Be and Become what you Aspire To

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

“May your nose be in the fifth density when your body enters the fourth”.

I’ve been thinking about a few things over recent times. They have to do with the unique mathematics of The Mayans, aboriginal dreamtime, transmissions from star clusters, contemporary ayahuasca and Native American rituals. Despite occasional criticisms from those who have never taken accelerated inward journeys, I am convinced of the validity of such forays. I’ve mentioned, more times than I can recall, that in former times; in earlier times, it’s possible that such additives may not have been necessary. Then again, these experiences are a part of human history as far back as we have presently been recording, altering and fabricating it, in the interest of bankers and the Khazar psychopaths, who have profited from the distortions and... profited handsomely in the only coin they value. Their time is coming to an end.

It stands to reason that people have made internal quests with the assistance of the plant kingdom for this length of time because this length of time has all been Kali Yuga and is the warmest and dampest darkness, in which vile bacteria, masquerading as human, has breed and plundered at will.

I’m not going to talk about available comestibles and the employment of them. I don’t do that except in rare anecdotal moments, where I am providing some back story to things that I go through. What people may choose to engage in on their journey is not my affair. My affair and concern is the goal itself and certain mindsets that I believe also accelerate and validate ones progress and successes. That’s what I’m going to talk about today. I’m going to talk about the single most important practice and perspective that one can possess, in my opinion. This is inspired by my work on “Spiritual Survival in a Temporal World”, which I am finalizing at this time and which I have been writing about at the book’s end.

I get a lot of emails, of all kinds. One type of email that I get has to do with the slow progress and elements of confusion, desperation and despair that enters into the hearts and minds of the seekers in this time. The main problem that I notice, and the cause of the states of being just mentioned, appears to be due to reaching; trying to get somewhere so that something will finally exist or happen. It’s a Sisyphean endeavor. It’s one of the primary deceptions of the separated mind. It’s the idea that there is somewhere you have to arrive at when you are already there. It’s the recognition factor that’s missing. It’s the surrender and utter reliance factor that’s not being employed. Instead we have more of the ‘driven mechanics’ that I have spoken about and mentioned witnessing, as I travel through the illusionary world of desire fueled appearances.

This being and thing we call the divine, or refer to by any number of names, sexes and indefinable singularities, is a part of us. It’s not out there somewhere, apart from us in some kind of a distant heaven. It’s not separate from us. It’s not something other than us. It composes and animates everything and is (contradiction alert) also apart from us in a certain sense. Its power and presence make up everything and there is never a time in the cosmic order when there is more power manifest than there is in reserve. This is always the case. The material sun is the source of all physical life on Earth and symbolizes the internal spiritual sun that is the true source of everything, including the manifest sun, which obtains all its power and virtue from it. Those who have worshipped the material sun over the centuries are also afflicted with that same sense of separation, confusion, desperation and despair that I’ve alluded to. The true sun is within and that is the being we need to come into the presence of. We are already in that presence but our awareness of this is not activated. It’s the awareness of the indwelling that has to be ignited, as if it were a candle, or something lit that grants illumination in the darkness of the mind.

You become what you identify with. The key to unity is merging. If the mind defines itself as separated from something then the perception is of distance and separation. One would be greatly informed by reading the works of yogis and mystics, concerning their relationship to the divine. So long as you see yourself at a distance from the thing you seek then you are at a distance, at least in the way you understand it.

The idea is to go about all of your actions as if it were the divine who was engaged in them. When you eat, you eat as if it were the divine who was engaged in it. When you commit any action you carry it out as if the divine were doing it. The divine actually does everything since there is no power to act outside of the divine. Whatever you interact with, you interact with it as if it were the divine. You encapsulate the whole of your existence as if it were an interplay with and as the divine. This is how you overcome the sense of separation. You recognize that there is none.

If you are reading these words from outside that construct then the sensation is that their meaning is something apart from you. If the mind insists on continuing that perception then it will continue. We can only experience fully that which we fully embrace. Success (as stated in the Bhagavad-Gita) comes quickly for the energetic. This does not mean only operating at extreme capacity for union. It also means consistency and determination of purpose. Extreme capacity can only be maintained with consistency and determination.

As has been stated at other times, it may take trauma to bring us to a place of acceptance and understanding. Sometimes this is accomplished by weltzschmerz, or a loss of interest in all of the promises and attractions of the world. Sometimes it is accomplished by the growth of divine love, which possesses all of the attributes of the exercise within it. Sometimes it is accomplished through selfless service. There are a number of ways to come into the fullness of what is being discussed here. You have to find one of them. You have to go about your days as if you were already a resident of Heaven and already in possession of the company and qualities of the divine. Sooner or later it will become true in fact.

