Sunday, October 31, 2010

Halloween is a Many Fractured Thing

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

It’s Halloween but is it hallowing. Do we have hallowed halls? Is it hallowed or hollow and filled with hungry ghosts? Present day religions have been grafted upon the ones which preceded them and because we are in an age of darkness it is possible we have left our enlightenment behind.

I feel like the richest man in the world today. All of my life I was beset by seemingly insurmountable troubles with a few small windows of beautiful being and possibility. It is only in recent days that I have been granted a wider field and a deeper field of vision; inwardly and outwardly. I think of finding a place in the Andes. I often thought of Australia and then New Zealand. I dream about the Himalayas but so much, practically everything, is ruled by karma. So it is for me and you, most of the time, but the apocalypse is making things possible that were not possible before. We have such an opportunity now that I could not begin to imagine the possibility of the words needed to describe it.

We have created our virtual New Shangri-La but we don’t even interact there, most of us. I left it there for a year and came back and try to check in when I can. The membership is increasing at a rapid rate but not much interplay. It’s as if we are all ready, but waiting. My invisible friends have been an enormous help to me. If I were to give any real advice that I thought was useful I would say that it is good to have invisible friends. It’s good to have friends, period.

In the hallowed halls of Congress the only friends that you have are hungry ghosts and negatively charged electric eels that suit the waters and shock into submission anyone and everyone. Most of the people looking to hang out there aren’t very good swimmers anyway. They think they are but if they were good swimmers the things that happen in the country wouldn’t be happening.

Halloween is happening in Congress all year long. Maybe on Halloween it actually reverses itself. I’m thinking today will be an unusual day (lately they all are) but I must say it is unusually good for me.  Woodmen bring me buckets of fresh pressed cider to go with my Robert Gray Holistic Horizons colon cleanses. I didn’t link it because I don’t do advertising, or maybe I do but I’m not walking through the halls of congress. I used to dress like I usually do on Halloween.  People would ask me why I didn’t have a costume and I would just be dressed normal and I said that I am coming as a serial killer who looks like everyone else.

I don’t know if you should follow my lead but I prefer to be away from staged events of cartoonist’s and clown’s performances when I can have glistening leaves in the glooming of October night. Nature is my lover and I like to think about that when my friend and lover is not well then maybe it’s not time to pony up at the well of false beliefs. There’s never a good time for that. It’s just shades of gray.

There is so much beauty but still the sectarianism. The times that I used the name of Jesus Christ in one of my songs it had more to do with the way people use it as an expletive or a reaction where you might say the most common of four letter words. Two of them come to mind, take you pick because it is all a matter of degrees.

I have only been doing these blogs for six years and it started with this one. This was my intent. The other came in the hope of widening the circulation and leading people here. Now I find that this blog which was intended for the metaphysical exchange has about one tenth of smoking mirrors which came later and reflections in a Petri dish has flown past it also and came much later.

I look at the music and some of the musicians from the times of my youthful inspirations and the purposes to which it is turned and I understand why I haven’t recorded much in several years. I have five or six albums waiting to be recorded and I can’t seem to get around to it.

I have learned more in the last few years than in the rest of my life before when I was struggling with abusive fate and my own ignorance while my substance was being spent in the lower halls of torment pushing to provoke the genii to inspire me. I don’t know what name you call your angels or demons; djinns, rakshashas, angel, devils or those forces that are defined by their actions and which can be controlled or not controlled depending on who is in the position to do either.

Well, as I am writing this it looks like they are going to pin the blame for a new terror attack on the Kurds who are Zio-bots but what do I know? I probably don’t know much but since I am near where they all stash the money I don’t expect the followup to be around here.  The reason I am pretty sure of what I am saying is that msnbc and cnn have this headlined but there is nothing on Fox which is the Zio-orge as are they all more or less by degrees.

