The New American Project

The New American Project.

How do you kill a nation?
Destroy trust.
Divide it with race wars.
Maintain shock value.
Tear out all history weakening its base while delegitimizing everything it’s people have overcome.
Perpetuate a constant flow of fear and loathing, maintaining stability with consumerism and credit but removing all social securities.
Politically, give each side their chosen leader, electrifying the supporters, and resistors alike. Ensure the appointment is fully an encompassment and an abomination to opposing views. As these will accommodate for great offense and dedication, ensuring a consistent conflict in minds.
Allow limited conflicts to run their course intervening only when numerous injuries or loss of life are imminent.
An anxious, overloaded society will for the most part be unable to resist a national reboot of government and freedoms.
In fact the people will do a majority of the work and beg for restrictions and laws controlling their freedom, for their safety.
If you make them believe their government no longer works for the greater good, or the people and they can no longer work with the opposing party, they will come to believe the Constitution is a failure and call for its repeal and replacement.
After all it’s old, and times have changed. The direction of the world has changed and America is the only power that’s a threat to the unification of world Governments.
And it’s not the American government that resists this flow, but the patriot citizens holding on to old ideals and believe in American Exceptionalism.
Destroy those strengths by exposing, baiting and parading the extremists. Alienate those who believe being exceptional is acceptable and borders being a crime.
Then demonize the entire group. Be it by party affiliation, race, or religion.
Once guilt and shame driven, even if innocent, a solitude, weakened, baseless society is completely inept to resist re-molding.
To minimize organized violent resistance, change the focus weekly with new offensive storylines. A constantly moving assassin can’t be seen much less caught. With the ever changing focus, resistance to the increasing change will be less intrusive on the minds of the targeted subjects, (who is entirely, The peoples of the United States of America). These guidelines limit the causalities of resistance, thus preserving the investment in the United States Corporation, its members and its property(the people).

The New America Project, a country redefined.

By Adam Houle
[My hypothetical thesis of the change guidelines of Corporation]

 

Its a new Dawn.

chris-gerbaux-abstract-realism-nina-simone-

Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life, and I’m feeling good..

Nina Simone- IM FEELING GOOD. <<<Video

I borrow a great line from a timeless artist, Nina Simone.(1965)

I’m quite sure these words had a completely different meaning for Nina, and I can certainly try to understand her joyous out pouring. I will never experience her trials quite as she did, yet I can most certainly appreciate her openness and celebrate her happiness found in the freedom she expresses in the lines of this song.

What I appreciate about this song most is what it means to me in my life, at this moment. Its vibrations lift me and unequivocally soar alongside my soul, celebrating freedom. Freedom of a different kind. One only I can experience as it grows in the confines of my own soul and mind.

And you, what freedoms do you seek?

Where are you held captive?

Is it perspective?

Perspective.

What a revelation! What an energy!

New perspective is illuminating, freeing as the old clothes and old person peels away as every new truth is revealed and embraced.

What truth do you seek?

What change do you want?

How are you going to get it?

What are you doing right now to change your perspective?

Do you want change?

Do you want Growth?

Level up.

Love.

Love yourself as you were created.

Different and unique.

Own it.

Love it.

Adam Houle

That Glitter

In the middle,

between here and there.

I see a flash of glitter,

I catch a glimpse of your flare.

I press forward,

my shoes worn away.

I can see my reward,

no more delay.

will this heat burning down never end,

will the wounds on my head ever mend?

Each step is an eternity, not quite real,

and the resolve is a bandage,

that cannot heal.

I tire, I take a break,

I sit down, I shake and shake.

I tip some wine and drink some ale.

I pause, drunken and growing pale.

My vision is blurred,

but from my stupor i look again,

The glitter is afar,

father than it has ever been.

I start again,

more tired than ever.

But this time i will not stop,

until I reach that glitter.

That glitter.

oh the joy it brings

it’s a sliver,

of that which the angels sing.

oh the hope,

it does bestow.

It brings life

a fountain of joy.

Adam Houle

Achievement

  
Achievement.

   I reciently received a quote on achievement. It threw me into a whirlwind of thoughts and reflection. As I meditated on the verb questions and experiences rushed to the surface from unbeknownst corners of my being. Maybe it’s my early 40’s mindset, or the circumstances of recent years, a sudden panic tried to settle in. What have I achieved in my life? 

    I’ve often envied those who seemingly settle into their lifestyles, careers and genius.  They always radiate a sense of completion. Confidently set in their commitments. Happy. They jump into their career or profession early on, make wise investments and now wear the badges of achievement. Whatever that list entails. 

