Thursday, November 25, 2004

The Cell-Phone's Ringing but You Been Done and Gone.

There’s a bumper sticker that says, “Do you think you’d drive any better with that cell-phone jammed up your ass?” I suppose that’s a legitimate question. It is certainly a fine image for those of us who are occasionally intimidated by some cosmetic queen at the wheel of a Lexus SUV late for her appointment to sell the shit out of a bungalow in Beverly.

For those of us who find a great deal of what we observe to be the product of wrong observations, poor observation, skewered goals, dreadful ambitions and the moment to moment unhorsing of the true god within and the supplanting of the false self in place of; this link should prove refreshing.

There’s an argument for crisis workers to have cell-phone capacity. I wager most cell-phone conversations go on between teenage girls with the IQ of a retarded potato. Most of the discussions involve an equally unintelligent vegetable you will be able to name without my having to do so. If we could find a way to harness the energy released by pointless cell-phone calls, the friction produced by the rubbing of obese people’s thighs and the collective conversations in bars and restaurants we could light and heat every home in North America. And remember, these are all growth industries.

Alright, I’ve done the amusing thing so let’s move on. I don’t think there’s anyone, no matter how dumbed down they may have become, who is unaware of the implications of a hamster on a treadmill. I can’t help over-estimating perceptual abilities being an optimist and having very strong personal justifications for being so- though not compelled to further explain at this time. So, let me ask you these questions- “Are you where you thought you would be when you thought about where you might be at this time?” “Do you know where you’re headed?” “Do you know why?” “When you say, ‘I’ who are you talking about?” “Do you watch yourself inside your head?” “Do you believe the thoughts in your head originate there?” “How much command do you have over yourself?” “Who are you?”

There is something going here and you don’t know what it is, whether you’re Mr. Jones or Mrs. Smith or any number of the warm bodies passing you on their way to buy something, eat something, do something, fuck or be fucked by something. Here in the world of appetites, routine is the mean. Greased rails extend from the cradle to grave. Nothing satisfies and the only thing the rich possess that the poor do not is the illusion that they are better off. Of course the do get a different class of disease and more access to the skin stretchers.

Considering how long this has been going on I shouldn’t be telling you anything you don’t know. When you look back at history do you ever make the connection to the future? Have you read Spengler? Do you wonder how it is that every time the tables are turned the same people are still sitting there?

Okay, seen realistically, the world is a 24/7 graveyard of hungry ghosts marching through the land of eternal appetite. You know this. You know that the same thing seems to keep repeating itself. There’s this idea of progress but... Well creature comforts are certainly being addressed. Whatever the body wants the body gets until the tape ends.

Well now, if, as it seems, life and the objectives of most people living are insane what do you do? What do you do if you’re not satisfied with chasing your tail or burning down the house you live in?

My mother-in-law watches television all the time. I think I could say she lives there. I’ve been around long enough to know that a good portion of everyone winds up there. The lights are on but no one’s home. The TV’s on. The radio’s on. The refrigerator is singing. The flesh is spreading. The dreams died early and went to act out in the lives of actors playing at the firm limits of what is allowed; the common brutality and indifference of the casual hungers, interests and plots of the replicating echo. Everyone should objectively (if possible- it’s harder than you think) watch TV for a week and then analyze what features of life, the mind and heart are missing; see if you can figure what’s going on.

Meanwhile you move, day by day, minute by minute toward the wide gaping jaws of the unknown. Think about it. Increment by increment, moment by moment you are going where? “Why are you here?” Really, “What are you doing here?” You see all the flashing lights of the Las Vegas stage set in miniature multiplied all about. The store fronts yawn like vampire hookers on a bad acid trip. The sidewalks are imbedded with the soup fixing’s of some nightmare Thanksgiving. Those are NOT real palm trees. You’d like to make yourself pretty but you are getting old and that is now unofficially a crime. Even worse, you have not become interesting. You live in a world of millions of people nodding with little interest as they await their turn to speak. And even worse, no one has anything to say.

Is it any wonder that a cosmic spanking awaits down the road? It is for your own good. Whenever you get lost in the department store on your way to Elysian Fields it’s necessary to destroy the store; sorry about that. The inconvenience of a temporary death is preferable if it means you’re back on the right road again. It would be nice if it could be avoided though and that is a personal choice.

One of the biggest mysteries, surprises and disappointments is what people settle for in themselves, considering what they are capable of. You’re God you know. Or rather let us say, you’re the house built for the guest who got shoved out the back when you let those other people in.

The only requirement is to try hard and stay fixed to the goal, knowing that you cannot fail if you do so. Here is what The Upanishads says about what you are when you achieve to your real destiny; the reason why you are here, the reason why this whole confusing flaming stage set was created.

“A perfect fool in one place, all royal splendor in another; at times in fond delusion, at times in entire peace and quiet; often in the slothful indifference of the boa; the subject of the highest encomiums in one place, in another all contempt, in a third entirely unknown- thus goes about the wise knower, ever happy in the highest bliss.”

You have a lot to be thankful for. It’s a real shame you don’t take advantage of any of it. “Oops, there goes my cell. Would you hang on? I’ve got to take this.”

Better not ask for whom the cell-phone rings.


Anonymous said...

Not wanting to sound too much like your "newley"(?sp.) arived fan club, I do want to acknowledge appreciation for philosophism put forth with grace. haven

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

damn I wish I'd said that. But I've been dead for a long time already haven't I? It's a long way from those spidered roads to Rome.


You haven't seen Portia anywhere have you?

