Recent Blog Posts: Bakotopia

I've Never bin Laden: Rock music as a tool in the psychological operations of the military

Wed, 25 Oct 2006 09:56:07 PDT

Do you think bin Laden will ever be found? Do you believe he is dead? Does capturing bin Laden still matter? Is Bill Clinton responsible for missed opportunities to capture him? How about Bush?

I'm not interested in getting into the middle of the blame game. But I still think that, as a symbol of our resolve, and as a psychological boon for the psychological operations of the military, he still needs to be captured.

I've Never Bin Laden is a song from my 9/11 retrospective CD, One September Mournin' that summarizes my proposed psychological strategy in fighting the war on terror.
http://www.sacbee.com/static/live/news/anniversary/psychologist.html

It is based upon the notion that we must recruit more non-military volunteers to become actively engaged in the psychological operations (psyops) of the military.

Liabled Lady part two

Wed, 25 Oct 2006 03:49:39 PDT

On Monday while I was teaching my class I had to deal with Senaca Moore's sister walking in on me and demanding that I turn down the music and talk to her. I told my students to continue and I talked to her sister in private. That is when I was acused of lying, slander, and liable and was threatened with legal action if I said anthing. She also stated to me twice "You can't dance." "You can't dance." I do not know if this is a threat of some kind, an oppinion, or a statement. I am going to talk to Milt about a lawyer, just in case I need one. I am also thinking of going to the police and talking to them about the actions that Seneca's sister took. I do not know if they are planing to do any thing to me or my students. If you would like to see the comment that started all this they can be found on the Bakotopia sight under the name Belly Dancing in Bakersfield. Their are 15 comments and I am responsable for two of them; number nine and fifteen. If you would like to ask Aura and Seneca what they think or feel please to call and ask them at Bahiyya Almas Dance Studio 661-634-0322. As for me, I am going to go on with my life and my belly dancing.
Rachel/Zoso : )

BLOGGER'S BANQUET: Episode II: EVERYBODY MUST GET SCONED: featuring the Rolling Scones

Wed, 25 Oct 2006 01:07:13 PDT

My morning music often depends on my mood. I like a wide variety of music, including classic rock, alt rock, post-punk and 70s pop and R&B. Most modern rock stations don't hold my attention for too long unless they are playing bands like Jet, All American Rejects, or Green Day. But mostly, I like the old music of the British invasion, the stuff that was mostly taking off before I even knew how to talk, let alone, rock. Among my favorite British invasion bands are the Beatles, The Who and, you guessed it: The Rolling Stones.

It's pretty obvious what the song, Starbucks Maple Oat Scones (And the Rolling Stones) by The Rolling Scones, was inspired by. What is not so obvious is that Starbucks in Bakersfield has recently changed bakers and their once-famous-now-infamous Maple Oat Nut Scones really suck. So while I used to say, "Everyone must get sconed," I now say, "Just say no to Starbucks scones." The song hasn't grown stale at all, especially not with Jerry giving me a break on lead vocals. Me and the rest of the boys from the Rolling Scones hope you enjoy it.

BLOGGER'S BANQUET (Episode I): Mick, Don't Ya Gimme No Lip!: Introducing the ROLLING SCONES

Wed, 25 Oct 2006 00:38:53 PDT

I'd like to introduce a new blog series and a relatively new band. The Rolling Scones started in the summer of 2004 in Bakersfield, California. Jerry Rothberg and I alternate on lead vocals, and his main instrument is the sax. He also plays lead guitar and I play rhythm guitar. Dan Miller plays bass, Walter Stormont plays percussion, Pat Frase plays drums. These are wonderful musicians and we're all good friends.

We don't perform much because we're all heavily involved in multiple projects. We are not a Stones cover band. We are inspired by the Rolling Stones, but the music is written by yours truly, and it's mostly original stuff, from the CD: Stone-ground Dreams: A Bittersweet Tribute to the Rolling Stones.

In this song, I drew upon a lyrical story-telling technique I commonly use: one called Magic Realism, in which elements of fiction are juxtaposed with elements of reality. In short, this song is sort of about Mick Jagger. Me and the boys hope you like it.

www.drblt.net

Outside the Fishbowl: The Elitist Press/N.L. Belardes Throwdown

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 21:44:06 PDT

First I want to say, hello. I will be posting here merely to link to the stories in my main blog. Sorry, I hate this too. But I'm not going to maintain two blogs.

http://robshock.blogspot.com/2006/10/outside-fishbowl-elitist-pressnl.html

My first Halloween ...

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 11:21:35 PDT

Well, in my own house.

One year I lived in an apartment and left a bag of candy on my doorknob while I took my daughter out Trick-or-Treating. I attached a note that said "Take one piece, or I will find you"

When I returned home there were only 3 pieces taken from the bag. It was good candy! Full size Reese's Peanut Butter Cups! Oh-well ... more candy for me that year.