There is no other effort worthy of our time and interest. Everything else is a waste of time and we discover the truth of that sooner or later. There is a hunger within that can only be satisfied by the presence of the divine. It will trouble us until we have attained to it. People may deny the existence of this presence and they may war against the recognition of it but that is about as effective as shooting arrows at the sun. May you arrive sooner than later and awaken by the streamside at Cold Mountain and be warmed by the internal sun.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: ♫ Everlasting Love ♫
'Everlasting Love' is track no. 2 of 10 on Visible's 2006 album 'Songwriter'
Lyrics (pops up)

Am I from Outer Space?

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

‘May your noses always be accompanied by a genuine smile beneath it’.

My dear friend and wonderful supporter, Ghana, asked me yesterday if maybe I was from another planet or had ever been taken up by aliens to another saucer pod in the sky. I thought I might address that on a certain level today. All of what I am going to say is true or something I convincingly believe. In some cases there were witnesses so... either we were all deluded or it happened. I suggest the latter.

I have an old friend named Douglas Hume. I met him when I was 21 years old. I was already friends with Bill Rodenberg, not a member of The Tribe (not that that matters for I do have such friends- grin). I had met Bill when I was 19 and he 16 and he has been my best friend, along with Bud (The Birdman) Clifton for the sum of my life so far. When I was in my early 30’s, Douglas called me up in Palm Springs one day and asked me if I wanted to go to Mexico with him. At the time I had recently discovered avocados and was really, really into them. A couple of years earlier, I was with a girlfriend, Judy, and we drove across the country to Santa Barbara to see some of her friends. This trip was noteworthy for two reasons, one of them has to do with avocadoes and the other had to do with an important appendage of mine.

I was in the bed of a camper shell with my girlfriend, receiving a certain generous service while going through The Rockies in Colorado, when a deer leaped in front of the truck and the driver hit it full on. It was a very big deer. Suffice to say that angels were looking over me that day, as a second ago I was in one location and the very next second as the deer hit the truck (or was it the other way around?), my girlfriend stopped what she was doing to ask me a question. I cannot remember what that was about (grin). We came to a very quick halt and were tossed like rag dolls. When that had passed we both started laughing simultaneously as we realized what might have been. That reminds me of another story and I hope I can still get back to what I am going to talk about.

Some years earlier, I was with another girlfriend named Joy. She was the daughter of a very wealthy man who owned the biggest music store in Bethesda MD. As a result of our relationship I had been hanging out with a lot of tony kids who went to private schools and lived the high life. Bill was also similar in background. His father had been one of the more powerful lawyers in D.C. Gore the elder, also a senator, lived next door. Anyway, I was on acid in the back of a Volkswagen bus, being driven back into D.C. with two guys who were quite drunk and had just passed me a Mason jar with rum and fruit juice in it. I was holding it in my hand when it dawned on me that we were going to have an accident. I just knew it. The guys weren’t driving badly and what happened was not their fault.

I turned to Joy and said, “we’re going to have a wreck but don’t worry, we’ll be okay”. She looked at me with a certain amount of alarm and said, “What”? At that very moment a little red sports car swept in front of us, while the car ahead of it hit the brakes for some reason. There was nowhere to go and no time to stop, so the driver hit his brakes and swerved toward the grass median. There were two lanes of traffic on the other side and it was fairly busy. We hit the curb and the van flipped. I put my arms around Joy and pulled her into me. The van rolled twice and landed on the roof and slid across the road and I saw, coming toward us and very close, a tractor trailer. I do believe it was a Peterbilt. In one of those incredible slow motion scenarios, where time stops and you are aware of everything, we slid just past the truck and into a gas station, where we hit the phone booth and took it out. There was Mason jar glass all over the inside of the van.

Joy and I didn’t have a mark on us and the guys in front were cuts and scratches of a minor degree. Joy was speechless and kept saying, “How did you know”? Well, the police came and Joy’s father came and he did not like me one bit. We went back to her house, where she kept saying, “He saved my life Dad”. This was probably not technically correct. Her father said, “He should have let you die”. He was a member of The Tribe, not that that makes any difference. He dropped me at a bus station once we’d had a little to eat, courtesy of Joy’s mother. Okay, enough of that. I’ve had a number of experiences like this, where nothing ever happened but some serious close calls.