This is Visible Origami. I guess I want to say keep your powder dry, not so that you can blow things up but so that you can snort it. I’m a little perplexed and I am on my own except for my invisible friends. Maybe its The Matrix Brothers that no one has an angle on and who is coming through.  It is Halloween in America. Somehow it all comes around to some bad serpents though.

I am drinking fresh pressed apples of Gaul cider and doing my colon cleansing thing. I don’t know about tricked out stunts using talents for the devils tool. There must be a reason that people do what they do. They want to be spooky and scare and surprise and celebrate and get trucked out in fantastic costumes. When I was in Hawaii I used to hear about locals punching out people dressed up in Halloween costumes and you can’t defend yourself that way. I didn’t have a problem cause I came as myself because I don’t want to be somebody else, especially on that day.

I’m sorry if I have misled anyone. It’s a Strider kind of thing and that is how I do Halloween, looking out for those riders and whatever it is that Sauron dishes up. It’s a game or a movie call it what you like. There are labels and names and how are we supposed to communicate? They say that the devil is in the details. I suppose that is correct and every one of those details is everyone of you dressed up in fields and halls, whether hallowed or unhallowed that is just how it goes. It’s still going to get a lesson on itself and that is what the apocalypse is all about. I wonder if those Tibetan monks can see me. I can see them. When I was a baby I saw a row of them chanting on the rafters in my room in Kyoto. They were little tiny guys in brown or ocher robes. I still don’t understand most of these things and there is so much that I don’t know.  What I do know is that Halloween is an American thing and that might be why they have their elections right afterwards. They don’t have Halloween over here, they have Fasching. There are other things in other countries and that is what gets used to trick us and we celebrate it.

I don’t know what I’m doing here (grin). Looking at the moon which I know is something else and people who celebrate Halloween by making themselves vulnerable to things that already are not what they seem to be. I guess I’ll go on doing this for as long as I do and I hope that it all goes well with you. I’m glad I have the opportunity to get my mind right while I’m “still shakin it here Boss”.

We are here now and we’ll see what we see or think we see and be handled accordingly because it is in an apocalypse that the masks come off and then we will see what we shall see and like it or not. I’ll be talking to you later on this evening. I hope you have some fresh pressed apple cider for yourself and some kind of internal cleansing going on because that’s going to be an important feature right around now.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: The Sacred and The Profane by Les Visible♫ Graveyards of the Heart ♫
'Graveyards of the Heart' is track no. 3 of 13 on Visible's 2007 album
'The Sacred and The Profane'

Lyrics (pops up)

The Sacred and The Profane by Les Visible

There will be a radio show tonight at 7:30PM Central Time or you can download it the next day.

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Monday, October 18, 2010

The Wobble Factor in the Inferior Realms

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

I’d like to talk about something today that has plagued me throughout my life and which, I suspect, has been a concern for a great many of you as well; consistency. I’m the kind of guy who is capable of intense focus for periods of time but who can go off the rails now and again because of misleading signals concerning the destination or object of endeavor.

Sometimes I’ve maintained consistency for a period of years, only to find that some unfortunate event or some inexplicable pressure has tossed me into the soup; not the sort of soup you’d be inclined to serve your guests unless you didn’t want them staying around afterwards.

A few weeks ago I had a series of events that catapulted me beyond anywhere I’d been before and stripped away a parasite darkness that had attached itself to me at some point in the past. It might not even have been in this lifetime. The removal of this entity granted me a clarity I hadn’t been able to lock on to with any ‘consistency’ for quite some time. I made a decision at that point to do away with some number of things that I had previously allowed into my life. All of these things seemed to be a fair tradeoff in the face of relentless pressures, which would increase to a near unbearable state every time I decided to make deeper changes in myself.

You could think of these tradeoffs as release valves that bled away the pressure but still allowed me to limp along in the direction I was headed. I knew I would succeed, maybe not at the speed I was capable of, but sooner or later and without spectacular highway incidents that tended to occur when I got that ‘all or nothing at all’ thing into my heart and my head.

