Clinton St. Quarterly, Vol. 7 No. 1 | Spring 1985

r <#* * " %' M* ** „ 4 < ^ 4 ^ 0 % ^ S»»*!SS ■•><<£.. .„ ; s * » * & . , ; . ■■ We got a lot of writers there: dull-eyed fellows with exposes of Scientology, anti- vivisectionists with tracts, punk rock poets with epics, pro-Nazi social philosophers with polemics, random nerds, nincompoops, noodniks and now this old guy. ME, BUCKMINSTER FULLER, BIG JIM, AND THE VERBALIFE PERFECTION OASIS By Gary Stallings Photo-Painting by Marly Stone N y i&OlMtKjty ■■ D igjim just stopped coming around. I don’t know why. My personal, and admittedly somewhat whimsical theory’ is that he was called homefrom his mission and returned to Venus. But then again, last time I saw him he was talking about leaving for the self-proclaimed State of Northern Idaho (a state of mind, according to those who proclaimed it). That’s a distinct possibility for Jim. State of mind is what he was all about. Big Jim was a missionary with no converts, and only God knew what authenticity. Many people dismissed him out-of- hand as a kook. I was one of those myself at first. And although I never learned to believe, or even understand him, I at least learned to wonder. Buck- minister Fuller is at least partially responsible for that because not long after he showed up I tried to repair one of the many holes in my education by reading Fuller, who writes sentences such as: “Critical- path elements are not overlapping linear modules in a plane: they are systematically interspiralClinton St. Quarterly 45