So anyway, I had been in Santa Barbara for a couple of months. My girlfriend was the ex-wife of Manny Roth who owned The Café Wha and several other places in Greenwich Village. Dylan, Jimmie James and the Blue Flames (later to be known as Jimmie Hendrix) all played there. About half a mile from where we were living was the Calavo processing plant and every Friday they would put all the avocadoes that were two ripe to ship into dumpsters in the back of the plant. This amounted to hundreds of pounds usually. Every Friday, I would head over there with my Air Force duffel bag and then truck back on foot with 50 to 75 pounds of nicely ripened avocadoes. I would already have tomatoes, onions, garlic, Shoyu, lemons and spices. Then I would pull out this very large glass chafing dish and make up huge amounts of guacamole, which everyone would eat and that is about all I ate most of the time, so, when Douglas asked me if I wanted to go to Mexico and eat cheap avocadoes, naturally I said, “Yes”. We spent two or so months down there, taking trains all over and to Quintana Roo province in the Yucatan, Puerto Juarez, Isla Mujeres and like that. What we didn’t find were any cheap avocadoes. Generally they were consistently more than in the US; probably because we were gringos.

Anyway, once over the border outside of Ciudad Juarez, we got into an argument on the highway and split up. Douglas walked on ahead and very promptly got a ride in a Corvette all the way to Palm Springs. It took me 3 days to hitch it... heh heh. I’m guessing the argument must have been my fault. So Douglas is at my friend Richard Yerxa’s house, waiting for me. Richard owned Bookland, which, at the time, was the most successful bookstore of its size in the US. I got in during the early evening and Douglas and I took some acid and so did Richard. We didn’t want to hang out with Richard after a point, so we set off around town and first wound up in Tamarisk Park, where they used to film the music show, Groovy. We walked into the park and then, in some trees which were not far away, there came a terrifying sound, which was like some gigantic octopus banging trash can lids together. My first thought was, ‘we’re screwed’. Whatever this thing was, it was big and scary and malefic. You could feel that. Douglas said to me, “just turn around and walk away”. I didn’t think that was going to do any good but I did and... we walked out of the park and headed back toward the house. We wound up in the desert a half a kilometer into it and came upon a flying saucer. It was an inter-dimensional craft and it was holographic. It had windows all around the upper part and the door opened and these holographic beings came out.

They were about two feet tall and orange or pink and they were translucent. They started talking in this high pitched cadence of frequencies and I could understand them. I said, “Douglas, they want us to go with them”. Douglas replied, “Just turn around and walk away”. So I did, because of what had happened earlier. I still regret that. We walked by a church and were about to go in, we needed something like that, when a police cruiser pulled up with a young cop in it. He wanted to know what we were doing and I mentioned that he might be concerned that we meant mischief. He said that sometimes people do. While talking to him, because of the state of our consciousness, he turned into a little boy and then just went away. We went into the church and sat down and Douglas turned into a monk from several hundred years ago and a most surprising conversation took place.

Finally we got back to the house and a tense hour of so around Richard who was kind of demonic, which he can sometimes be but most of the time not. The next morning when Douglas and I walked out of the door there was a dead, white dove right on the doorstep. We looked at each other and one of us said, “I think it’s time for us to go” and we did.

Douglas is the younger brother of Brit Hume, the major Fox News commentator. Douglas is one of the most honest men I know and has a real reservoir of integrity. Should you ever cross his path in Markham, Virginia, where he lives, he will verify all of this tale and many others. I had several more flying saucer experiences and, except for one instance, there was always someone else around. Once I was dancing in the lobby of a Boston theater where Hot Tuna was playing and a voice boomed out into the room, “We are aware of you”. That was something else and I’ve heard things out of nowhere on a number of occasions. I have never been in a flying saucer but I have been told I will and I sometimes refer to myself as, Starfleet Commander Visible. Some people actually call me that (grin).

I don’t know what to make of my occasional extra-terrestrial experiences but there you have it. My kundalini awakening was no small thing. The effects lasted for almost 3 years at a very intense level. I think this experience is the cause of the things that happen to me. Most of the time, I was in a state of dynamic tension, so I became very strong and stayed that way for a time. I never wore a coat in the winter, just blue jeans, a denim shirt and a blue velvet vest and I was never cold. To catalogue the things that happened to me during that time and... more occasionally ever since, would take a couple of books. I’ve met people who were not from this planet in any way we would define it and I’ve never understood or gotten any explanation for any of it. Richard’s still around Palm Springs or Northern California, around Marin County. If you run into him he can tell you some tales. I haven’t seen him in years. I hope this clears it up for you Ghana, but I doubt it (grin). Now, what’s next?


End Transmission.......

This lead cut from my first album was introduced into evidence when I was on trial in Maui, HI., facing a mandatory 60 years in prison.Visible and The Critical List: ♫ Jews From Outer Space ♫


When the DA couldn’t get the response he was looking for from Diane Mercer (a Miss Maui runner-up and pretty connected in certain ways), the DA then asked her, “Well, what about this “Herpes of the Mind”?

It was at that moment that I knew I had won the case, even though no had ever won a case like this in the history of that state, under the conditions I won it under, or any other conditions. The jury erupted into laughter and that went on for several minutes. Occasionally through that day, a juror would just start laughing. You should have seen the DA’s face. I think he knew too.

