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The Book - We Otta All Write One

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Who else is there to do it, and what else is to be done.


I left my book only half written, just the set-up is typed, the character development and the things leading up to the big decisions we all must make before we get outta here. Its finished, but typing is another thing.


Anxiously awaiting on yall to awaken us to see.


Hare Krsna, ys mahaksadasa my unfinished (typing) is at



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<TABLE borderColor=#ffcc99 cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width=435 bgColor=#ffcc99 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=text style="WORD-WRAP: break-word" vAlign=center align=left width=300 bgColor=#ffcc99 height=17 wrap="">gHari's Blurbs</TD></TR><TR><TD><TABLE borderColor=#000000 cellSpacing=3 cellPadding=3 width=435 align=center bgColor=#ffffff border=0><TBODY><TR><TD style="WORD-WRAP: break-word" vAlign=top align=left width=435 bgColor=#ffffff>About me:

Boy on a planet spinning round and round in the middle of a galaxy composed of hundreds of thousands of millions of stars, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of millions of similar galaxies, begging the Creator to reveal His purpose for this humbling magnificent masterpiece.

Hopefully there will be enough time to clarify in "Teardrops in the Ocean of Eternity", the upcoming book inspired by my credo:


Seeking the Kingdom of God is the chief activity of life. Everything else is inconsequential -
teardrops in the ocean of eternity




I pray that one day the good Lord Krsna may shower His causeless mercy so that I may become a fit instrument in His wonderful lila of love and magnanimity



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Well, I got this far, where is the time for typing? This really aint a bad read.


Anyone know bout US Govt Grants to write a novel, NEA (Im pro NEA, all the way, by the way). Since I already got one done, maybe they could fund the publishing. Ever google govt grants? Only 126,432 items to choose from. Anyone out there wanna give me $2,000,000 seed money. I dont promise anything, except I wont buy ganja with it.




"Singing sweet melodies", Anoina so pleased to sing to he beloved associate, "This is my message to you. Don't worry bout a thing." The onset of the monsoon season guaranteed their inseparable reunification. All the waves of changes past, the family from the refuge of Huelo Point, headed for the waves to come. The monsoon season was like a time out. As the skies and the sea became more agitated and turbulent, a glow of serenity blessed the lives of Martin, Anoina, and their growing gift from Jah, Kuhio. And the weeks during Fall and early Winter of 1977 saw the great swells of Hookipa Beach. International surfing champions filled the hotels of Kahului and the North Shore breaks. When the sun rose above the horizon, Gary and Martin would be at the outside break. They would be long gone by the time the pros arrived. Anoina, too, was becoming quite well-known as an eccentric, yet she rode the huge waves like she had at Anuhola. There was an absence of competitive feelings in the water at sunrise. Michael always kidded Gary Costello's style, wide survival stance with his back to the right-breaking point. He was no one to grace a surfing magazine, but no one pictured in a magazine would be on a larger wave or in a better position on the wave than Gary. Martin w2as the same way, only sneakier and faster, and more aerodynamic. Anoina, on the other hand, had to be seen to actually conceive of her way with the power of the ocean. With her small hand board, as big as a baseball glove, she would push her leading hand straight down as her powerful legs and Churchill fins propelled her into the waves. Once in the pocket, two feet below the smoking cresty of the waves, she would drop twenty feet straight down the face, carving her own artistry with her handboard. On these waves, she had no interest to challenge the pipe, she would just get to the shoulder and pop out over the top. The pipe would be saved for her last ride of the day. Sometimes her and Martin would share a wave, sometimes all three would ride. Kewela would be sketching it all from the beach, playing with Koleka and Kuhio, Kaya, Wendy, Alana, and all who showed up. Kewela and Gary were inseparable and living in Makawao, and the mauka road between the Costello ranch and Huelo Point was well-traveled by both families. Sometimes, all six of them would just change houses, travelling the road together. It was a wonderful time of healing remedies and spiritual rebirth.


...from Kipu'ka by mahaksadasa

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The above excerpt speaks of spiritual rebirth in the fall and early winter of 1977. Orphans must mature. A grip of the sadness of separation hits me as I read the dusty tome. All glories to he who has moved from my eyes yet hides in my heart.

