Tuesday, January 29, 2008

One Mad Intoxicated Dream

The body is a dream. It wraps the living light within a tomb that sleeps for ages in the mind. People fear death but life is death. You wake up and you come alive when you die...or burrow deeper.

I think sometimes of the Mole People and how whenever the light troubles the darkness within they bury themselves. I think of awards ceremonies sometimes and how people are dressing for their funerals... “Now, for best actor in a mortal role the award goes to that guy whose name will soon be buried under the dead leaves of passing time.” There are other award ceremonies that take place here but the press doesn’t cover them any more than those same leaves do the recipients.

I think about the long black limousines and the thoughts passing through the minds of the attendees as they hear one version and remember another. I think about the movie within the movie as she walks these hills in a long black veil. I think about Paris Hilton going to sleep one night and waking up in Bangladesh and not understanding why no one knows who she is. I think about how difficult that life is going to be when she can’t convince anyone and all the retrospective Bollywood moments that follow.

I think about the strange and private rooms without doors where certain formerly powerful manipulators of dust and specific associates gather to do their version of “Waiting for Godot” while Virgil and Dante discuss the weather ...and as certain and fixed as these moments are, it is the greatest wonder that seldom a single occupant ever doubted the consequences of their actions. They knew and it didn’t matter.... or they didn’t know and it didn’t matter. All the mea culpas that never occurred or there would have been a lot more people writing “Amazing Grace”. How often do you hear;

“I broke the laws of God and Man and Nature. My life was a vain conceit in which I injured and offended everyone I met. I have dishonored myself, my family and everyone who might have loved me and I will spend every remaining moment seeking to undo the evil which I visited on life. I have no excuse”? You do not hear this.

This destiny which shapes our ends has a force like gravity that holds things in place and you can get a feel for the heart which asked that they be forgiven for they knew not what they did and continue, continue to do it.

“The moving finger, having writ moves on

And not all your piety nor wit

Can lure it back to cancel half a line

And not all your tears wash out a word of it.

And this inverted bowl we call the sky

Whereunder cramped and cooped we live and die

Lift not your hands to it for help for

It... as inadvertently move as you and I.”


The role within the role of the movie within the movie does not allow for meddling with the script.

What an awesome intensity it is to muster the will to be transformed; the strange chemistry of the leaven that somehow comes about in Bethlehem ...the seeming endless stretch of time and event that is required to make a stained glass window of the personality. The pressure of a forced diamond, the irritation in the oyster and the heavy, heavy weight of time... The harsh necessities of need in these disordered rooms composed of personal music... the dreaming body of the flesh that harnessed the imagination in pursuit of appetite. It’s all there to see.

Somewhere, someone is dancing and somewhere weeping is the song that generates the dance and where the dancer is not by mistake garlanded in skulls. It is as clear as clear can be. It is going on in every moment. It is the plot to every tale, the lyrics to every song, the story in every newspaper and the subject of every conversation no matter what words may lead away from the continuous spectacle that is every moment of every day as the limousines are polished and the dough is transported to the darkness in which it is meant to rise. It is going on right now everywhere and it can’t be seen in the plain sight where it hides. This powerful mystery is the permanent guest at the table where the skeletons dine.

Whether at Fort Sumter or Sarajevo it is never about what it is about. The rage and the murders are never about what they are about. Everything is something other than what it is ...so we need the wall... I want to build a wall. I would build it with my own hands

Too smooth to climb... ...Too high to throw over... ...Too strong to tear down... A wall that can be worn away only by Love ...Over a very long, long time ...A wall through Jerusalem ...Cutting off the east... And giving the rest to the Jews... But it will never be enough ...It never is ...They want it all ...And the Palestinians ...And the howling mob want it all ...And they want the Jews dispersed and dead ...As well ...In effect .../So we must have a wall ...Because Peace cannot come without Harmony ...And Harmony cannot come without Love ...And Love cannot come without self-forgetting ...And the Self that is not- cannot stop ...Reminding itself that it exists

Having it all is useless ...Without being able to share ...Like a child (and these are children) ...Alone in a room full of toys ...Home alone with the ball ..."Those whom the God's would destroy,..."

Physical Jerusalem ...is not Spiritual Jerusalem ...Herein lies the problem ...False advertising as slick ...as a bead of water on a perfect ass ...Not getting what you thought you got ...Will only make you mean ....A handful of dust ...A bad dream...