Sorry that I didn’t get the radio show done for last night. The concert was so fantastic that when I got home the show was due to come on in 15 minutes. I will get that show done in the next day or two and put it up for download. I don’t know what to think of these radio shows. People seem to like them from what I hear but it has very few followers on its blog and I never get more than a few comments, sometimes none. Yet, from the downloads and from what the producer tells me there are thousands of people that hear it. It’s a mystery.

Fire and Rain and a Little Insane

As I have mentioned, July was supposed to be and proved to be a hard month for me, going back to parts of June when things happened that I never would have expected and now serve to have a profound effect on my projects, delaying the publication of my books and setting my teeth on edge (grin), concerning human relationships and my understanding of them. I won’t get into names or certain details because that serves no good purpose but I will do as I usually do and employ allegory and other literary devices.

---

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

‘May your noses speak to you before you open your mouth’.

Over the years I have been engaged in many collaborative projects and I have come to see through direct experience how difficult it can be to make things happen in a group setting when one insists on being hands on. The result of this has been for me to be hands off, most of the time.

My initial position, when I have the authority to do so is to let everyone else operate from their agendas and intentions and then see what happens. I do this because I want to see what’s going to materialize in advance of wider and more dramatic efforts further down the road. I generally work alone for good reason because I can depend on myself to bring a ship into harbor without sabotage of either an intended or unintended kind. This means that some of my projects will not be as good or professional as they would be with the help of others, who are gifted in areas where I am not; my music recordings are a good example of this. I don’t have an engineer, arranger, a band or collaborator. There’s just me, hacking my way through the underbrush and not being any kind of a qualified landscaper or horticulturalist.

With my written work there’s less concern, since I’ve got a better feel for what I’m doing and a higher level of expertise, concerning construction and structure. Of course, I’m still limited in various ways, having left school in the tenth grade and being self taught the rest of the way. There’s no question that I would profit from the efforts of professionals as I go along but they’ve been slim and none for most of the way.

In the 90’s the owner of ESP Disk signed me with Sony/CBS in conjunction with a German distribution firm and destroyed the recordings my band and I had made, leaving me to sink like a stone when I was in every Tower Records outlet on the planet. In the early 2000’s Mandrake of Oxford published my first novel and left out the final edit, while misspelling the title of the book in 3 different places, on the cover and inside the book. It was a real disappointment for me to see, “The Dark Spendor on the spine of the book” when the title word was ‘splendor’. I was starting to think like that blues singer, “If it weren’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have no luck at all”.

I’ve got a lot of stories like this but I’ll spare you the bloodstains and autopsy photos. What amazes me is that I kept on going. All the jobs I took were simply to finance my creative efforts and that meant doing everything on the cheap and distributing my work for chump change or giving it away for free. Finally, I decided I wouldn’t do anything for money anymore and rely on the kindness of the universe to see that I got some amount of donations, without ever actually asking for any. I think the result of this has been to convince people that I am independently wealthy, instead of being as poor as a church mouse (grin).

I’ve always had a certain assurance and faith that the cosmos was taking care of me and would take care of me. The more I tossed any anxiety and concern into the wind, the more the cosmos worked on my behalf and I learned the meaning of the secret oasis of sustenance in the deserts of existence and the hidden places of Nature. However, it’s one thing for me to be convinced and another for others to share my belief and that has created problems in my passage as well. I’m not lazy and I try to make myself useful every day but Saturn is a hard taskmaster and he is prominent in my horoscope (which is a good thing really). You have to add in that I am an eclectic and eccentric character and likely to be disturbing and sometimes frightening to those who don’t get where I’m coming from or where I may be at in an particular moment. I take risks and have adventures that seem to put my life and my health in danger and it’s not easy to explain the reasoning for this to others. It’s not easy to get people to understand that I am acting on faith to push the dimensions of limitation just as far as I possibly can. Meanwhile, I’m in great shape and getting better by the day. The proof is in the pudding.

In a few days, I am supposed to be smooth sailing for some time to come and it is going to improve and improve and improve. Every source I have gotten input from says so and my invisible friends corroborate this. It appears that the more the forces and conditions of the world go into turmoil and confusion, the more my fortunes will improve; odd that.

People who expect quick returns would be better off playing the stock market than playing with me. I’m not a short term investment but productive over the long range and I suspect, profitable as well. These things take a finer and deeper faith in the long run and anyone lacking that should seek their profits at the racetrack or get into hedge funds.

