On a Serious tip in ‘09

All right enough tom foolery, enough poppycock. Enough tiddlywinks for one eve. No more balderdash, no cockamamie lies nor half baked stories about Islands with Volcano’s that spew cold beer.

Life is pretty banal, I would say almost boring here in Denver Colorado, circa 2009. I do feel as though I am in transition. My writing transcends the boredom-that’s the power of the imagination and writing. It can be combined to overcome the pure banality of existence.

I like the idea of a desert Island with a large Pagan statue with a human face. To me that represents man’s anthropomorphic quest for enlightenment. I took a stab at figuring it all out but put that one on hold.

Work is steady but can be boring. At the same time i can get swept away and end up working 60 hours on some project if I am not careful what I sign up for. Than again that’s the Property Biz.

I prefer to spend my spare time dreaming about living on an imaginary Island where I am the king stud. It is now my dream to merge that dream with my reality. Maybe we can meet in the middle? Everyday the Future Vanishes in front of my eyes. Gravity is indeed heavy and we are always falling-lest we forget how to get up.

Know I am interested in the esoteric Chinese art called Chin Na. It is simultaneously a method of attacking and healing. I love these strange self-contained systems of pure dichotomy. It is a necessary progression to which I have struck a strange path which has led down many weird avenues. I feel immersed in guilt and social awkwardness but my quest for enlightenment remains in front of me. When we see the old avenues as suddenly new, the old places as new and suddenly vibrant; we re-invent ourselves and slip into the void of cosmic change-a sort of Tao-ist uber-reality. It is through that marshy swamp I am now wading….it is opposition-the Yin/Yang which is foundational to a new understanding.

Holiday Greetings and happy birthday 666 in ‘09

It is now 43 years and three days from the birthday of our lord, who died three days after, on June 9th, his third birthday- from a freak fall from his tricycle out of a three story building on 7th avenue in New York City on June 9, 1969-6/9/69. Though only three years old, our lord lived a great and momentous life. The three hell hounds, the six brothers and sisters he left behind all mourned his passing and short window, him being the seventh son of a seventh son, his father father the sixth son of a sixth son. With six Grand Uncles, 6 great aunts, and six siblings, this man, who left us on the third day of the third year of his life, plummeting three stories to the ground on 7th ave. whilst riding upon his three wheeler will be missed twofold.

In time shall another come, for there are those much like him who survived and for all those I say Happy Birthday 6/6/66 at 43. A very momentous occasion but the hidden cipher is still shrouded-be this the false holiday for a graven image-oh cursed one-the storm shall begit another who was begot of the begotten.

On the third day of my creation myth, My Tiki Falcon God created a volcanic Island whose lava took on the consistency and temperature of Lager beer. It is to this imaginary Island I am know returning…..

May all your deeds of good or ill be returned sevenfold

The Clear in ‘09

With the Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus on the turntable I resume tapping on this electronic tablet. Clarity is a level reached by few. It gives one the ability to see through reality in a new way. As to whether there is any dogmatic truth to any of it, that is only known by some wooden idol on some far away Island. Underneath every wooden statue are the Islanders that created it. Behind it, around, all over the Island. The idol sees all, and hears all but remains d & d and blind to it all. We stand among it and from it seek all the answers to it’s eternal life.

When we look into the depths of our soul we see nothing. There is only interpretation and its lense is thin.  I imagine this large wooden statue off on some far away Island-lost within the Horse latitudes. Within this wooden statue-large in scale-resides the ultimate dogmatic truth. All other systems of belief are erroneous in my imaginary belief system. Let’s say everyday I work toward making my imaginary Island real. My belief system becomes reprogrammed by the mega-data with which I bombard my sensory ciphers and censures. Soon my imaginary Island becomes real to me and now I feel it is my duty, my task, the uber-undertaking of my life; to enlighten others to the truth that I have found. Suddenly I, the witch doctor seek power. I look for others like myself to become my allies, I look for others who I feel are easily controlled to be my humble servants. I analyze all the master/slave psychological widgets in our modern and not so modern society. I master them, I utilize them. In the end I build my Island just the way I imagined it. I lead the Isrealites out of Egypt on to my Island. It is than that I proceed to systematically enslave them. All epistemological and metaphysical knowledge becomes controlled and censured. I build the huge wooden Idol but it is really me that I am building. In my little fantasy have I created a new religion or have I become God?

It is with these thoughts I will leave you on this brilliant early summer’s eve. I am know pleasantly, somewhat lightly intoxicated with a few Shiner beers from some German town in Texas. Not only is everything bigger and better in Texas, but they also got everything down ther’. As for Scientology and my little Island-they could be one in the same. I have become clear-my little graven image is the real McCoy-all your stuff about heavan and hell and all the virgins you get is pure cockamammy. You will fall down at the gates of what your belief system calls hell, you’ll cross the River Styx Like River Phoenix on some bunk designer heroin. YOu will be humbled and forever enslaved by my wooden Tiki Totemic Thunder Falcon Earth God. It’s face appears underneath its feathered outer costume and peers at you, eyes yellowy and bloodshot and wants your life stuff so it can feed its Monster Ego. Long live the Wooden Island Statue God. Clarity is mine-the clarity of Scientology. PS. this is for you and your checkbook to read before the next retreat.