So we need a wall ...To divide a lie in half ...Let them build ovens in the wall

To bake their bread ...Since Bethlehem is the House of Bread...Or many niches to intern their dead ...Let them be separate and apart ...As they are already in their heart

We need a wall ...To be in the space ...Where the wall already is ..."Good fences make good neighbors" ...That is the sum of it

Every religion and faith ...That claims to be the one ...Is from that moment wrong

Because ONE is ALL ...There is nothing outside of ONE

ONE IS... all encompassing and..... ONE alone ...ONE is ONE ...Not two

In reality there is no me nor you ...No Arab, no Jew...These are just appearances

God inhabits no land in exclusion ...No synagogue ...No mosque

These are only projections of the vanity of man ...Anthropomorphic Disneyland

God did not give the Kabala ...For you to reverse it and enhance personal gain

The Koran is not a license ...To plunder and maim ...God is Love ...A spiral

Like the curl in a closed fist ...Unseen in the dust dervish ...That which is in a cloud

You cannot explain ...You cannot interpret

So we need a wall ...I will gladly abandon my dreams to build it ...Let it stand as a message to everyone ...Then call out to your God ...In the shadow of it ...Separate from yourself ...As you have always been ...Now you can pray and dance, scream and laugh and cry ...Or walk all the way around the Earth ...To the other side of it

Time enough to think

Let the wall stand as evidence ...That although we are ...We cannot be ...ONE

Let the wall stand as endless testimony ...That we have missed the point ...Let it stand

As the manifest symbol ...Of that barrier we cannot pass ...Let it stand as long

As the honeyed light pours from the Sun

Until the real Jerusalem shall rise

And then the wall is gone.

Visible sings: God in Country by Les Visible♫ No Tracks ♫
'No Tracks' is track no. 7 of 11 on Visible's 2001 album 'God in Country'
Lyrics (pops up)

God in Country by Les Visible

Thursday, January 24, 2008

The Colors and Variations of a Life

Sometimes the world fills our windshield and we forget what powers the car. It’s never a good thing for the driver because no matter what direction you head in it doesn’t lead anywhere. After awhile you might begin to believe this world is all there is. And there you will be until some fortuitous misfortune, trauma or act of grace knocks you down on the road to Damascus somewhere on the outskirts of Samarra. Well, you’re always on the outskirts of Samarra; on the Samarra beltway as I like to call it.

Speaking of skirts and suggesting slips and more undergarments, it’s an interesting feature that the clothing is a brilliant white until the form within it moves and all the colors of the rainbow are revealed. You have to attain to a much greater intimacy before you see that whiteness again. The last undergarment is darkness absolute. ...With me so far?

Life in search of itself is a condition that does not lend itself to words because in order to paint description you need colors. Right there... right there you are back on the beltway. How much intensity does it take to master the situation? The first intensity is to constantly remind the mind that it is speechless concerning the thing. But... but...

♫I wish that for just one time I could stand inside my shoes.♫

Giving life, living life, taking life... frolicking through the maze, devil may care for the length of a life and then suddenly waking up inside the self constructed consequences that follow life to life. And it all looks so solid and fixed and populated with the familiarities that you dreamed up according to where you were headed, are headed. People, languages, locations, relations, religions, governments; it all seems to be remarkably real. It was brilliantly and iridescently white and devoid of qualities just a short time ago and now it’s all colored and labeled and walking down the sidewalk or driving down the street.

Go here and type in PDF. Be sure and set “Results per page:” at 100 and “Maximum age of post:” at 200. Now you should have some thousands of pages of documents from just the last two hundred days that you can download and read; provided you have a Usenet account (I recommend Giganews) and a Newsreader. You can probably figure it out, it’s not rocket science and you can find out all you want to know about rocket science and practically ‘anything’ you can think of in this list. As you scroll from page to page I think you will be astounded and amazed at what is available for your attention. I think you will also realize it would take a few lifetimes just to get through what is on these pages of the last two hundred days, much less master more than a few.

That is just this one location and only for 200 days. It bears thinking about. When one has this in mind it is possible to approach awe in the proper manner. Then you might consider that this is just one planet; once incalculably, microscopic and insignificant planet in a vastness beyond measure.

So... given that, what do you think might be the most important thing to consider? What would be the most important question you could ask? Who am I?

Now... some people won’t even read what’s written here. Some people won’t click on the link. Some people won’t proceed on after the link appears. Some people won’t follow the rest of the suggestions and very few people will let page after page unfold. Almost no one will keep going past the pages of German texts that will appear now and again for as much as 20 pages. Though I am only at Day 42 right now I will certainly go through the whole thing... but that’s just me.