I’m going to go back to limping along, as I have done so far, with the assistance and support of those still willing to be so engaged. I’ve got more material than I can even remember possessing and more is added by the day so, sooner or later the result of a lifetime of effort will see the light. This is true of all of us, we get out of life what we have put into it and have only ourselves to blame if we have been insufficient or displayed bad judgment.

I don’t do mass advertising and I don’t have deep pockets investors. I don’t glad-hand or engage with dubious sorts for the furtherance of my career. I don’t rely on schmoozing and uptown cocktail parties so I don’t owe any of those people anything and I don’t have to soften or compromise what I say in order to be a part of that world where elegant lies take precedence over obvious truth, in the small degree that I possess any. If what has been promised in the near time fails to materialize as quickly as it formerly seemed that it would, I rely on the divine to grant me the angels I need. I intend to rely on the divine for everything to the extent that I can do so and let the chips fall where they may. This may seem to be the harder and less predictable road to those who place their faith in how they work the marketplace but I know what kind of monkey business can come out of that and the only monkey I have any interest in is Hanuman.

Once again, I’ve been talking all around something for the purposes of discretion and propriety and that’s a good thing because there’s no telling what epiphanies and realizations may yet manifest out of what now appears to be a frozen engine. The divine works in mysterious ways and that means we often don’t understand what’s going on. My belief is that we will understand what we need to and be left out of the loop about what doesn’t concern us because it’s being accomplished by some other part of the spectrum.

I fully expect many things to be accomplished and realized soon enough and I’m content with leaving that in more capable hands, recognizing that everything is a test and sometimes we pass these tests when we don’t contend with the more intelligent and powerful forces in operation. It is one of the most difficult challenges for everyone to know when to let things take their course. We are not the helmsman, no matter what we think, nor do we know the extent of possible misfortune when we attempt to be the helmsman. I’m not going to concern myself with the operation of the Crockpot because a Crockpot takes care of it all internally and doesn’t require stirring and micromanagement. Once the top goes on it does what it was constructed to do. I’ve said all I have to say on the matter and now it’s time to post this and move on to the next thing, unless I decide to go and get a cup of tea in the interim.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: ♫ Love is Bound ♫
'Love is Bound' is track no. 12 of 12 on Visible's 2007 album 'Almost A Capella'
Lyrics (pops up)

Sunglasses of Serendipity.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

‘May your noses always be cold and wet’.

It’s not the best thing to wake up and be already tired. If you are tired then you might want to look out for the horse manure when you tip toe through the tulips; if you are in the habit of letting your horse run around under your windowsill, as you tip toe through the tulips for whatever reason. Maybe you are in Holland? Of course, if you live near a canal you can use a sea horse. Sometimes I would wish I could be one of those sea horses you get in the mail and you just add water and you can gallop through the tumbling waves as you ride the surf to shore over and over.

But it is crimson clover as the blood and money run into mood indigo with this kind of thing. So now the tide is turning and deep mischief is going to come to light and all sorts of strange appearances are going to be doing a thing or two. The star ship of our consciousness is hovering over the wide expanding deck of our collective destinies. We are going to see some things soon in this lifetime. The psychedelic revolution opened the eyes of the world to its possibilities. Dreams are born from those dying and returning to the answer of what they had not accomplished. Anger and rage and knowledge of things hidden is coming too. All of this is coming for display on your tomorrow.

People talk about truth and some might seek to find it; some few, in these times the truth is just going to appear. You won’t have to look for it. Of course you can turn away and many do. It is always the many that do the many things that make the truly horrific crimes possible. We all help when our allegiance sways into the chiaroscuro. In these times, the truth is just going to show up, that’s how it goes in an apocalypse. Everything is moving to and fro.

Truth is like a tsunami. The water recedes from the beach to reveal what has been concealed and then comes the response, thundering onto the shore and tearing away the edifices that harbored the commission of the crime. Earthquakes operate in a similar fashion. You can think of some gigantic lady rolling over in her bed in response to some kind of pestering annoyance.

Since everything is mind and made out of mind stuff; if you want to look at it from that perspective, our world is a reflection of our occupation in the sum total; been and gone; one reason to revere or curse your ancestors, as it turns out they happen to be many of you in a returned form. Maybe blessing yourself ahead and behind is not such a bad idea (grin). Philip Jose Farmer wrote a fantastic series called Riverworld and fans of C.S, Lewis and Tolkien would run amiss if they missed it. There are few things I enjoy so much as a good read. When I was a child in France, I used to sit in fruit trees and read books, when I could. There were classics like Tom Sawyer and Rudyard Kipling moving in my world inside, otherwise my world was horrific on the outside. I had to escape the punishment of being an offspring of authoritarian military force and part of the changing dimension of a new becoming.

It was dark times with light through the cracks and it is still dark times but with more light running through more cracks; probably because there just that much more crack available, in every sense of the word. (Warning! Potential spew moment after the fact)

We hold these things invisible (grin) but we can make them so.