So... there I was in this state of clarity and I said to myself that I just didn’t want any more escape valves but that I would allow myself whatever I thought I needed if it were something I could command and direct in the direction I was going. That’s been consistent since the event. What have also been consistent are the reactions of the external world, both internally and externally, at this outrage of non-conformity on my part. I decided it just wasn’t in my interest or consistent with my true nature to ‘go along to get along’ any longer. It had always been some kind of misty concept in my imagined future that I would walk away from the familiar into the unknown,  in as real a sense as it gets. I’d been doing this more or less through my life but always retaining a foothold in the shit loop of the manifest.

I realize now that every life on this planet is justified or compromised by its degree of consistency. Time is engaged dependent on the degree of consistency. At the basest level are the lives that are purely automatic and elevated only by the force of evolution. At the most rarified level is the most assisted evolution, free of any and all attachment to the surroundings through which it passes.

I was talking with Guru Bawa once and expressing the desire to achieve at the most rapid rate. He told me not to polish the pot so hard that I break it. I got the point. There’s also the danger of extreme self-righteousness and sanctimony where there isn’t enough virtue to sustain an extraordinary state. It seemed sensible to me not to press too hard because I was already moving with speed through relationships and environments so that there was no life except for constant motion in the direction of what lay beyond.

There is a point to the triumph of trivia in the world of the present. There is a motive to the dominance of the superficial over the profound. It has to do with dispersing the ability to concentrate. Along with the will, concentration is one of the keys to the magical art of transformation by self-realization. When the forces of darkness are employing their wiles upon the common mind, it is a necessary element to destroy the capacity for adequate defense in those being preyed upon. Due to the psychopaths engaged in control of the entertainment and media industries, all focus is upon the lower chakras in order to bleed the strength of the people into cisterns that empty into Hell. These fluids and excrescences are turned upon those providing them to the tune of their enslavement.

Take a look at the content and character of any film or TV series. Counterpoint it with the basic attraction utilized in every commercial from the side of a bus to halftime at the Super Bowl. It’s all about sex and the promise of your receipt of it, which results in you being bent over a rail for perpetuity. The promise of being in charge of all available pleasure, results in you becoming the plaything of demons. One’s objective reasoning and higher facilities of reason and intuition are blinded by the smoke of desires focused upon sounds and images constructed by those who intend to enslave you.

One can pass harmoniously through this, if one has the consistency to be unwavering in the passage. Few possess this capacity. One can pass with a great deal of conflict with everything one encounters and eventually win through by the force of assisted will. One can just walk away from it entirely, keeping in mind that you carry some portion of it with you wherever you go. Not even a cave in the Himalayas is safe, if the internal mechanism has not been stilled to the point that the voice of the silence can be heard.

There’s no flexibility in me now, concerning my turning to the rest stops and off ramps of possibility, on this highway out of the shadowland. This has provoked a relentless response on the part of many things external, whether they are conscious of it or not. The saving grace for me is that I’m not fighting with it. It’s just going to happen until the lack of attention to the temporary relief mechanisms causes it to starve to death. There seems to be no other way around it except through it. The inspiration for continuance is fed by the reduced capacity and strength of the force opposing liberation.

One should keep in mind that if one can imagine the victory, it is possible. However the conditions may be at the inception, they can only improve from that moment, because the opposition can never be stronger than it is at that time. Appearances may tell a different tale but appearances are a lie; not only because they are a temporary concealment of the eternal upon which they rest and flower but because our perception of their meaning is subjective. This is the key reason to not knowing. This is the freedom road out of the bondage of false knowledge; I don’t know.

My favorite phrase from the Bhagavad-Gita is, “success is speedy for the energetic”. I’ve seen the truth of that recently in a way that impressively blew my mind. I now believe that it is possible to achieve as much in a single day as one might achieve in any number of lifetimes. One has to come to an understanding of the meaning of this, on ones own terms, in ones own mind and being. The force which accomplishes liberation is not our own, though the two are engaged with each other. The Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus talks about ‘the operation of the sun’. The principal point of it all is that it is an operation preformed by the sun which you ‘allow’ to take place.