I want to know what’s there. It could be that something I’m really looking for will show up on Day 99. After all, I found Manly Palmer Hall’s “Secret Teachings of All Ages.” in “Fringe Research Resources” somewhere around Day 11. That would be Day 12 to you. I didn’t know that FRR was there and it was only by going on and on that I got there and what a wealth of metaphysical work is located in that newsgroup- a.b.paranormal

The Palmer Hall book costs several hundred dollars. I bought my original for 15 some years ago. Things change.

Am I going to find out who I am by doing this? That’s an interesting question. I can learn to build nearly every structure you can imagine from the woodworking plans I found here. I can understand most every science and technology from what I’ve seen so far. I’m hard pressed to think of what hasn’t been listed already.... All the medical books needed to be anything from a surgeon to a psychiatrist. It is remarkable what is there for the taking.

The real truth of the matter is even more surprising. Inside my own mind is a collection of information, knowledge and wisdom that dwarfs what I can find in this listing. Sciences unknown reside there. Understandings of the information contained in this listing is there and far more precise than what can be gained by reading all of these texts.

To access this internal information I also need a subscriber account and a reader. I need to be able to log in and I need to know how to log in. There’s a handy dandy help button too.

You can find things in this outer listing that will introduce you to certain techniques that lead to the gates of the inner listing. The people who wrote these things are guides but not all of them knew where they were going. You can also find all kinds of things that have no other applications than the world you see on the beltway. I don’t need to tell you that the beltway is a loop.

Well, there are guides on the inside too. Not all of them know where they’re going either and that’s where intensity and sincerity pay off. You don’t get serious help unless you are serious and there’s no concealing that. I’ll wager that if you do nothing more than ask, “Who am I?” and at all other times say, “I don’t know.” that you will achieve the right result sooner or later. Some of us don’t require as much pummeling as others. Eventually it becomes a massage.

Who will be fascinated enough to travel through the list? Who will take it as a cue to look for the treasure house within? Deep in the inner ocean, down in the depths lays many a sunken chest that can be opened to reveal curious things with powers unguessed at. To control the mind the way a diver does his breath is a most useful talent.

Waiting in the mind at all times is a guide who will know the moment you are willing to venture in. A great force of good will shall brim forth instantly at your call. Who am I? “Follow Me.” says the little voice “and be not afraid.”

Visible sings: Almost A Capella by Les Visible♫ I Am Alive ♫
'I Am Alive' is track no. 8 of 12 on Visible's 2007 album 'Almost A Capella'
Lyrics (pops up)

Almost A Capella by Les Visible

Friday, January 04, 2008

Don't Let your Lamp Grow Dim

I’ll open with an Irish blessing, left anonymously on one of my sites the other day.

“May God grant you many years to live
For sure He must be knowing
The earth has angels all too few
And Heaven's overflowing.”


For those of us caught unwilling in the flesh, life doesn’t have the same attractions that it has for everyone else. That isn’t to say we are immune or not attracted. It’s just that nothing lasts. It’s like the physical orgasm. People pursue this monkey bliss as if somehow it was going to go on a bit longer. It’s already galloping out of your bedroom and into the next apartment from the moment that it hits.

Every one of these little explosions of release drain your most secret bank account with the result that at some point, inevitably, you will be bent over; sucked in from the point where that energy resides and unable to ward off injury and disease. This is a scientific fact, far more definite than hair on one’s palms or fading eyesight... though it might impact on the later. It impacts on most things.

As much as I did descend into the maelstrom of sex for a time I did try to avoid the explosions. Given this sort of discipline it is surprising how you come to feel after awhile. An unfortunate by product is that it tends to keep the desire at a fever pitch. I find that certain drugs give much longer orgasms with much less debilitation and no need for a partner. Then there’s the mating up on higher planes, sans physical contact and sans drugs which can finally come to last forever. This is the bliss of captured starlight. This is what results in stars and what stars are. Explaining that to someone who just wants to push the buttons in the monkey’s cage over and over is not recommended.

It always reminds me of people feeding money into slot machines. I look at this madness and wonder why the reality of the constant flush of resources doesn’t dawn upon the mind of the mad. Well... they are mad, after all. This is seen as much more sane than believing in what cannot be seen or in practicing routines that depart from the usual routines of poisoning oneself with bad food, alcohol, callow entertainments and bobbing for turds in the vast hog lagoon of present day culture.