In times of awakening there are stretches and starts, it varies, but the fact is that after each new unveiling we are more aware than we were before. Subsequently, we are seeing more deeply and comprehending more comprehensibly. In other words, we are starting to get the picture. Some of us have a good piece of the picture but most of us do not, that is coming more into the picture; if you catch my drift. The net of rising awareness is expanding out to the most outness regions of out. Everything is being lifted up, whether it likes it or not (otherwise it gets the hose. Bark, bark.). In many cases this may just an annoyance (if you are a mountain or a valley) but the rest of us are going to start noticing things.

I mentioned that some sunglasses, among other things (not mentioned) had gone missing and returned. Yesterday, Susanne came in with a pair of expensive Hugo Boss (I have no idea who that is) sunglasses that she found laying in the park while walking the dogs. She left them the first time but came back a half an hour later and they were still laying there. So now I have them as interest on the sunglasses that I didn’t lose in the first place. I’ll go by the lost and found next week and we’ll see if the owner has a clue, otherwise I suppose I’m stuck with then. I will only keep them because there are no LED tracer lights spelling out Hugo Boss over the nose rim... heh, heh.

There is an interesting catch to the story. A couple of years ago, I bought very similar sunglasses at a flea market (knockoffs I guess) for ten dollars and I had several people come up to me and ask me where I got them because they liked them and I did too. They broke eventually, as knockoffs do but it’s the thought that counts and the check is in the mail.

Everyone is looking at the world through their own sunglasses and that accounts for perspective but something in the atmosphere is changing the lens factor across the board. Some people wear them to keep people out and some wear them to lure people in and some even use them as sunglasses; I’m not kidding. They really do. Anyway, ironically so, since it is summer, sunglasses aren’t going to make any difference anymore. A lot of what is happening is happening because of the sun. The sun is the authority in the sky. The Sun is also some kind of authority in the UK but that’s about to change, cause the sun is not going to shine in Rupert’s back door some day. Watch and see.

In any case, I’m off to the therme-bad for the day. I wished I could have taken my guests there this time around but it didn’t happen according to plan, as so many things tend not to do these days. Making plans is a scary proposition at the moment, cause the main plan is pressing its case. We’re just going to have to wait and see.

The thing that surprises me the most is that I don’t see as many people jumping off the ship of doom as I had expected. From my position on the opposite shore I can see through my high tech binoculars that the deck chairs are all taken. I see waving handkerchiefs and all kinds of action; cue Tom Wait’s “Foreign Affair”.

I’ll see you on the other end of the other end, or this end, depending on what end I wind up on. In the meantime, you have my good wishes and gratitude for presence.


End Transmission........

Oh, I forgot♫ My Sunglasses ♫

Beware the Gobblegloom My Son.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

I carried a pair of expensive sunglass lenses around for about 15 years in a paper container. Finally, last year, I had then put into some frames and I’ve been wearing them now and again. While returning from Italy I was unable to locate them at the hotel, which marks the halfway point in the journey. I searched the van in all the locations where I might have put them or where they might have fallen. I did this several times and then I said, “Well, it appears they are gone”. I just let them go and forgot about them. Today I went to drive Susanne and a friend up into the surrounding foothills so that they could walk back to the house with the dogs. I returned home and then realized I had forgotten to stop in town for something. When I got into the van after picking up the item, I looked at the floor and saw the glasses lying near the accelerator pedal. There’s no explanation for how this could have happened. That area was checked and so was every area that had any possible connection to it; through slippage or secretion, not that they had been secreted. Something is wrong with that sentence.

A few years ago, I had come back from a pub with some late night pub crawlers for continued conversation. Everyone in my house was out of town, except for Susanne’s mother who was fast asleep. I had taken these guests into the apartment below, where I had my office set up at the time and pretty soon they began to annoy me because they were drunk and getting rowdy. I had had enough and was right at the point of physically throwing one of them out of the door when the other fellow, seeing my intention and seeing that the other fellow wasn’t getting it; or didn’t think I was serious, which I was, ushered him out of the door. Shortly after, I could not locate my keys in order to get into the house upstairs so I had to wait for Susanne’s mother to get up in the morning and open the door. She was much more mobile then. The upstairs of the house had been locked through the whole visit by my unpleasant guests and I had not gone up there and could not go up there once my keys went missing. I suspected that they might have been taken by one of the guests and thrown into the yard or something. Weeks later I was sitting on a couch in the living room upstairs when something made me stick my hand back into the cushions and... what do you know? There were the keys. This wasn’t possible by any means of ordinary transfer and the sunglasses fit right into the same groove. You would have to have been a witness to my actions in that part of the van to understand what I’m saying.