This year I'm volunteering at our office booth at the Safe Halloween event. They encourage costumes, so I think I'm going to be a cat. Yes, generic I know, but I've run out of home grown ideas. Last year I was a 50's Stepford Wife looking person (here I am borrowing my boyfriends tommy gun.

The year before I was Hanoi Jane (Which is my favorite costume, but it's too early to repeat the look)

I'm probably not going to go out, except for the volunteer work, and I have to have something appropriate for that day and work. Otherwise I'd be a Pirate Wench or the Mad Hatter, but those costumes show my bum (speaking of which, I still need to pick them up from How Cool).

I am looking forward to passing out candy. I went to Costco last weekend and bought two bags of gummy eyeballs. I figured 160 pieces of candy would suffice ... then my neighbor said to expect maybe 200 or more children! So I'm going back to Costco for a big bag of chocolate bars.

I love watching the kids come up in their costumes! Some kids are so cute, what irks me are the older kids who show up in sweats with a pillowcase. Come one, I don't care if you are 15 and still trick-or-treating ... but at least make some sort of costume! Maybe I'll post a sign that says "No Costume, No Treat!"

One year a couple kids came to my mom's door dressed as gypsies. All year, when my daughter was naughty, I would tell her that the Gypsies were going to come and get her. When these kids showed up at the door I hollered for her and said "Look Aidan, it's the gypsies!" Her eyes grew big and she said "But I've been good!" I told her that I told them that and they were just going to trade her for some candy and go home.

My best friend, her two kids, and her chihuahua Nancy (Igby's fiancee) are going to come over and trick-or-treat Oleander with us while my roommates handle the candy for a while. (Igby is a Bat, Nancy is a Pumpkin) Then once I get back home I'm going to pop in my RHPS dvd and chill out on the couch waiting for the door to ring.

"Allah, bye! Jesus, hi!": There Must be 50 Ways to Convert a Muslim Extremist to Christ

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 10:02:18 PDT

Psyops involves the psychological operations of the military. What if psyops joined forces with evangelical Christian psychologists in planning a grand intervention in the war on terror that would win over the seemingly intractable soul, while penetrating the seemingly impenetrable Psyche?

There may be more than one way to fight the war on terror. There must be 50 ways to convert a Muslim extremist to Christ. How about using Bibles as weapons of mass constuction, and air-dropping culture-sensitive Christian tracts as "carpet bombs" in predominantly Muslim nations, particularily targeting zones occupied by Muslim extremists?

Doesn't anybody believe in miracles any more? Jesus said that if you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move moutains. Is it possible to have too much faith. Jesus said to come to him as little children. When I was a child at the age of 4, when my family used to gather around for devotions and prayer, when it came time for me to pray, I would pray that Satan would be saved and turn to Jesus. My parents rapidly attempted to disabuse me of the notion that Satan was a viable candidate for salvation. I just looked at them as if to say, "Oh ye, of little faith!"

Do my strategies sound a little extreme? Perhaps they are. But didn't Jesus say that he came to the world to save the world? Did Jesus say, "I'll make an exception in the case of extremist fringes of the Muslim faith"? Are Muslim extremists, intent on regarding Christians as persona non grata, aka "infidels," and wiping Christians and Jews off the face of the earth, unreachable? Some people would say, "Live and let live----all religions lead to God, so keep your religion to yourself and let others worship in their own way." What if "their way" is intent on crushing "your way"? What if "their way" keeps nations, and indeed the entire world, on edge as the world waits with a growing sense of utter helplessness as extreme Muslims plan their next 9/11-scale attack?

Radical times call for radical measures. What are some of yours?

Blog in Black: Episode 5: I learned about the limits of diagnosis from Johnny Cash

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 06:44:09 PDT

I initially became aware of the limits of psychological diagnosis and psychiatric-based classification systems when I worked for Fresno Unified School District as a Music Therapist and participated in Individualized Educational Plans for students who were developmentally delayed. Developing and subsequently implementing interdisciplinary educational interventions for these students was conspicuously hindered when I approached students strictly on the basis of formal diagnoses that had been assigned to them.

I learned more about the limits of such a diagnostic approach to treatment in graduate school. But my greatest teacher in this respect would turn out to be the Man in Black, Johnny Cash. The story can be found via this link:

Cash Offering of Six-string Therapy/Phantom Tollbooth
http://www.tollbooth.org/2003/features/jcash.html

Don't get me wrong. Diagnosis and formal organization of mental illnesses are ineffably useful in terms of securing funds to address the special needs of students with developmental and psychological conditions that interfere with their functioning. Furthermore, such an approach can be unspeakably useful in terms of organizing clinical observations in a way that allows for effectively treating symptoms for patients suffering from a variety of mental health conditions.