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from kipu'ka-di hole in di fiyeh, mahaksadasa, 1995


The sky was without clouds and a quarter moon auspiciously hung over the Shell on Christmas, 1976. Kawela and Anoina were in her dressing room backstage and they were quite nervous. Kawela was embarassed about being a beneficiary, but on the insistance of Gary Costello, the trust fund was started. Gary said it was a legacy to the family, and Kawela humbly accepted the generosity. The Benefit was sold out, and 3,000 people donated $10 each to honor a State Treasure. Even the US Navy on the occasion of the much publicized event conveyed official condolences to the Kaanakuhio Family. Anoina tried to talk Kawela on stage to sing with the band, but Kawela decided to just talk a bit about Michael's last discussions with her, his discourses on Kauai, and his opposition to racist and sectarian feelings that infect and destroy many movements for political change. Gary welcomed the crowd and thanked them for attending the event. As many volunteers were serving pupus and juice drinks, Holy Smoke snuck on stage unrecognized and unannounced. To a standing ovation to a huge slide of Michael and Kewela Kaanakuhio on the screen above the band, Holy Smoke burst into a tumultuous Tahitian drum battle between Anoina, John Anaya and Randy. Melodic and electronic riffs produced by David and Martin echoed off the Shell and reverberated to the Diamond Head Volcano. Anoina, desperate chanting of powerful wordless vocals calming down to delivery of clear, concise lyrics, sang with grave emotion:



<center>I heard the story of the burning bush,

I wondered about Jahweh.

I know it is all for the Creator's joy,

I know to live, I must play.

Messaiah says to be just like a child

And give up all fear today.

It is up to me to cry, to die for His Kingdom.

We are not alone, Messaiah takes us home,

Shows us the way to His Kingdom.

A tribute to the teachers, who, despite Babylon,

Show us the way to His Kingdom.

A tribute to the martyr, a tribute to the Dread,

A tribute to the ones who give life to the dead.

They cry, they die for His Kingdom.


The Shahman said to me, "Be an Israelite,

Do not give credance to the pain.

The chosen people, they live in Zion,

Never to be cheated again.

To Babylon, the Lord causes them dread,

leaving them totally insane.

Rude men do not know how to cry, to die for His Kingdom."


What you may see as a conspiracy

Is just a symptom, when life

Comes to stay in mind and form

To stir up the trouble and strife.

Do what you do and off you go,

But you never give up your life.

You teach the world how to cry, how to die for His Kingdom.


</center> Anoina again was crushed by the memory of the passing of her friend. Tears flowed from her eyes as she sat in her chair looking away from the audience. Martin went into an intense guitar solo, ending with a sustained note in unison with the keyboards. As the drums faded into a barely audible dirge and then into silence, the silence continued for nearly fifteen seconds, when Michael welcomed the audience and thanked them for their attendance. The crowd gave "Tribute" an extended standing ovation. Martin continued, "I never marched with Michael Kaanakuhio. We surfed Hookipa beach alone, when everyone left the break as the waves reached 18 feet. I only have known Michael and Kewela for seven months, yet they are my true friends. I speak in the present when I speak of Michael, because, though he is away, he will always be here. Activism for human rights will continue as will his deeper message of living for the pleasure for the Creator. So the songs we play in tribute to the Kaanakuhios are tributes to the Ruler of us all." Anoina then began on the conga drums again with David holding an eerie synthesized chord from his keyboard. Anoina was chanting the Hawaiian lyrics in tribute to the sun. The band played on for forty-five more minutes to the excitement and approval of all in the audience.


The documentary, accompanied by Holy Smoke instrumentals, was also well received, followed by a short eulogy by Gary Costello. After telling stories of their friendship, he thanked the audience for their kind concern for the beneficiary, Kewela Kaanakuhio. Kawelka was backstage, talking to Anoina about their futures. She was planning to go back to Poli Poli when her child was born, and was glad that Gary was caretaking the 2 acres in her absence. She was very grateful to her old friend, and was going to be glad to be back home. She also told Anoina that she was not going to involve hersoel with Hana Ohana, not because of philosophical differences, but for indifference. She knew that she was not Michael, she was a mother, like the painting she was doing, nurturer, caretaker, and teacher of the culture.

