David Wills singing one of Waterfall’s favorite songs, ‘Well, well, well’ to open the 33rd annual Haight Ashbury Street Fair which was dedicated to Waterfall.

Don French has great pictures of the fair at http://www.flickr.com/photos/39108059@N00/sets/72157624153901737/

This is what Don has to say: I created a gallery of images from yesterday’s annual Haight Ashbury Street Fair here: http://www.donfrenchphotography.com/Events/2010HaightAshburyStreetFair/img_8597c.htm. I tried to capture the color and flavor of this unique fair in these photos. I hope you enjoy them. I strongly suggest that you view the photographs full-size rather than in the index. Use the Next link above each image to page forward through the images. If they are too large to fit on your screen without scrolling, try pressing F11 to get more screen real estate (press it again to get the screen back the way it was). If they are still too large, here is a site that has smaller images: http://www.donfrenchphotography.com/Events/2010HaightAshburyStreetFair/Smaller/img_8597c.htm. But they really do look their best at the larger size and you can see more detail. For those of you who live in the Haight, if you see someone you recognize and know their email address, please send it to me, as many people asked if I would contact them once I had the photos ready to view. Thanks!

An Organ plays as the
Reverend Waterfall pontificates from the beyond.

Most folks don’t know
That all your cares are free:
If you are clever with your foe
You’ll win, when we agree.

That what we need to teach
Is less suffering for all
But there’s no need to preach –
It’s not your butt in war.

What we want are ways to seed
The place where politicians work
With motives of constructive help
Not personal greed.

What’s needed is a way of bliss.
Not nasty, godly bigots
With their, “Don’t do this,”
And their, “Thou shalt nots.”

Our rulers could discover, one day
A philosophy at a different site
To the current, Yankee way
Where, “We have the right.”
(Because you can’t.)

The cause of most wars
Is the cutting off of trade roots:
Think Spanish gold bars
Or opium sold by British brutes.
(And oil all over.)

It‘s obvious that war is sales
Marketing by another name.
Forget the army: Bring in the prose.
Let advertisers direct their game:
And Basques will smite their foes
With an ad campaign
In Spain.

Or make all wars illegal, with fines.
We’ll sue for peace, what nerve –
Put the judges on the front lines.
Keep the jurors in reserve.

His handlers say that Bush was just
“Defending his fam-ily from lust.”
With wealth, as power’s plum.
For, “He who has his thumb
On the purse,
has the power.”

Said Bismarck in his feathered-top.
To the Reichstag then did order
That, “Eloquence won’t stop
My army at the border.”

These schemers are not immoral,
With code of honor to dismiss.
They don’t fair-share at all
They are amoral blight
With a world-view, like this:
The end makes mean right.

Of course good folk may do
Horrible things too
But bad people do not do
Any good at all.

But spiritual thought of any kind
Is suspect as trite today.
Maybe it’s time for us to find
A graceful, easy way.

In contest with privilege, and its perks
Let our noble Constitution talk
For we have a vote that works
To help the lame man walk.

Use the Innernet! That’s my thesis.
Say no to the Gods of Do Not.
This Innernet of bits
And peace is
The best we got.

If there is meaning to life’s flux
I think there should be in it
A song of peace that rocks
With an element of spirit.

The wild disorder of life is found
Where ’ere the Innernet’s in flower
’Tis there I kiss the fertile ground
Of spiritual power:

–Wills with Waterfall

As we think, so it will be.

Wills wrote it, Latin by Tom the Scholar

Photograph by Jeff Spirer copyright 2007

A very endearing glimpse of Waterfall at the Peace Parade in 2007, San Francisco Civic center. This may have been his last big street demo.

See http://davidwills.wordpress.com/

Act 1. A conversation
It is a Tuesday morning with the breath of a fog scout overhead. In a rent controlled flat, two long time neighbors kick back:

Waterfall: What to do?