However, unless those directly responsible for developing intervention strategies for treating the mentally ill and developmentally delayed individual through the application of critical and creative thinking, treatment strategies and the application of such strategies can become extremely limited. Why classify? What is abnormal? To what does cultural bias interfere with the formulation of diagnostic criteria? Do diagnostic labels help in understanding and treating folks suffering from psychological problems? Do such labels add insult to injury? Do we actually harm patients by observing and treating them from a diagnostic perspective? These questions stem from the application of critical thinking. They must be consistently applied in order to break down traditional ways of looking at suffering individuals. Once they have been applied, we can apply creative thinking to the process, rebuilding the foundation upon which clinical intervention rests. I believe that foundation will be stronger. I didn't learn this from Sigmund Freud, Carl Rogers or B.F. Skinner. I had to walk the line in the footsteps of Johnny Cash to learn this lesson.

What are your thoughts on the benefits and drawbacks associated with labeling people with psychological problems according to diagnostic criteria? I'm interested in gathering such feedback, not only from professionals in the field, but from the general public. Your input is the "roll" in this new art form of mine I like to call blog n roll.

JC THERAPY:
words and music by Dr. BLT (c)2006

can you guess who I am
according to your treatment plan
according to your DSM-IV
what's my GAF score
what am I on Axis one
if it's a game, well, you won
you succeed in labelin' me
but when you gonna

rescue me
set me free
nothin' touches
my misery
like a Cash song
sung in G
what I need
is some JC therapy

'bin depressed for quite awhile
'bin a long time since I smiled
I've 'bin manic once before
once before and maybe more
no, I'm not schizophrenic
neither am I schizoaffective
as you can see, it's quite severe
it's been chronic for a year

rescue me
set me free
nothin' touches
my misery
like a Cash song
sung in G
what I need
is some JC therapy

I am anxious in this place
in a place I can't escape
when I panic you'll see me
freakin' out, it's embarrassin', see?!
and my travel is restricted
or endured with marked distress
I am filled with impending doom
like this smotherin', shrinkin' room

rescue me
set me free
nothin' touches
my misery
like a Cash song
sung in G
what I need
is some JC therapy

Have you got some Johnny Cash?
' seems to ease my stress attacks
takes my demons
holds 'em back
simply talkin' won't do that
sometimes psychotherapy
isn't quite enough for me
but when Johnny sings his tunes
' makes my Psyche feel brand new

rescue me
I'm short of breath
feel the tightness in my chest
so diseased
what I need
goin' crazy
for some JC therapy...
JC THERAPY:
words and music by Dr. BLT (c)2006

can you guess who I am
according to your treatment plan
according to your DSM-IV
what's my GAF score
what am I on Axis one
if it's a game, well, you won
you succeed in labelin' me
but when you gonna

rescue me
set me free
nothin' touches
my misery
like a Cash song
sung in G
what I need
is some JC therapy

'bin depressed for quite awhile
'bin a long time since I smiled
I've 'bin manic once before
once before and maybe more
no, I'm not schizophrenic
neither am I schizoaffective
as you can see, it's quite severe
it's been chronic for a year

rescue me
set me free
nothin' touches
my misery
like a Cash song
sung in G
what I need
is some JC therapy

I am anxious in this place
in a place I can't escape
when I panic you'll see me
freakin' out, it's embarrassin', see?!
and my travel is restricted
or endured with marked distress
I am filled with impending doom
like this smotherin', shrinkin' room

rescue me
set me free
nothin' touches
my misery
like a Cash song
sung in G
what I need
is some JC therapy

Have you got some Johnny Cash?
' seems to ease my stress attacks
takes my demons
holds 'em back
simply talkin' won't do that
sometimes psychotherapy
isn't quite enough for me
but when Johnny sings his tunes
' makes my Psyche feel brand new

rescue me
I'm short of breath
feel the tightness in my chest
so diseased
what I need
goin' crazy
for some JC therapy...

Liabled Lady

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 04:16:12 PDT

Bahiyya Almas wishes to engage in a legal action against me for a comment that I posted on this sight.

Rachel/Zoso : )

Inside Out

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 22:52:58 PDT

The sun is rising so clear today

A textbook beautiful

Technically adept sunrise

I wanted it to be a sloppy

A clanging “You must be joking!”

Cluttered sunrise today.

But sometimes we don’t get what

We think we want –

We think we want clanging chaos,

“More cacophony!” We shout, banging

Our chests like a confused Tarzan choir –

And what we receive instead is a

Quiet, hissing whisper, air releasing

Air filling… slowly… intentionally…

Ever-so-sure-and-deliberate

So we pause, shock denial anger back to

“a-ha” shock and step into the question

The curvy loop,

Itself a fascination…..

