shamanism, love, and the warrior poetthe Dean Sharp weblog
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Name: Dean
Country: United States
State: California
Metro: Ventura


Interests: Everything ... and very likely, you.
Expertise: I'm no expert, but I'm trying to find the best me ... for the Mystic's joy, my pleasure, and your benefit.
Occupation: Artist
Industry: Hospitality


Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website


Member Since: 5/21/2005

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Tuesday, March 07, 2006

the final Xanga blog entry ...

Hello Xangites,

Well the city I've been building in cyberspace is almost done and as one of the founding residents it's time for me to move in. As of today I'll be expressing myself on VOXTROPOLIS—the city of voices. Come on over and see me, get a voice (VOX) and join the fun.

the Shaman's new home in VOXTROPOLIS—the City of Voices

See you there!


Tuesday, January 31, 2006

being the church in the Empire …


If a gradually Americanized western culture is likened unto the new Roman imperialism, then we could expect that the only church to successfully influence it is the one that owns nothing but the vocations of its members, shares its faith in the marketplace, and gathers in the catacombs.

Your thoughts?


Monday, January 30, 2006

Thoughts ...

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

The Bene Gesserit Littainy Against Fear.
Dune—Frank Herbert


Thoughts ...

We will never do our part to save humanity until we stop pretending that fear is the same thing as wisdom.


Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Southern Californian Suburbia—The Cultural End of the World
Thoughts I Had While on Holiday in Europe - Part 2

First, forgive me of any over-simplifications that follow. I’m blogging, not writing a doctoral dissertation (some may disagree), so I’m trying to get to my point as quickly as possible ...

As I understand it, humanity was born in the middle of the world, what we now call the middle-east should probably in all fairness just be called the middle. Eden, Mesopotamia, Egypt, Babylon, Jerusalem, those that live there are correct, that region is the navel of the world.

From there civilization spread, east and west, across the globe. I am a part of the history of western culture, and if you think it through, I am a long, long, way from home. So far from home that if you go any farther west from where I live you’ll find yourself in the east. In that sense, the western coast of North America is the far western edge of the western world. Until we colonize another planet, it ends here.

Picture a journey. The long trek that western culture has made in the last twenty-five hundred years. First through continental Europe, to Britain, then to the Americas. From the New England colonies west to the Mississippi, and then the great trek through the wild west to the Gold Coast.

Now picture western culture with a pocket full of coins, each one representing a piece of its rich cultural tradition. But the pocket has a hole, and as it journeys west, one by one, the coins drop out. The farther the journey, the fewer traditions remain.

I love history, and last week I stood in London watching a new office building being constructed less than a stone’s throw from St. James park. I felt a twinge of pain knowing that some two hundred (or more) year old buildings gave their lives for this tower. There’s little room to build new things in ancient places like Britain without somehow tearing down history, and history is so very, very important.

Not so in California. My house stands in the one of the oldest neighborhoods in the Conejo Valley. It was built in 1960, in California terms, virtually a historic landmark. Of course there are older structures in California, but don’t waste your time looking for many neighborhoods celebrating their bicentennial. Apart from the Spanish missions from which many of our cities are named, they just aren’t there. Yes, compared to the rest of the western world, sunny suburban California is a cultural desert. I have regularly and derisively used words like antiseptic, sterile, void, black-hole, to describe what is not here ...

... and therein lies the answer.

If you were a scientist, an inventor, a futurist, a creator looking to create something new, looking for “space” and a “laboratory” to conduct your experiments in, then words like sterile, antiseptic, and void would not be offensive but rather very, very, appealing. Add to that the fact that somehow Los Angeles, for all that it is not (and if you know the history of the movie industry, because of all that it was not) has become the media nerve center of the western world.

And so, for me, here is a sliver of an answer as to what God might be doing with me here in the desert. Perhaps it’s not a punishment after all. Perhaps I’ve not been exiled to the wastelands but rather assigned to the lab. A place where I can be a part of building something new without expending too much effort tearing down what was.

Perhaps, and if that is truly the case, then I am truly thankful and excited about what gets cooked up next. If a VOX Café can succeed in its mission to Thousand Oaks, then perhaps we can export it via the connectedness of Los Angeles to the rest of the western world. And with it, the hope of connecting people to people, and people to God.

So, here at the halfway point of my journey (I turned 40 today), hope survives. I heard 40 is the new 25. Feels like it to me.

Thanks for listening.




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