I was told recently that July was a month I had to look out for. It was the only one that might give me trouble this year and that that would be the end of anything I might call trouble for the long foreseeable future. When I was in Italy working, I forgot all about the date and somehow thought I was still in June when I found out that it was July 4^th. I had been having recurrent unpleasant experiences and then I put together their inception with the timing and I’ve had to watch out since. It’s uncanny how some people can read certain divinatory mediums, just as it was uncanny to have that sort of individuals come into my life over the course of a certain period of time. There hadn’t been any of them for a long, long time before and then, “Shazzam! There they were.

We get our directions; all of us do, from one source or another. We might take direction from our senses or our self consciousness. We might get it from hunches or our intuition. It might come through dreams or from individuals that we seek out for advice but we get it from somewhere. Something sets our course of action and unless we are ignorant or obsessed with something, so that we rationalize all of our actions in order to accommodate it, we tend to rely on our sources for direction. I have my sources and so do you.

Most people are compromised by desire. They want things. They believe these things will bring them satisfaction and that might happen but no satisfaction lasts for very long. The most overrated thing in the world is an orgasm. The common mind associates orgasms with release and accomplishment. This accomplishment is supposed to provide satisfaction and a measure of peace. It seems that way but the peace doesn’t last because the direction the force takes moves into areas of increasing bondage to something that creates the opposite of what it promises. Guilt and loss attend it, except in certain cases. Something within us knows that we have lost something. Well, that was the object, right? We wanted to lose ourselves but the result has been to weaken and intensify at the same time. When lasting satisfaction doesn’t occur we seek ever more arcane forms of release, which have nothing to do with release in any cosmic sense.

The world feeds on our release and uses it to engage us in a continuing spiral, whose result is death, just like the petit morte that is the result of orgasm. We seek death is what it comes down to and that death has the creation of life as its purpose. The sexual force moves in only two directions; down and out or up and in. The world is a magnet for it and the higher realms are a magnet for it and the world is very, very powerful at the moment because this is an age of materialism at its sucking nadir, murderous best. Violence is a product of frustrated sexual desire. It’s the energy that is used to send men to war and to engage them in the other arenas of conflict such as the marketplace and the mating contest game. The vibrationary matrix of sexual fluids is a highway. Everything we do is a modification of this force and all of us are at some point in a relationship with it.

Prior to passage into a higher dimension of awareness there are all sorts of magical and inexplicable events. These are distractions meant to engage you at that level so that you don’t make passage into the realm which is your objective. Sooner or later you become prey for the Gobblegloom which is a devouring beast of despair. Despair is always the fruit of no exit circumstance or conditions where you cannot see the exit because you have lost sight of the goal. This is probably because you have identified and defined the goal and you can’t possibly know what that is because you aren’t there yet. It’s what we do. We name and identify things according to our desire and all desire is sexual; whether you are putting parts of yourself into someone else or pieces of food into your mouth. The world is full of people rerouting their essential drive into ancillary drives to pacify the drive or redefine the activity because of the fear and compromise which comes from acting on the primary impetus and all of this takes place because of a reluctance to send it up and in; to sublimate the beast until it has become modified enough to converse with the angel. That’s the actual goal of life, not endless ranks of progeny that make you feel like God, the same way all the other subordinate appendages, positions and possessions make you feel in relation to your environment. The divine is most certainly real and demands you as a lover but we cheat due to access and convenience and gain the mortal end of the equation. It’s much easier to touch what you can see than to yearn for what you cannot and that yearning must exceed all others.

Lately I’ve seen a relentless appearance of obstruction and the presence of dangerous inattention. Ergo, my attention is on high alert and it’s a good thing. I know why things have been disappearing and reappearing and what all the obstruction and danger potential is all about. I’m being made watchful and also more utterly reliant on something. July is a temporary thing and so it this part of the pathway. I could list quite a number of things that make no sense whatsoever and defy the laws of physics but it’s all about the interaction of the regenerated sexual force coming into contact with something at a new level. The events are unimportant, they’re just indicators. My dreams are turning into cinematic extravaganzas and I am often extraordinarily tired. Sometimes I feel trapped and I see the Gobblegloom licking his chops off camera.

I’m writing about this because the Gobblegloom is ubiquitous and many of us are feeling that hot breath on the neck which can very quickly turn into the cold embrace of despair. This is a state of passage, not a residence and those of you who are feeling some amount of this, need to see it as just as temporary as everything else. The Gobblegloom won’t eat you unless you invite it to. It’s one of the guardians of the gate and you can’t feel despair unless some part of the world has its hooks in you and it can only have its hooks in you at some point in relation to the primary desire; however you may be modifying it for the sake of appearances (grin).