All Praises! If Elron has re-incarnated-please give me a call-it’s lonely out here in bwain dwamage land!!!!!!!!Being the only one of sound mind I am sounding off…It’s Wednesday night, June 3rd, 2009 and it is three days until the 42nd anniversary of the anti-christ’s second coming. (unfortunately he died in a tricycle accident at the age of three-go figure…..)

Slime for ‘09

As to not offend the sensibilities of anyone I will know longer make references to Rock and Roll bands that I vaguely remember. I realize fully that there is a depth in the legacy of western music and a pretension in spewing forth diarrhea like volcanic mud and “hating” on the cultural legacy, the genre specific attributes,  and the cross-cultural import of any commercially successful band’s legacy. Therefore references to bands such as April Wine will no longer continue.

I do remember somehow the Edgar Winter band from my discarded youth, perhaps a bit before my time, a complete visual spectacle-long live albinos in Rock and Roll! The tune Frankenstein is actually from his band’s early 70’s stand as one of the most viable working bands for small to medium venues in the USA.  It surprised me to finally make the link between this song and artist as this song is familiar to most people who listen to the rock and roll stations on the radio. Yes, the computers that run these corporate entities love this song. I like the many layers of meaning that putting this song into this space, this place, and this time reveals to me-to my sick but rational mind. To my Logos-yes it is clear just like the upper levels of Scientology are to its followers-yes-CLEAR>>>>>

Of course if early seventies fashion/glam rock is repulsive to you than gloss over this one. One of the great classics of Albino Glam Rock-long live the Winter brothers-Edgar and Johnny. I don’t even know if they are among the living.

Back to the Frankenstein thing-here we are in the modern age and isn’t technology a creature that has become animated with the ethereal stuff that makes life life? Yes, technology is alive and walking like a lumbering clumsy giant, pieced together in some human chop shop, from disparate limbs dug up from the local graveyard by some mad scientist.  Where would are lives be without all these gizmo’s-could I live without my cell phone, my computer, what if I couldn’t write a blog? What if all I had was a tape recorder? What if all I had was a stone tablet and a chisel?  I couldn’t spew forth this barrage of information.

Today I am standing on the cusp of a new reality-I don’t know where it is or how indeed it will itself manifest. This new reality is staring at me through the lenses of clarity. Yes, once again, like some evil Scientologist I have acheived Clarity-CLEAR>>>>

A Few thoughts for the day

1. Zombies are not real.

2. Scientology is a religion for people who fear that Zombies might be real.

3. Oriental restaurants shouldn’t be entirely staffed by Mexicans

4. Mexican Restaurants shouldn’t be entirely staffed by Orientals

5. I think Al Gore is an ET. (Hint this is a Cartesian style riddle)

6. There is no logical train of events-Chaos theory is the answer to everything.

7. If meditation is for Hippies than why not hold the next Woodstock in Mumbai?

8. Elephants would make better sacred Animals than Cows but they are harder to pick up after.

9. Worshipping false idols might be against biblical teachings but it can be fun!

I am now sitting in the DAZE haze, the fog. I am both busy and idle at the same time. My life is somehow productive though. It is through this kind of clarity that is achieved through fog-the Clear, that I am entering into the upper levels of advanced Scientology without actually practicing the religion or whatever it is. I haven’t sweated in a steam room listening to subliminal tapes. As far as I know I haven’t had sex with any aliens. I am now listening to the great Chico Hamilton and entering the total relaxation zone-the Clear. God save the Scientologists. Nietzsche said God is Dead or words to that effect but what he meant was man’s spirituality is dying. I can see this now easily through the clear. Everything is so transparent to me know-I have mastered Dianetics without ever reading the book or spending hundred’s of thousands of dollars on retreats to some spooky bible camp where they don’t read the bible-(at least not the one you find in your hotel room before you get to screwing someone’s wife.)

I am sitting on this Island-kind of like L.Ron Hubbard did when he was evading the IRS in the last days of his life.  kind of feel like if I met Elron we would’ve been friends. And I could  lead a pilgrimage without any pilgrams. I could through pure will and power-powerful charisma-create a pilgramage. We’ll all get on the boat and get sick together, dying on the high seas of malnutrition as we sail to a new land. Our gene pool will be small,our children will be glassy eyed and slow. Their children will be retaded and die in the harsh North American wilderness circa 1605. We will start a new country, a new world, a new religion, we won’t screw or slaughter any barnyard animals during our sacred rites. We will poke out the imaginary eyeballs of large, slimy, earth worms. When we punch out there eyes we punch into goeey living flesh, the underbelly of all of our combined existence-our Dasein. We are now clear-power to tScientology without Dianetics-I am clear!