Wills: Talk is cheap…

Waterfall: As Henry Eight said, “If I talk a little wild, forgive me, I got it from my father.” I’m searching for the essence. No one can say I have an axe to grind – for I have no axe, nor yet a grindstone. Take the story of Rumi’s elephant. In the dark each person thought the part of the beast nearest them was the whole – mistaking the bit for the it. I’m not looking for the parts, I seek pure thoughts, I want simple truths¬ – a big one being: What or who gave us the right to invade Iraq? I’d ask Dick Cheney, but there’s none as deaf as those who won’t hear.
I wonder, was it Saint Matt or Saint Pete who said that? Maybe it was, Jesus! The old, testy fundamentalists, with their farts of aggression posing as leadership, most definitely do not love the baby Jesus with his blessings of mercy and forgiveness. Some people are so deaf to sense. You can’t make a zealot hear that their zeal is misplaced.
I think that’s why The Waterfallian is here: to prove we have a different intention than the mainstream press. This is not a game – I think it is a noble attempt to express a heartfelt desire: to create peace in the world, to find a way other than divide and conquer. No more bait and switch. I’m trying to describe the human attempt to express the ineffable – but if you grasp it, it tends to slip away.

Wills: To tell the truth, it’s not easy. When people have a guilty conscience, they like to be lied to. It’s what the Bush gang counts on…

Waterfall: Like in the sixties when the Gulf of Tonkin was used to fan the Vietnam War, or in the thirties when the Nazis used the Reichstag fire to elbow their way to power, we now have these Weapons of Mass Delusion in Iraq, just another formal device in the history of corrupt statehoods to promote aggression. Jesus! … But no, not him, for he spoke in peaceful koans; we call them parables, or are they proverbs? “Put your sword up, Peter.” For repubs that’s quitters’ talk. The Pope and Cardinal align themselves with the more demented aspects of the old way: the crown, the robber barons, and the court. ’Twas always thus – the state is corrupt. Nothing I can do but say my piece. Pelosi, Kerry, Boxer, they are in the cross hairs of these god warriors. But beware – if the pig smells like aggression… Take Kerry. Where’s he at? Would he still say, “Who wants to be the last to die for a mistake?” Even Gore has found a voice of honest indignation against the war. When do we hear Kerry speak out loud for peace?

Wills: Soon. The apparatus of state does not like this war. Bush is losing it – he looks scared. I think the Christians are turning against him, with his godly violence gone awry. I got ten bucks says Bush is a one term twig. Too much Dick, too little brain…

Waterfall: Yep, It all goes back to the Manhattan Project, where Openheimer, Fuchs and Teller came up with a leap in power of what can be destroyed. Tactically it was Openheimer and Fuchs against the fascists, but the project was co-opted strategically by the rabid Republican Teller as a way for the major power to stay that way. Now it’s gone to their heads.

Wills: They are so not cool. What‘s a lad to do?

Waterfall: At the simplest level I’m reaching for a place where I can’t be threatened by some landowner’s idea of self-aggrandizement, with the loss of my home. I’m trying to describe a time when we need no more head honchos.

Act 1. Two men are in a room. It is a Tuesday morning with the breath of a fog scout overhead. In a dank, third floor, rent controlled flat, the rumpled neighbors kick-back, Wills is sitting on a dog-haired sofa, trying to get a word in, while Waterfall favors the worn armchair as he talks without pause to avoid unnecessary conversation.

Waterfall: (Balancing a plate of spaghetti and corn chips on the arm rest) What to do? (Leaves for the kitchen.)

Wills: (Looking askance at the cat which is too close for comfort.) We could talk about …

Waterfall: (He returns with the ketchup.) At the Waterfallian no one can prove we have an axe to grind. We have no axe, nor yet a grindstone. Take Rumi’s elephant. In the dark each person thought the part of the beast nearest them was the whole – mistaking the bit for the it. I’m not looking for the parts, I’m searching for the essence, I seek pure thoughts, I want simple truths¬ – such as, “There’s none as blind as them as what won’t see,” or even deaf as them as won’t hear… Was that Saint Mat or Saint Pete who said that? Maybe it was Jesus? Some Americans are deaf to sense; you can’t make a zealot hear that their zeal is misplaced. Like I said, “There’s none as deaf …”

Wills: (Glaring at the cat, which is now on the sofa picking at the loose stuffing in the split seam piping.) Americans are good people with a sense of fairness. I’m sure religious people are turning against Bush, with his godly violence gone awry.

