The Founder Of Peace Pavilion West-The Early Years

The following is absolutely, 100% true:  Dale Lonagan is back in the news, and the usual  ‘Cult Leader or Visionary of The Modern Age?’ rumors have resurfaced.  I thought I’d add some color to this barely sketched tale of peace and progress (how did The Human Pagoda come to be)?

Not Dale Lonagan!:

218px-jim_jones_receives_the_martin_luther_king2c_jr-_humanitarian_award_-_january_1977_28229By Nancy Wong – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44427361

The backstory (indoor gamin): Dale Lonagan is the illegitimate child of an international bureaucrat and the climate change journalist sent to cover him.  Like so many orphans, Dale’s early life is one of hardship.  He was abandoned and neglected, but fortunately for humanity, he was cast adrift within the bosom of collective progress.

The lad learned to survive within the corridors of diffuse economic and unelected bureaucratic power, selling stolen hand-soap at the bathrooms and cafeterias of 405 E. 42nd St:

512px-vincent_van_gogh_-_gamin_au_kc3a9pi_28camille_roulin292c_1888Vincent van Gogh [Public domain]

For years, the boy knew only the touch of linoleum and cold marble, drifting off to sleep to the soft sursurrations of motions passing the floor.

***How the outside world may have looked to a young wharf child, peering out from within The International Style:

512px-united_nations_-_new_york2c_ny2c_usa_-_august_182c_2015_08Giorgio Galeotti [CC BY 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0)%5D, from Wikimedia Commons

‘I’d just grab the gallon bags off a the truck at the loading docks.  The 10 gallons were bigger than my head. I’d stash ’em alongside my bed (a bed made of shredded U.N. resolutions). I slept myself the world.’

Enter Marine Stroop-Gruyere, Ambassador Minister Undersecretary for the Culture Of Peace.  This committed global citizen noticed a young boy darting and wrapping himself awkwardly within a row of global flags.

After months of debates within her own heart and mind, she took action. She coaxed the young savage from a translator’s booth with morsels of locally sourced honey graham crackers sold for $13.99 a package.  Stroop-Gruyere enrolled Dale in the United Nations Tour Guide Program.

Dale blossomed, soon becoming the youngest ‘Ambassador to The Public‘ in the history of the institution.

Year after year, watching gavels lift and drop, seeing commmittees come and go, a long view developed within this growing visionary leader’s heart and mind.  Dale began to see that his thoughts, words and actions could make a difference.

He was becoming fully human.

-To Be Continued:

Here’s the latest tweet I can share from Peace Pavilion West. Not all humans agree with the latest edicts from The Human Pagoda, nor that all of (H)istory has conspired to produced Dale.

The New Yorker is fast becoming a favorite of his:

A reader sends a link to a SF Gate review of poet Jorie Graham’s ‘Sea Change:

Dale has declared this collection worthy of human concern, empathy and care.  It is your ethical duty as a global citizen:

‘In “Sea Change,” Graham becomes Prospero, casting spells by spelling out her thoughts to merge with ours, and with the voices of the elements. The result is a mingling of perceptions rather than a broadcasting of opinions. Instead of analysis, the poems encourage emotional involvement with the drastic changes overwhelming us, overwhelm- ing the planet.’

and:

‘Strengths and weaknesses, flows and ebbs, yet every poem in “Sea Change” bears memorable lines, with almost haunting (if we truly have but 10 years to “fix” global warming) images of flora and fauna under siege. Jorie Graham has composed a swan song for Earth.’

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