I one day decided to stop visiting Green Gulch Farm in Mill Valley. It struck me all at once that from the very first night I visited the place to that very moment there had been this hissing dishonesty . . .
There is a story about a famous student going to visit his famous teacher. He found the teacher “surrounded by a thousand angry barking female dogs.” I told Yvonne that I finally understood the meaning of that phrase after visiting Green Gulch Farm.
Reb Anderson the one time abbot said mildly once, that he knew sometimes people misbehave but if one tries to intervene they will just be worse. Doing by not doing.
So the kids pass by. The policeman waits a few minutes then leaves. Doing by not doing.
The former mayor of Mill Valley?
She ended up suing the insurance company. The company called me to a big downtown law firm to meet with the company’s attorney and the “senior regional adjuster” from Los Angeles who had taken over the file. They wanted me to call the former mayor and make a ridiculous low ball offer. Just made up.
I called the insured and with the attorney and the “senior adjuster” listening in asked if they had obtained the estimates that we had previously agreed they would? “No” was the answer. “Why not?” “We want you to make an offer,” was the reply. “But how would you know?” I challenged, “if you do not get an estimate?” The attorney and the “senior regional adjuster” looked at me like I was crazy.
The conversation ended like that. They would, as had been agreed before, obtain an estimate.
I was excused.
The attorney and the other adjuster, my “superior”, had wanted to take advantage of the good rapport I had established with the dear old couple and try to settle the claim for a low ball sum.
I did not.
Later I learned that they claimed that the other adjuster did make a low ball offer and sued for bad faith. I gave a deposition.
Do you suppose the insurance company thanked me for keeping them out of trouble? Did that attorney put in a good word for me? I had a long career with the company after that? Do you think so?
But I thought this is how we had all agreed to work together? No?
No.
What amazes me now is how shameless you all are. Chris Matthews actually wanted people to know that he knew about all of this. As did Phil Matier at the SF Chronicle and that bald fat dope with the Sacramento Bee, and all the people at KQED, KGO, KCBS, KSFO, and now KNEW. They actually want people to know that they know what Michael Weiner and Don Imus and Ron Owens and Mrs. Jack Swanson and Michael Krasney . . . what they and what all of the rest did to me over these years . . .
CENCAL and GAB Robins and Farmers have all visited.
Scott Bobro and Dean Sodos have actually entered their names along with McGurk and Imus. (Now that Imus has been taken off the local air he has stopped entering his name.)
You want people to know how dishonest you are. (Like that Mill Valley policeman crouched down behind the parked cars. ) You are proud of yourselves. And more! You justify yourselves with all those rationalizations: your victim status, or because I misspelled a word, or that I am poor, or just that I have been targeted by others, that itself is enough for you. Amazing.
This is what amazes me.
That “street priest” is proud of his dishonesty too. Street Buddhism. The ‘street’ is his rationalization.
“When will we say enough is enough?”--- Gene Burns
Soon Gene Burns, very soon.
ps Over a year later, I explained to Yvonne that I had come to understand the meaning of “a thousand angry barking female dogs”; the following week I attended a talk at Green Gulch Farm by a young woman. In her talk she quoted “the old Latin saying: ‘Dogs bark at strangers.’” I wondered . . . Yvonne? . . . Yvonne! --- but I wasn’t a ‘stranger.’ By that time I had been going there for over a year . . . but then perhaps I have always been a stranger . . . someone should study this: failure to connect and suicide.
Note: 08-01-05
In retrospect I now see that the Mill Valley Police already knew that the target of their ‘set up’ would not harm the children. Of course! They had already visited this site. And now that their attempt has been exposed their following me, the stakeouts, the attempts at entrapment have all stopped. Who set them up to it? Michael Weiner? Yvonne? Peter Coyote? Jack Swanson? Members of the San Rafael Police or Marin Sheriff? We will never know. Obviously some very powerful people would like to discredit me. Would like nothing better than for me to commit my “protest” under a cloud, with a “criminal record” involving “children” . . . etc. What could be better! “Oh, that fellow,” they will arrogantly scoff, “He was caught by a Mill Valley Policeman! Caught him red handed . . . they did . . . fortunately a Policeman was just happening by . . . He was attacking children! Can you imagine? What a monster. Deranged! He was unemployed you know. Who will believe a word he has written? . . .” etc., etc.
But some of our visitors would have known the truth ---- but would you have told anyone? Even in death will you still keep your silence?
www.NewRuskinCollege.com
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