Anoina, knowing that she would not see Kawela for a few months, wished her well for the birth of her child, saying, "It is O Jahovia, who, by His wlll alone, we move, we sing, we are born, we die, we are the vehicles of His creation. We are His Own, and He gives us shelter eternally. In states of shock and grief, we forget His Love, be He never forgets us, always bringing us back to His Refuge. I'll be excited at your return and you must feel free to live forever at Huelo Point. Poli Poli is too isolated, but I'll visit you, and, of course, I'm sure you'll be at Hookipa often. Give my warmest regards to your nice parents."



Kawela left the dressing room and walked with her parents to the stage area. They had to get back to Hauula, as the farm required early rising every morning. They would leave during "O Jahovia" by Holy Smoke. As Kawela was prepared to speak, the ampitheater was silent. Her voice was breaking up and tears welled up in her eyes. Looking to Anoina and Martin, she smiled sweetly and sighed deeply as she continued to speak. She honored her parents and the Hauula homestead., she spoke of the holy ground on Poli Poli Ridge, and spoke of the power of the sea and the volcano. Then she spoke of her most intimate associate and husband:



"Michael spoke strongly against the 80 years of illegal occupation of the Hawaiian Kingdom. He did not back down on any of the issues. However, if the people of Hawaii became the enemy of anyone, Michael knew that all was lost. The Hawaiian people must symbolize the spirit of Aloha and must welcome all who come to these islands for refuge. Otherwise, they are not faithful to the Creator, for we, too, sought refuge. His ideas, though not well understood by the masses, were devoid of ethnicity. He knew the Creator's desire, as carved in the petroglyphs by the ancient Kahunas, that all humankind live in Aloha as one. Michael was never rude to a tourist, his long time associate was a real estate developer, and the lawmakers were never to have seen him act in anger. His heart burned, however, at the sight of the old families kicked out of their shacks in the banana plantations and cane fields and forced to live in tenement complexes. He could not stomach seeing the young hawaiian families living in tent cities in Waimanalo and Nanakuli while bulldozers laid waste their stolen homesteads. He spoke loudly against legal tricks performed by the greedy that left forth generation farmers without deeds to their heritage. His actions were not borne of rage, stained by revenge, not were they meant for public embarassment. He went to Kahoolawe not to offend the Navy, he served them honorably for four years in Southeast Asia. He knew of a heiau containing petroglyphic messages of prophecy. The spirit of Aloha welcomes all races, all humankind, to join the kingdom. But before the healing of humankind can experiance this joining, the destroyers of the creation must not be allowed to continue."



"Michael was not simply a local issue, for he was in solidarity with the Human Beings of the Lakota Nations, the Maori of New Zealand, the Makai, Aliuts, and all the true Israelites of the world who wander without homelands. Michael also told me of how the European, Asian, and Afrikan who seek refuge in the heritage of Aloha should be accepted and treated as Alii. His last public appearances in Kauai, he warned his Hawaiian family to guard against feeling of racial aloofness, that many can be trapped by ignorance if their desire to hold onto their heritage causes them to banish others seeking refuge."



"I am overwhelmed at the kindness all of you have shown. Michael is here, as is his child, to hear me profess my familial ties to all who seek refuge in the hands of the Creator. I welcome and honor the strength and wisdom given to me by my Maui friendss, whom I would not be able to survive without. I'll let them play for me and my child, play for Michael, play for you wonderful people, and play for the Creator, O Jahovia."



To a heartfelt approval and Aloha expressed by the audience, Kawela and Anoina sang, "O Jahovia - One Love - One God - Praise Him", as Martin rang out the anthem of Jah's Kingdom, and 3,000 hearts were struck with wonder. Kawela and her parents disappeared while the band played, chanted, and praised O Jahovia for another hour. The crowd left in total silence, a tribute to Jah's Kingdom. Martin and Anoina and their yet nameless child took the midnight plane to Maui. As they passed Hookipa Beach, and the sun was rising, they saw a shadow of Michael Kaanakuhio deep within a 25 foot wave. They silently bade their good friend Aloha. Filled with the golry of Jah's Creation, they were ready to receive the gift of life, so they were pleased to return to the refuge of Huelo Point.

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