Anonymous said...

absofuckinlutely brilliant! You are on a roll. Mr. Visible you got it going on. Cell-phones, hah!!!


Visible said...

why thank you all kindly. It is much appreciated. Thank you Haven- hearing nice things from you has extraordinary meaning for me since you are not one to toss anything favorable around lightly (grin)

Knowing that these pieces get written is the inspiration for writing them. It wouldn't get done otherwise. I owe you big time.

Visible said...

shit!!! that's supposed to be READ, that they get READ. I'm either an idiot or a dyslexic freudian prototype without the entertaining respite of an actual sex act; real or imagined.

Anonymous said...

Man, we stole some horses in Budapest this Spring did we not? I love you brother. You taught me some things about that and you taught me how to fight- there ain't nothing better. I just found this. Christine told me you had some kind of thing on the internet. What the fuck is a blog? It sounds like a venereal condition. You are writing your ass off! I still haven't gotten over that novel you sent me. You must be doing good, traveling all over the world and, I'm sure, still waltzing all those ladies (yeah, I know you're married now but old habits die hard). Answer your damn emails! I'm one of your best friends and I have to try to reach you like this? Karen and Jills and Martin send their best. I can't believe youre still alive and I had to wake up in the morning and you still hadn't made it back to the hotel. Much love as you well know. I'm coming over next year again we got that date in Mother Russia. Whoooeeeeee!! I promise to stay out late this time. If you don't write me soon I'm going to (try and) stick my cellphone up your ass. Seriously though, great work. There never was anyone like you. If only these people knew you in real life. I'm laughing. Lots of love you know that. Willis here, like I always am.

I'm a few cocktails to the wind right now.

Anonymous said...

where is todays article. i've been by all day but nothing. it would be nice.

z a

Anonymous said...

still waiting...

z a

if you're busy well okay but just so you know it's like good Scotch for some of us burned in the cask.

Anonymous said...

You need a professional to do some work on your web site. Your art is remarkable though. Look forward to more.

Richard Waters
Miami, Florida

Visible said...

Hi everybody. I took a trip to Crete and I just got back. I'll try to post something tomorrow but I may be dog tired as juiced as I feel right now.

But I have a request. Please don't send me any more posts from Slate and The Fray. I'm not interested in what people have to say about me, it's why I left. I don't go there and I don't want to know about it. I appreciate what you say in my defense and I understand the spirit in which it is given but please don't do it. Accidents happen and Fritz Gerlich is one of the few people for whom I have an unqualified respect. I know he couldn't stand me once and for all I know it may still be so but I would rather he never be involved in anything that has to do with me and the mongrel dogs. He's a brilliant writer who has done me no harm in some long while. Whoever attacked him, while acting out of what may pass for good intentions, did him and me and themselves a diservice. I thank you for trying but I beg you; desist. Few people there will listen to any reasonable thing.

I don't want to know what baldtony or schadenfreude have to say about me. They are minor walkon's in the drama of life, lacking both talent and fire. You shouldn't concern yourself with them. They don't mean anything to anyone including themselves. One of them drinks too much and has no faith, trust me, he lives in Hell. the other was sexually abused by a male religious figure and became an alcoholic. I understand he is supposed to be in recovery but he is on a sustained dry drunk.

As for the later, I am cutting him some slack. He knew better than to say anything while I was there but now I am gone. Now he's just feeling his oats. Maybe he will stop. If he doesn't I have written a devastatingly funny song a la "Pawn in Their Game" about his life and it's details using his real name. If he persists I will record it and put it on Soundclick and use my mailing list to take it to number 1 in the Country charts. I'll link to it all over the internet with an accent on San Diego. He will rue the day. So remember, I have all the artillery I need. I don't need backup to deal with these punks. Just let it go. It circumstances dictate believe me, I will aquit myself well and if it is a Slate thing and it gets out of hand with any of the others, I will get my friend Bill to go in there and tear them a new asshole. Let's just go our way and do it all here.

One of the hardest things in life is to learn that you can't make people love you. You also learn to your chagrin that when you get popular people resent you- period. Everyone else wishes those good things were being said about them and I understand that. My talents as much a cross a a blessing.

I had to hear today what Jack Dallas had to say about me. I defended that man and thought he was a friend. But in true Texas fashion I have seen the rattlesanke within. I would have rather never known. Do you copy? Please don't send me any more of this stuff. I can go there on my own if I am of a mind and I am not. That place no longer even exists. End of story and thank you for your consideration. I love your loyalty I will try not to let you down. god Bless you one and all.

I've been shit with my emails I will write you all soon. I am here until after Christmas now so just give me a few days- especially you J.O. I'll get it done.

Much Love.

Anonymous said...

Now that is precisely why we love you Les. Don't you let them get you down and use your tools when you must. You should know that any attention you give these people just makes them stronger. They are riding your coattails. I expect that song will probably be as good as your 911 work and, truth be told, I WANT TO HEAR IT! There is an argument for not doing it too though and I think you know what that is. No matter what, I am behind you 1000 percent.

I really look forward to your writing. I find myself rereading and going to your music again and again. I have to say you are like a drug and I am addicted. An even better compliment would be that I don't read anyone else with frequency.


Anonymous said...


I could not agree more. You're back! Outrageous!!!!!! and waiting.

z a



Visit the recommended reading page for many more.


'I Need More Light' from the Les Visible Album
God in Country

Visit the Blog Music Page
to stream all of Visible's music for free
(purchase is always appreciated but entirely optional)


A classic Visible post:

With gratitude to Patrick Willis.

Click here to watch and comment on Vimeo and here to read the original text.

Visit the Blog Videos Page for many more.