In my global thinking, achievement, was a grand accomplishment that has substantial influence and value. Yet I, I have never thought I earned those badges. I’ve struggled to find a niche, always successful, but never fully satisfied of the achievement. So I discounted them as mistakes, or failures. I believed that the time, valuable and short, had been wasted. Would I ever achieve? It became a driving force. I felt I could put to rest the nagging ache in my soul for completion if only I achieved something of value. Value. Yes I would have value if I guided that certain mission to the end. So I did. Many times.

    My meditation slid deeper, the memories started flowing. A montage set to music of the last act of a Roy Rogers flick. Thousands of experiences spiraling into one memory, one moment. The picture became a stage play. I’m the lead. I act. The end. 

     I’m standing on a theater stage, cold wood floors beneath my feet, the ominous crowd before me. The lights blinding me. I’m  alone on stage with sweat burning my eyes from the heat of blazing lights. Silence. I hear only my voice, my steps, my shortness of breathe. 

I’ve been on this stage my whole life. 

   I’ve been performing and performing and  pushing for that applause. That roar of acceptance. Those goosebumps of praise. I receive only silence. So I do the act again, this time with more ferver, with more of my soul. My muscles ache from the intense energy poured into the act. I’m shaken. But I deliver, every single line. I don’t miss a beat. I hit my marks as though I’m living it. I am living it. But no applause. I think I hear some snickers, some sighs, a cantankerous cough. I walk stage right. As always there’s my family, my few friends. We merge in a hug. They don’t care if I’m sweaty, drenched with despair. They cling to me because they know me. They love me. They know the struggles and what I’ve poured into this performance. They know my heart and how much I care for the audience. They know. I love them. 

       As I stare at these images I realize that achievement is present everywhere. This is a successful end. It’s when the curtains fell and I embraced those I love that I achieved. Love is achievement. Love is the goal we all seek. And somehow it’s misconstrued and misguided to be believed to be something entirely different. 

     If you’ve loved, you have achieved life at its fullest. 

   I can hear the echo of the last line in the play, I spill forth the words from my soul deep. It’s pure and full in every way, “achievement is only attained if you can say you have loved.”

Adam Houle
     

A look back at random thoughts

  
I visited my Blogger Blog and found this relevant gem.

Random thoughts of days.

I am Looking at the picture before me with utmost sincerity and devotion.

I am aware, as best as one could be, the story, is astounding. 
I sit as a spectator and watch the events unfold. 
The years spill out their truths, long ago suspected.  

It is a bitter-sweet reward. 

I am more astounded each and every day.

People seemed to enjoy them even though It seemed more therapeutic to ones-self reading back.

Back to therapy.

I am Looking at the picture before me with utmost sincerity and devotion. I am aware, as best as one could be, the story, is astounding. I sit as a spectator and watch the events unfold. The years spill out their truths, long ago suspected. It is a bitter-sweet reward. I am more astounded at the obvious complacency and dependence of the majority. All Industries, all religions, all governments, all advertisers, all advisers, all entertainment, and science, and medicine…ect. ect.. tell you and I how to feel, what we “should” think, and shouldn’t. Only years later to retract, resend, remove, and cover -up. The amount of information available is by far the the most that man has achieved in this generational run. Yet, why is it that we are so mis-informed, misled, misused and mistreated. The technology is in fact going to work against life. It will repress all freedoms.

If all of us are asleep…who will watch the gates? I ask the man standing near by.
“The gates have been broken down and stole away for some time now.” The man answers. 
“But i haven’t noticed them missing. There has been conspiracy stories…but.. all hogwash! We are safe in our walls.” I say.
“You cannot see the missing Gates because your eyes have been filled with illusions, magic, mantra. These pleasures and pleasantries and idols and impotent powers have misguided you.” The man replies.
“I don’t believe you!” I scream.
The man touches my eyes and says. “Open your eyes that you may see your captors as they lead you to your sleeping chambers.”
I am Looking at the picture before me with utmost sincerity and devotion.
I am aware, as best as one could be, the story, is astounding. 

I sit as a spectator and watch the events unfold. 

The years spill out their truths, long ago suspected. 

It is a bitter-sweet reward. 

I am more astounded each and every day.

I pray I stay awake, alert, and ready.

Because Who knows?