Waterfall: (Shaking out the ketchup.) I’m trying to describe the human attempt to express the ineffable – but if you grasp it, it slips away; I’m reaching for a place where I can’t be threatened by some landowner’s idea of self-aggrandizement, with the loss of my home. I’m trying to describe a time when we need no head honchos. It all goes back, to the Manhattan Project, where they came up with a leap in power of what can be destroyed. Tactically, it was Openheimer and the socialist Fuchs, against the fascists, but the project was co-opted strategically by the rabid Republican Teller as a way for the major power to stay that way. But the cat got out the bag. Propaganda has turned peoples minds. “There’s none as deaf …”

Wills: (The cat attempts to get closer.) Propaganda: When people have a guilty conscience they like to be lied to. It’s what the Bush gang is counting on…

Waterfall: Who is Kerry now? Would he still say, ”Who wants to be the last to die for a mistake?” The people I vote for are unquestionably against pre-emptive war, the non-aligned community. I think The Waterfallian is here to prove we have a different intention from that of the right-wing press, this is not a game – this is a what I think is a noble attempt to express a heartfelt desire to create peace in the world, to find a way other than divide and conquer. No more bait and switch.
(Discovers the ketchup lid is still on.) Like in the sixties when the Gulf of Tonkin was used to fan the Vietnam War, or in the thirties when the Nazis used the Reichstag fire to elbow their way to power, we now have these Weapons of Mass Delusion in Iraq, just another formal device in the history of corrupt state hoods to promote aggression. (Too much ketchup hits the plate.) Jesus! …He spoke in koans; we call them parables, (or are they proverbs?) “Resist not evil,” is a paradox, and it was probably Peter who put in “He who lives by the sword…” The old testy fundamentalists, with their farts of aggression posing as leadership most definitely do not love the baby Jesus with his blessings of mercy and forgiveness. “Put your sword up Peter.” For them it’s quitter’s talk. The Pope and Cardinal align themselves with the more demented aspects of the old way: the crown, the robber barons, and the court. “Render unto Caesar.” ‘Twas always thus – it’s corrupt. Nothing I can do but say my piece: Pelosi, Kerry, Boxer, they are in the cross hairs of these god warriors. Be aware – if the pig smells like aggression…

Wills: (Shouting to be heard.) Hey – despite War College rhetoric, the apparatus of state does not like this war: bad for biz, many US troops and mercenaries will soon be leaving Iraq. Peace and love. (Cat jumps to floor, eats ketchup overflow. Stout parties exeunt.) Curtain.

Noto Bene, por favor: Water’ was right – the Demo’s became corrupted, and the yanks are still over there.

Waterfall was a man of ideas, tuned into a higher plane, his ideas were the stuff of goodness.

But Water’ was often unable to write a sustained, understandable whole. There were many unfinished sentences. He seldom used anything approaching a substantive verb. Water’ would talk a hundred words where one would do, he seldom finished an idea, leaving you hanging waiting for the punch-line, frequently incapable of saying anything approaching something readable, so when I wrote down what he said I’d take brief notes, edit and revise continuously and finish up the line of reasoning with my own conclusions.

As a result the pieces are:
Credited to ‘Waterfall’ if his words were unedited.
Credited to ‘Waterfall and Wills’ if, as was usual, I took notes, used some of his words and created the text.
Credited as ‘Wills and Waterfall’ if the text was mostly mine, but based loosely on Water’s idea.
If the text is credited to ‘Wills’ only, then that is entirely my work.

Over time, eight years in all, as we worked, the cooperation between us began to unravel and we disagreed more and more about our way of working, until eventually, as he realized he was dieing and as his mind began to fail, it became difficult to work together at all.

To begin with, in 2002, he ceded complete editorial control to me, while towards the end of his earthly tenure he began to demand more editorial control, which I fought against with increasing volume. We argued loudly. There would be periods where I refused to write. Plus I did not like his what I considered his tacky drawings and refused to use them unless I redrew ‘em, and he in petty return did not like mine, so the number of drawings diminished. Ah the vagaries of creative work. But it all worth it, because he had such good ideas.