You can think of a guardian angel who stands behind and above you and who tempers and adjusts everything to the degree that you permit it. The general reaction of most everyone is to resist because the perception is that it is inimical rather than friendly; that is opposes what we think we desire, instead of being directed toward what we truly desire. The truth concerning what we think we desire can be read in the tears and sorrow of the lives that surround us and which go on in a state of endless wanting, counterpointed by regret.

Krishna stands behind Arjuna, the same way as the angel I mentioned. Every single moment of our lives and every event, no matter how insignificant it may seem, has a special connection to our relationship with the divine. Nothing else is taking place except this, although we see it differently than it is, which accounts for the extent and duration of our suffering, which can be transformed at any time, once we ‘allow’ it to take place. The whole experience can be conducted in Nature apart from the artificial constructs of the world of time. It can also take place within our own nature in the midst of the constructs.

In times of darkness... and this surely qualifies as one, devotion, or the path of Bhakti is the only sure and certain way. Everything else ties you up in the machinations of the monkey mind. I’m done with my own efforts. They have failed me. The only effort worthy of us is the effort to permit the presence of the divine, which should involve no effort at all. There is a jewel concealed within the darkness of this mystery that will reward an earnest search. I hope this proves useful and an inspiration toward consistency.

End Transmission.......

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

Last night’s radio show is now available for download.

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Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Suspended Waterfalls and Constipated Clouds,

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

I went out to start my car this morning, so that I could get it over to the mechanic, in order for all of the things that have to happen to happen. The battery was dead. It’s been sitting for more than two months (I should have detached the cables but I didn’t). I connected it to the Touran to recharge it. After twenty minutes, I went out to start it and got no sound whatsoever; nothing. It’s a new battery from spring. This didn’t make much sense to me, so it’s in the hands of the mechanic, whenever he gets here.

I owe a reader the four CD set of my early musical works which are probably best described as a combination of Frank Zappa and Warren Zevon by way of Bill Hicks. They’ve been on my computer for as long as I’ve had one but they’re not there now. My copies of them are all in Italy. I’m already a month late on sending the CDs out.

Something important that I was hoping to get yesterday has gone into hiding on two fronts. If I were the kind of person to succumb to frustration and annoyance it would have happened by now because these examples are only a few of what’s been going on.

I’m heading south shortly, or intend to and all of my former plans for the location are back on the drawing board but I won’t be going anywhere without something to go there in. There was over a month of uncertainty leading up to the recent freedom to relocate to la bella Italia. I’d be there now if not for that …but one thing follows another, except in my case where one doesn’t follow another unless it’s not related to it.

I keep getting things like this in the mail. My house in Italy isn’t anything like this but we’ve wound up paying more for it than this, even if there is more land and olive trees. It happened because I’d come to believe that Germans are the most honest people I’ve met, until I met an unscrupulous con artist named Christophe Emschermann, who finessed us like the rubes we turned out to be.

I published my first novel through a Crowleyite publisher named Moog Morgan who owns Mandrake of Oxford Press and who spelled the title of the book on the spine, the cover and every page of the book three different ways AND left out the final edit. It took a year to get that fixed with this guy treating me like shit every step of the way. He tells me he owes me no money because he only sold so many books. I find many more used copies for sale on the internet than he says he sold.

I signed with CBS/Sony through Bernard Stollman of ESP Disk and he let his wife ignore the DAT masters and copy the material from a warped old cassette and then process it in such a way that the majority is incomprehensible and then released it into every Tower Records outlet around the world where it sank like a stone. My contract with them expired a long time ago but Bernard continues to offer my work for sale on his ESP Disk website. I complain for him to remove it and he might do so for a week but then puts it back up again. I’ve heard from the heirs to a lot of black jazz artists from the sixties and before that talk about how Bernard has stolen so much of whatever there was to take from the income generated by the sale of these icons.