We, no… I…. miss so much through
stubborn insistence

When the treasure waits, peacefully, gracefully

So I said “Good morning” aloud, across the miles

And pointed my heart towards you…….

I receive an internal snuggle in return

And I smiled

Inside

Out

Electro Dreampop Fixation November 20

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 20:02:20 PDT

I know we said our last show was the show of the century, but that was for Fresno. This show with our Oregon friends The Fast Computers is the show of the century for Bakersfield. Dalloways and TFC's go electro dreampop. Hear it ... see it ... dream it ... don't miss it!

Visit The Dalloways Tour Page for specs.

Great Date Music!

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 19:42:25 PDT

October 20th, the band perform in the big electro dreampop fixation extravaganza at The Starline. The show featured Blake Jones and the Trike Shop and newcomers Poplord. Blake and the fellows were in true form--the Theremin wept joyously under the gentle coaxing of Blake's hands. This is sixties Brian Wilson inspired avant garde at its best.

For the rest of the article, visit The Dalloways Blog!

I'm bringin' Paxil back ...

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 14:50:09 PDT

This video cracks me up! It's a parody of "Sexy Back"

"I'm bringing Paxil back / The platinum bottle with the child-proof cap / Just read the dosage and quadruple that ..."

"Get your doctors note, get your doctors note. Get - Your - Doctors - Note."

Dwelling in the Pulse of the Moment

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 13:53:10 PDT

“Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as

nothing can cure the senses but the soul.”

Oscar Wilde

I leaned back into the darkness, my face shining like the yellowing crown on a fried egg, I looked up at the night sky in rapt attention. It looked like I could reach out and feel the texture of the sky with my hand or perhaps, instead, trace it with my tongue and see if the stars had a flavor all their own, unknown to the casual-night-sky-passer-by.

The fire crackled beside me. I could smell sausage cooking on the end of a stick, juices oozing off its crinkling skin. The chocolate cookie I had eaten was still leaving its echo in my mouth. The left side of my body felt exceptionally warm and the right side of my body was tickled by a cool breeze which teased me relentlessly.

Soul conversation whispered directly into the ear.

Songs sung, lyrics remembered, long ago poetry revisited.

Deep breath, gentle and insistent embrace.

Each sense was magnified by the intention and the connection. My soul and I glided effortlessly into the spell of wonder and gratitude.

My hand lifted up and out to connect with skin of another. Silently, I smiled.

My Found Heart

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 12:29:54 PDT

I felt like I had misplaced my heart.

A whole bag of goodies, notebooks.. and my cell phone,

seemed to have evaporated.

I scolded myself, “This is what happens when you stay

out too late and get too little sleep. What were you thinking?”

The other side of ego leaped up, “Thinking? Ha. Not thinking at all… so what else is new?”

If I spent more time paying any heed to that ego side they surely would have started spewing expletives in short order.

I released them and went about my business, most close to hand a class I was teaching, a 9 in the morning class. It was my soul identity class – a sacred time when I work with an incredible group of people regarding to soulful matters of the heart.

My ego-thought ramblings clearly had no space there.

I mentioned to one of my students that my cell phone was missing.

She gasped, “Oh, no! Have you been going crazy with the looking?”

I inhaled. “No, I somehow understood that I needed to let go of the looking and instead, immerse myself in the moment,” which is where I decided to spend my day, immersed in the moment.

Class ended. I came back to my desk, wearing my usual work attire of a nightgown with my hair piled on the top of my head. No make-up, not even lipstick. I listened to Alasdair Frazer and Began writing. Writing. Writing. I created an MP3 entitled “Where does your soul want you to go?” and it was in the moment of saving that

recording that I thought I heard a knock on the door.

I placed my palm against the door, not wanting to open it to anyone I didn’t know. “Yes, what is it?” or something like that.

Imagine my surprise to hear it was my Muse, bringing me… yet again… my cell phone, which seems to have a habit of disappearing when I am with him. I let go of the looking. The Divine had handled it already.

I stayed immersed in the moment. I held my phone, I hugged my muse in gratitude – and blushed at being caught in the middle of the morning wearing my nightgown, no make-up with my hair piled on top
of my head.

I had just read these words from Rumi:

“Oh heart, sit with someone who knows the heart;

Go sit under the tree which has the fresh blossoms.”

Not the place that goes crazy with looking or worries incessantly or responds with attachment to the “stuff” of life which detracts from the truth of life.

My muse delivers because we choose to tune into the knowing of the heart. We sit under the tree with the fresh blossoms. And we sometimes stay awake late into the earliest part of the day… and trust that whatever comes is just right. Even if that is losing and sometimes

finding and appearances in unexpected places and forms.

Today – sit with someone who knows the heart. Your heart. Her heart. His heart. The collective heart.

Sit under the tree – sit in the place, the space, the arena… which has the fresh blossoms.