The Eyes of Alan Watts

I wrote about politics for a couple of years. Now that nothing that happens can conceivably be influenced by anything I do or say, I only read about politics.

In the environment of Obama's Presidency, in which we hope for the best, I offer, not politics, but a memory.

Alan Watts, I'm not afraid of your eyes anymore.

(In 1970 I drove to Sausalito where Alan Watts was living in a houseboat, walked into the entrance hall, and when he greeted me was so terrified that I fled. Into a rainstorm. What I saw in his eyes that frightened me was endlessness.)