Someone may wake up. 
Adam Houle -2011

 

Love is a choice



” Love is a choice. Its not something you fall for or into. Its something you choose everyday.” ~Janet Houle ~ This was my mother’s wisdom to me. 
Growing up I never saw my parents fight. Not one time. My dad was 55 and my mom 49 when they adopted me. They were of the WW2 era and I noticed the difference in them from the start. As I got older I started noticing my friend’s parents yell, scream, argue and name call in front of not only their children but me. This was foreign to me as I never saw this in my own home. 
It wasn’t till later that I learned from my older sisters that my parents were never really in-love. What?? How could this be?
My dad for instance was always such a gentleman with my mom that he would do things such as open doors. The car, the house, at the store (before auto doors) he always put her first. He went to work every day, never did he stay home sick. He consistently provided for her, and never once did I hear him complain about work. He would buy her flowers once in a while with that sheepish grin, trying to hold back his happiness. He would drive home with twinkles in his eyes. He never went out without her, or came home drunk. He never once carried an argument or called her a name. He ‘Loved'(verb) her.
Likewise my mom took the same care and showed the same respect as he. She always took care of their home, prepared meals when she got home first, otherwise he would. She was always busy in the home making sure her husband had clean clothes to wear, that he came home to a comfortable haven after a long day at work and out in our walnut groves. She respected him at home and in public places, never undermining him. Even though she was smarter than him and they both knew it. She bought him cards once in a while with witty-fun that he liked. She always let him be a man, and honored and supported him. Respectfully, she ‘loved'(verb) him.
In these moments of happiness within each other I would see them look into each others eyes, full smiles..with their partials mismatching the colors of their natural teeth… And in those moments you could FEEL their love.
How could it be they weren’t in-love? What was I missing?
Well my mom was married at 15, for six months to another man. Upon leaving her first husband for abuse, she was a divorcee with child. In the 40’s this was very taboo. My dad happened to have come home from the war, injured by a grenade, and moved in on her street. “Fat Houle” he was known as by his friends, because he was always a little big. So a marriage of convenience commenced.
They were married for 55+ years out of commitment and covenant. They chose everyday to fulfill their vows, to love, honor and cherish. They did it when they didn’t want to, and when they had to. Divorce wasn’t an option. They chose to put their own needs aside and love another.  
Thats what love is, your own selfishness surrendered to another. It was never about how much one met ‘their’ needs, desires, or how happy they were made. It was how could they serve and help their spouse that day.  
In the end my mom cared for my dad for years as he slowly slipped away from Alzheimer’s. The struggles and battles of a decaying mind were staggering. But she lived for him. She dressed him and fed him and cared for him in his dissolving child state. She loved him with a love that would rival any love story. Why? Because she chose to love. And at that point she couldn’t do anything but love him. They were one soul.
What was their reward? A lifetime of love, security and memories. Commitment kept them together to the end. True love bound them and carried them through the impossible times. Honor wrapped them with a protection of friendship. Respect planted them near waters of strength. They went the distance, by giving themselves to another. Trusting through the hurt that their bonds were unbreakable. 
Their example shows me that even if one gets the joy of falling head over heals, everyday after that, love is a choice. 
Choose to love the one your with, it’s worth it in the end.

The battle with fear



(Photo by Adam Houle)

Battle with fear. 

    As I think about my greatest fears today, the lies and accusations of my heart seemingly grow as I feed the fear with my time and energy. The fear of that imagined becomes a mountain of despair, I’m left hopeless time and time again. 

    But then I’m gently reminded of why I fight. Love. LOVE is the only reason, and as I focus on that perfect love(because it’s selfless) and I’m strengthened. My hope rises and soars. The strength returns to my bones. I’m ready again for another day of absolute war, because I love. 

I love. And because of that…I am not afraid. 

I choose to stand. 

I stand. 

I stand. 

I will not be moved or swayed in my course. 

I will not be succumbed to the terrors beside me. 

I will focus on perfect love, because in the end, it IS what remains. 

Perfect love endures all, is all.

Adam Houle

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear. -1John 4:18

Ice and Steel

Ice and steel
A coldness alike
A Slippery slope
A fretful fight
The rubber doesn’t meet the road
Direction goes where it may
A battle of skill and might
To live through a winters day
Ice and steel
No forgiveness to give
You bleed but don’t feel
Anything along the way
The sky is blinding white
The earth is pitch black
Ice and steel
The only way back

Adam Houle
All Photos by Adam Houle

The bible-real or fake?