There are enduring truths that benefit the human condition. These truths are there to be had and are generally ignored. That’s the supreme irony of life. Nearly every priceless thing is free, or the cost- mere effort and yet... it’s all upside down for most people.

One of my continuing enjoyments are the occasional jeers I receive from those presently engaged in doing whatever they damn well please because they know better than you and only count someone an authority who’s got some kind of temporal degree or possesses an excess of money.

It makes me think of Rajneesh disciples and Crowley followers. Both of them got a license for license and they outnumber all of the rest in either of these fields of inquiry.

Rajneesh, despite filling his teachings with a lot of borrowing from Lao Tzu and sundry sources made it possible for his followers to have casual sex without guilt or disturbance of conscience. In it’s hey day you could go to any of the ashrams and see fifty gallon drums set aside for burning the used condoms. Money was good too, especially if you gave it to Roger Nietzsche. So today you find these people running businesses all over the planet and existing in a sub-culture of each other; those who know what’s up as opposed to everyone else. But mostly what you find when you go to their ‘in crowd’ websites is a lot of nasty gossip. Meanwhile they are flooding the guru market with all sorts of dubious representatives of a force they could not possibly comprehend because it doesn’t act that way except when it’s blocked.

With the Crowleyites you’ve got that, “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.” thing. This can be traced back to Hassan I’Sabbah (the old man of the mountains) who said, “Nothing is real, everything is permitted.” All of these sayings are true, just not the way they are applied. But they are true in the way they are applied in the way they are applied; complete with consequences.

Crowley made it possible for anyone to become an expert on nonsense in much the same way that Gurdjieff loosed all sorts of bullshit on the metaphysical community by playing head games with Ouspensky. You could be a Crowley guy and be all dark and mysterious, full of portentous things and beyond good and evil. All dealings I have had with a Crowley follower has resulted in my being ripped off.

But these two guys are hip and trendy and a lot more people are going to listen to them than to anyone bona fide because they don’t want bona fide because bona fide interferes with them doing things their way. It’s nice when you can find a teacher who says, “Do what you please, it’s all a game.” a joke or whatever variant they come up with. And it is a game and a joke and a dream; just not in the same way. It’s basically showbiz.

It’s like rap music. There is no redeeming artistic value to rap whatsoever. It sucks on every single level except as a backbeat for dancing around. You can dance to a chorus of jackhammers too as long as the beat is there. There’s nothing memorable or lasting about rap. It’s mostly about guns and murder and beating up women before, during or after you are having sex with them and then moving on to their younger sister before you put them both out on the street to earn some money. Yes... I have had one or two good things pointed out to me; made me feel like Lot well short of ten.

These rap artists are celebrated as big stars. They’re celebrated as if there were something there that isn’t there; just like with my other examples. What they are is junk food for the mind. They’re more pernicious than that. The message is that it’s okay to be a psychopathic slime and do whatever you want at everyone else’s expense while they applaud you for abusing them. They’re really just employees of the forces engaged in your enslavement. You become easier to enslave the more you push the monkey buttons and eat swill and present yourself as living proof of ‘garbage in and garbage out.’

It’s the nature of the world. It should come as no surprise that we have come to what we have.

The magic of the magic show is that people watching a trick come to believe it to be real. When you don’t have oil for your lamp it is very difficult to throw light upon the subject of your attention. It is as easy to get lost in the darkness of your mind as it is to get lost in the darkness of the world. Both conditions come about because of a lack of light. A lack of light comes about from a loss of fuel. This is the coin the world is really after, not the other... though it will take that too. This is the true nature of ‘vampire’.

It’s an impressive thing to see... thousands and thousands of aisles and tens of thousands of shelves in hundreds of cities... all filled with crap while the most valuable thing of all is cast aside on a daily basis; tossed into the streets, trampled on, spit on and generally ignored or made fun of... sometimes tortured and mutated but in any case... eventually abandoned and forgotten as if it never were.

Occasionally someone finds it and it puts them at odds with everything else. Then the trick is to pass through ‘Indian Country’ and you do that the same way some savvy souls in the old west achieved it by appearing mad. It doesn’t matter what the world thinks and if you’re after that kind of favor... good luck with the results.

Visible sings: The eponymous Les Visible Music Album♫ All The Things That I Wanted ♫
'All The Things That I Wanted' is track no. 7 of 10 on Visible's eponymous
'Les Visible' Music Album

Lyrics (pops up)

The eponymous Les Visible Music Album

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