Larry Yes & his Radical Positivity installation

 

THE OPEN ROAD

peace, love, happiness & understanding

 

The day will come when we all agree 

that we should live in harmony 

and we will know and we will see 

how we’re all connected. We’re all family.

All the people, the plants, the animals, the birds, the seas.

 

—from the song “Live in Harmony” on the album “Everyone on This Planet Is Family” by Larry Yes

 

June 4, 2026

 

Ken Margolis gave me a copy of the Spring 2026 issue of “Emergency Horse,” which contained an article by David Turnbull on the Republic of Užupis. Užupis is a “micro-nation” or “artistic republic,” occupying about two and-a-half square miles in the center of Vilnius, which I’m sure you know is the capital of Lithuania. Ken and I both fully endorse the Constitution of Užupis which, when translated into English, reads:

 

1. Everyone has the right to live by the River Vilnelė, and the River Vilnelė has the right to flow by everyone.
2. Everyone has the right to hot water, heating in winter and a tiled roof.
3. Everyone has the right to die, but this is not an obligation.
4. Everyone has the right to make mistakes.
5. Everyone has the right to be unique.
6. Everyone has the right to love.
7. Everyone has the right not to be loved, but not necessarily.
8. Everyone has the right to be undistinguished and unknown.
9. Everyone has the right to be idle.
10. Everyone has the right to love and take care of the cat.
11. Everyone has the right to look after the dog until one of them dies.
12. A dog has the right to be a dog.
13. A cat is not obliged to love its owner, but must help in time of need.
14. Sometimes everyone has the right to be unaware of their duties.
15. Everyone has the right to be in doubt, but this is not an obligation.
16. Everyone has the right to be happy.
17. Everyone has the right to be unhappy.
18. Everyone has the right to be silent.
19. Everyone has the right to have faith.
20. No one has the right to violence.
21. Everyone has the right to appreciate their unimportance.
22. No one has the right to have a design on eternity.
23. Everyone has the right to understand.
24. Everyone has the right to understand nothing.
25. Everyone has the right to be of any nationality.
26. Everyone has the right to celebrate or not celebrate their birthday.
27. Everyone shall remember their name.
28. Everyone may share what they possess.
29. No one can share what they do not possess.
30. Everyone has the right to have brothers, sisters and parents.
31. Everyone may be independent.
32. Everyone is responsible for their freedom.
33. Everyone has the right to cry.
34. Everyone has the right to be misunderstood.
35. No one has the right to make another person guilty.
36. Everyone has the right to be individual.
37. Everyone has the right to have no rights.
38. Everyone has the right to not to be afraid.
39. Do not defeat
40. Do not fight back
41. Do not surrender

*

 

The Constitution of Užupis reminded me of Eduardo Galeano’s “The Right to Dream.” Eduardo Galeano is author of the astonishing, beautiful, heartbreaking and inspiring 3- volume history of Latin America, Memory of Fire.

 

The Right to Dream

 

In 1948 and again in 1976, the United Nations proclaimed long lists of human rights, but the immense majority of humanity enjoys only the rights to see, hear and remain silent. Suppose we start by exercising the never-proclaimed right to dream? Suppose we rave a bit? Let’s set our sights beyond the abominations of today to divine another possible world:

 

the air shall be cleansed of all poisons except those born of human fears and human passions;

in the streets, cars shall be run over by dogs;

people shall not be driven by cars, or programmed by computers, or bought by supermarkets, or watched by televisions;

the TV set shall no longer be the most important member of the family and shall be treated like an iron or a washing machine;

people shall work for a living instead of living for work;

written into law shall be the crime of stupidity, committed by those who live to have or to win, instead of living just to live like the bird that sings without knowing it and the child who plays unaware that he or she is playing;

in no country shall young men who refuse to go to war go to jail, rather only those who want to make war;

economists shall not measure living standards by consumption levels or the quality of life by the quantity of things;

cooks shall not believe that lobsters love to be boiled alive;

historians shall not believe that countries love to be invaded;

politicians shall not believe that the poor love to eat promises;

earnestness shall no longer be a virtue, and no-one shall be taken seriously who can’t make fun of himself;

death and money shall lose their magical powers, and neither demise nor fortune shall make a virtuous gentleman of a rat;

no-one shall be considered a hero or a fool for doing what he believes is right instead of what serves him best;

the world shall wage war not on the poor but rather on poverty, and the arms industry shall have no alternative but to declare bankruptcy;

food shall not be a commodity nor shall communications be a business, because food and communication are human rights;

no-one shall die of hunger, because no-one shall die of overeating;

street children shall not be treated like garbage, because there shall be no street children;

rich kids shall not be treated like gold, because there shall be no rich kids;