I am not surprised at the deconstruction of the bible during this time of increasing knowledge. As history accumulates into one vault and the origins of historic values are revealed, I see morality and belief driven to dissipation. I believe the religious leaders do in fact, have the majority of the bibles interpretation wrong. History has proven that and so does this current state of humanistic existence. I believe Christian leaders base their belief system off a fear driven catalyst. But its no surprise there, those without the spirit of God are driven by their own fears. Their own egos. Their own desires. Conviction is a morality that is reserved between creator and creation. Not a blanket policy to be pounded onto the mass to force submission to the god of religion.
Is the bible from God or man?
First let me ask, who is man to question God? We are reminded of this in the account of Job. Who by every account, questioned God and the law. The fact of this matter is that the words acquired by the Hebrews are alive and powerful today. Were they written by man? Yes. Are they imperfect accounts? Yes. Let me ask this, by who’s account are we faulting them? Mans? or Gods? God exists in spirit, and we rarely visit the cusp of that realm. How can we know the mind of God? How can we interpret His voice or mind? We couldn’t even exist if He spoke. I believe this book is an account of the few men who barely visited the edge of the spirit of an everlasting fire, it is only a hint of the truth.
Knowledge and science has revealed the vastness of this creation we live in, and we can’t even understand the earth and its mysteries fully, how then can our pride dare to lead us into infinite knowledge with all the answers of things unseen and unrevealed?
I’d say only the foolish go down that road.
People over history miss-use everything. Humans destroy life. Our only creations are for the sole benefit of self, to glorify self, and such is the belief system of most Christians over history. Even the disciples expounded, interpreted and expanded the teachings of Christ. From the beginning of the gift of that Divine life, from the moment His story was placed into the hands of man, it has evolved. The allowance of the Christ’s spirit to fully envelope one’s being is a rarity among men. For instance, try to let someone call you a name, or cut you off, or punch you in the stomach without getting angry. Let some steal all your money and don’t take them to court. In fact go over with a fully cooked meal and serve them dinner. Forgive the person who breaks your heart. Do something kind for your ex when they rip the trust of your child away from you. Go visit a murderer in prison and listen to their story. This is the Christ. This is His love and testimony.
The bible is a collection of some of the oldest texts in the history of mankind and they are more relevant today than ever. It’s uncanny to look at the mirror established so long ago, and the reflection is so clear. I believe it is the mist of the truth that we are allowed to see. And if we seek the spirit of God, the spirit of Christ’s testimony, we can see. We can see the truths Christ desperately tried to teach us. Past the point of death.
Has Christianity as a whole missed the mark throughout the years. ABSOLUTELY 100% YES! Jesus said “I say to you, even if you call your brother a fool, you are guilty of murder.” And how many have Christians have literally murdered many over the years in the name of Christ? Millions. Recently, American Indians.
Sure humanity can debate the sovereignty of the words in that book, but how could they argue with them? Is not man created perfect, yet he has immeasurable imperfections? So would be true with a book composed of all the writings of man and his experience with the Creator. Our account of the creators ways are often flawed by our own bias. Does that mean the bible isn’t composed by Gods spirit in man? Read it and find out for yourself! But I urge people to not take sound bites and blogs and create the world around themselves to suit their own bias. For really, what can you create? What do you have control over? Can we evolve into gods ourselves? How? We can’t even lay hold of the spirit of a man! We can only try to elevate ourselves into a realm we are not qualified for.

The bible. Is it the truth? Is it the truth we think it is? The truth set forth by its scholars?

The words in it set some men free, others it imprisons. If the bible were a dead farce, there would be NO debate.

Adam

Heeyy Cuuzzzz!

Cousin It

“Heeeey Cuuuzzzzz! What’s happening man?!”
Her voice is shrill and nasally. It’s incredible that it booms with such vibrant power. She is 4’9″, and draws all eyes in a room onto her petite frame. She stands as a giant. She is different and knows it.
As I, she was adopted and never quite fit perfectly into the family. As children we were drawn together at family functions to appease our not-so-mainstream ideals. While the other kids were watching sports, we were break dancing on cardboard to Michael Jackson. While they were playing Atari we were building legitimate tepees and forts. Cowboys and Indians always worked out well as she is of Mexican/Indian decent and well, Ya, I’m a cowboy. We shared a love for art, painting and making sculptures out of the mud from the olive grove. Painting Indian symbols on whitewashed walnut tree trunks with rotten walnut husks and black olives. Running through the fields with adventure and creativity brimming. It was one of the times I felt so alive and carefree. I was free to create, to be myself.
30 years later we have grown and lived our lives distanced. We come together for gatherings and maintain phone convo’s ever so often. She is still the same. People are shocked at times by her refusal to conform. I catch bewildered stares, stolen glances of awe. How could she not conform? How could she color her hair that color at that age? Tattoos on her chest? She plays the violin for a biker church…omg. They don’t relate, they can’t. It’s uncomfortable. But THAT is what I love about her! Good or bad, right or wrong, she is living regardless of what the herd is doing. Even after all this time I still admire my cuz for who she is and what she stands for in this life. I admire her strength to stand alone. She always shares her paintings and tattoos she done recently, it’s hard to look past her to the art she creates. She is the art, and I am lucky to see it.