I’ve got other stories like this that lay like broken paving stones, to demarcate the upward surge of my illustrious career. It’s been one long passageway to humiliating failure without cease and I guess I should be proud of that. I’ve got stories that run the gamut from the Grand Guignol to the merely tragi-comic. I can’t remember them all but I’ve sat back a time or two in contemplation of the chronic ironic and surprised myself at the things I have forgotten.

Then there are the ordinary, inexplicable, every day things such as I have already mentioned. These are counterpointed by the predictions of various astrologers who wanted to do my chart or wound up doing my chart, which talk about an abondanza of ships, coming into port, laden with blessings for me that are too numerous to count. One of them shows up every few months to tell me something but then disappears again before telling me anything and I shake my head and grin as I gaze off into the invisible with a look of profound understanding in my eyes that signifies nothing.

I live in a world where this sort of thing is debated in this kind of a manner. That is to say that it defies everything true about the subject that thousands of years of tradition in pristine systems states to be otherwise. I live in a world where things that would embarrass me, more than the worst moments in my life ever have, are heralded as great works of art and a prevailing measurement of the greatness of our culture. I live in a world where the worst motivations and appetites from the darkest moments of former times are bundled together like bad software in the hearts and minds of our leaders in every theater of operation.

I’m not complaining. I have no reason to complain. I found the only thing worth finding and it’s integrated with my life in a way that answers every important prayer and fulfills every real need that might ever arise. This is a true and sincere statement and it makes my tedious progress through a world of absurdity and obstruction a laughable affair. It’s the reason I’m writing this today.

We need to remember, when opposition is as great as what I have only superficially outlined today, we must be doing something useful, because everything else is not only useless but malefic or else… you’re cruising on the Titanic and the iceberg is still enroute. We need to remember that periods of unexplainable opposition are an indication that something extremely promising waits just beyond the trial period of our testing. If we fall victim to the pressures of the moment, we wind up back in the Greyhound bus station waiting area and the promise of another long and uncomfortable ride.

I remember being enraged at the unfairness of my life and the many times that a rock and a hard place faced an unyielding wall. I remember the alternative choices that weren’t acceptable alternatives. Only the wild unknown, of burning bridges into one more ‘make it up as you go’, seemed acceptable but I will never know now. The ‘might have gone that way’ highways disappear once another choice is made. We can look back with regret on what never happened but that’s about as useful as succeeding in the world of the moment, which is not going to be with us for that much longer.

I’m writing this because I suspect I am not alone in this regard. For most of us it is just a matter of degree. The pressure is all about our being forced into compliance with the thing opposing us. This pressure is universal in its intent to compel us into the seeming safe but suffocating blanket of the familiar; the treadmill, whetstone, grinding wheels of what wears away everything valuable that we possess.

Conversely, there waits the ever present unknown, brimming with possibility and uncertainty. There lies mystery and the suggestion of all the dangers that come with risk, in the face of what we know nothing about. We’ve never learned anything important without some travel in those zones. We’re prohibited by our survival mechanisms from chancing the opportunities that grow our faith, which is the universal passport in the wilderness of our hidden self and what lies behind the appearances of the world.

I never had a choice about this. I guess I will have it say it was my destiny. The result has been that I have discovered the unknown to be far safer than the known, that all of us assume we are informed about and have done no more than misidentify. We are in the unknown no matter where we think we are and that is a key piece of information that seems to elude nearly all of us.

I’ve found my invisible friends to be far more reliable and helpful than any of the friends I could see. I’ve found the unknown kingdoms of our being to be safer and more predictable than anything out here. No one can ever effectively communicate the truth of this to another. It remains for each of us to discover whether it is true or not.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: The Tangled Woods by Les Visible♫ The Tangled Woods ♫

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