education shall not be the privilege of those who can pay;

the police shall not be the curse of those who cannot pay;

justice and liberty, Siamese twins condemned to live apart, shall meet again and be reunited, back to back;

a woman, a black woman, shall be president of Brazil, and another black woman shall be president of the United States; an Indian woman shall govern Guatemala and another Peru;

in Argentina, the crazy women of the Plaza de Mayo shall be held up as examples of mental health because they refused to forget in a time of obligatory amnesia;

the Church, holy mother, shall correct the typos on the tablet of Moses and the Sixth Commandment shall dictate the celebration of the body;

the Church shall also proclaim another commandment, the one God forgot: You shall love nature, to which you belong;

clothed with forests shall be the deserts of the world and of the soul;

the despairing shall be paired and the lost shall be found, for they are the ones who despaired and lost their way from so much lonely seeking;

we shall be compatriots and contemporaries for all who have a yearning for justice and beauty, no matter where they were born or where they lived, because the borders of geography and time shall cease to exist;

perfection shall remain the boring privilege of the gods, while in our bungling, messy world every night shall be lived as if it were the last and every day as if it were the first.

 

—Eduardo Galeano (born: September 3, 1940; died: April 13, 2015)

*

 

Eduardo Galeano’s “The Right to Dream” reminded me of Larry Yes’ song “Live in Harmony” and I thought I might include the lyrics in this issue, but then I wondered if I had already done that in a previous issue. I had. I found it by going to the Open Road website, clicking on EVENTS, and typing in “Live in Harmony.” In the 2025 June issue—exactly one year ago—you can find the lyrics to two of Larry’s songs, “Live in Harmony” and “Free: Everyone on This Planet is Family.” In that same issue, there are more inspiring words from Nick Swift, Dustin Jamison, Rocky Hutchinson, Ken Margolis and Jude Russell. (Since that time, both Rocky and Dustin have gotten out of prison. Hooray!!!) Here’s a link to that issue:

 

https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-6-5-25/

 

The whimsy in these lists—“A dog has a right to be a dog” and “in the streets, cars shall be run over by dogs”—reminds me of the whimsy of Borges’ Celestial Emporium of Benevolent Knowledge, an “ancient Chinese encyclopedia,” where animals are divided into the following categories: 

 

a) those that belong to the Emperor

b) embalmed ones

c) those that are trained

d) suckling pigs

e) sirens (or mermaids)

f) fabulous ones

g) stray dogs

h) those included in the present classification

i) those that tremble as if they were mad

j) innumerable ones

k) those drawn with a very fine camelhair brush

l) others

m) those that have just broken a flower vase

n) those that from a long way off look like flies

 

—Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986)

*

 

…which, by a mysterious alchemy in my brain, reminds me of…

 

Ode to things

 

I have a crazy,

crazy love of things.

I like pliers,

and scissors. 

I love

cups, 

rings,

and bowls – 

not to speak, or course,

of hats.

I love

all things,

not just

the grandest, 

also

the 

infinite-

ly

small – 

thimbles, 

spurs,

plates,

and flower vases.

 

Oh yes,

the planet 

is sublime!

It’s full of pipes

weaving

hand-held

through tobacco smoke,

and keys

and salt shakers – 

everything,

I mean,

that is made 

by the hand of man, every little thing: 

shapely shoes,

and fabric,

and each new

bloodless birth

of gold,

eyeglasses

carpenter’s nails,

brushes,

clocks, compasses, 

coins, and the so-soft

softness of chairs.

 

Mankind has 

built 

oh so many

perfect

things!

Built them of wool

and of wood, 

of glass and

of rope: 

remarkable

tables, 

ships, and stairways.

 

I love

all

things,

not because they are

passionate

or sweet-smelling

but because,

I don’t know,

because

this ocean is yours,

and mine; 

these buttons

and wheels

and little

forgotten

treasures,

fans upon

whose feathers

love has scattered

its blossoms,

glasses, knives and

scissors – 

all bear

the trace

of someone’s fingers

on their handle or surface,

the trace of a distant hand

lost

in the depths of forgetfulness.

 

I pause in houses,

streets and 

elevators

touching things,

identifying objects

that I secretly covet; 

this one because it rings,

that one because 

it’s as soft

as the softness of a woman’s hip,

that one there for its deep-sea color,

and that one for its velvet feel.

 

O irrevocable 

river

of things: 

no one can say

that I loved

only

fish, 

or the plants of the jungle and the field, 

that I loved

only

those things that leap and climb, desire, and survive.

It’s not true: 

many things conspired

to tell me the whole story.

Not only did they touch me,

or my hand touched them: 

they were

so close

that they were a part

of my being,

they were so alive with me

that they lived half my life

and will die half my death.

 

—Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)