The idea is that you have to let go and don’t worry about the Gobblegloom and his buddies. They can’t do much against that. Everything pressing down on you and all of the smoldering apprehensions sitting on the horizon line in front of you are nothing more than chimera. That you think them more real than that is the problem, one more trompe l’oeil, masquerading as your environment.

The mind is a machine and it generates images as well as operating like an airport. If you are concerned about the way you feel or the conditions you are in look at what is passing through your mind. That is where the action is taking place and where whatever you call reality is being generated/created by reacting to the world as if it were real and had any power at all. It doesn’t (glaring contradiction). It only seems like it does and the seeming is the problem, the same way that what you are attracted to seems to be attractive. It’s not. Once again, I’m talking all around something. It seems to be the only way.


End Transmission.......

Last night’s radio show should be available for download now at the usual place.

Visible sings: ♫ It Always Breaks Your Heart ♫

Weird and Strange and So it Goes

Dog Poet Transmitting........

“May your noses always sense the presence of truth”.

Well now, I’m back a week early because the fellow babysitting the dogs had to go into the hospital because nearly all of his red blood cells have disappeared. We just walked into the house about an hour ago after a thousand mile trip and I’m either fried or bushed, depending on how you describe the state but I’ll write this as my way of saying I am back, even though it wasn’t what I wanted and provides me with a subject for what I’ll be talking about here, so, all things being some kind of equal, although I don’t understand any of it, let’s proceed.

I got to the house in Italy and Susanne and I worked from dawn to dusk for seven days and then decided we would have some recreational time and maybe do some things we might enjoy when we were informed that her friend had been taken to the hospital and realized that we had to come back; so it goes, so it goes. In the process of coming and going, I lost a couple of what might be called valuable items from the material plane and I just let it slide. They got lost in a way that doesn’t compute because they were right there and then they were not.

A morally corrupt astrologer, who might know what she’s talking about, told me that I would be having supernatural experiences the way other people have Cheerios for breakfast. Since all the other astrologers who appeared out of the woodwork; apparently because I was supposed to hear these things at this time, also corroborated this, even though one of them doesn’t even work by the usual western method, I assume it’s true and I assume it’s more true, since I’m looking at these things take place. I’m not going to itemize the weird and the strange since that will take too much time but weird and strange appear to be my new zip code.

In the process of going through weird and strange, weird and strange have spilled over into the moments and circumstances of those interacting with me and since these events are, ‘weird and strange’, no explanation can suffice concerning what people expect and what people get, which puts me in weird and strange, if you catch my drift. I’m okay with that; I’ve lived in weird and strange for most of my life. Most people don’t live in weird and strange and I’m just going to have to trust on my track record to act as an explanation that I can’t give because, well, because it’s weird and strange.

In the meantime, Susanne’s old boyfriend showed up to take care of the dogs and had enough hepatitis to turn him yellow but he seemed good to go. He’d been in the hospital off and on for several months because his heart wasn’t operating properly and no one seems to know what’s wrong with him, which is par for the course with allopathic medicine. I imagine it’s some kind of immune system failure and it’s unfortunate; certainly for him and certainly for Susanne who loves him very much. She’s visiting him at the hospital here right now. He was in Berlin, where it’s all state of the art and they were treating him, even though they don’t know what’s wrong with him.

I feel like everything is going to work out for everyone, even though I don’t know much of anything; I’ve got a wheelhouse filled with faith and the certitude that everything works out for everyone, even if it takes longer than most people want it to. The reason for that is a lack of cooperation on the part of the players in the cosmic drama, who don’t always see it as one. I’ve come to understand that everything that happens to everyone is related to their relationship with the cosmic author of all things and all that time involved, is the measurement of distance between the awareness of those affected and the presence of the one who is reaching and needs to be reached into.

It’s as clear as the wind through the trees to me, even though the wind doesn’t explain itself and one is left with the sound of the voices in the wind, that carries Nature’s answer to our questions, spoken and unspoken, because Nature is god’s trumpet, speaking in the tongues of the unconscious, as it rises into the plane of the self conscious, having been prompted by the author of all things. All of this should be clear as sunlight to everyone who knows what I’m talking about and as opaque as the mud of the material world, that blinds those engaged in it from the manifestor behind the manipulator of the appearances of the permutations of the one thing.

One tries to operate from one particular point of observation, which is constantly changing due to alterations made in the perceptual field of the perceiver; as well as alterations made to the perceiver, while attempting to translate circumstances that will make a different impression on every reader, depending on where the reader is standing, on the spiral staircase of existence and keeping in mind both the continuous movement of everyone concerned, while also keeping in mind the quickening at work in ‘this time’, in relation to all of us, depending on our degree of openness to it. Am I being too obscure? I hope not because this is as clear as it gets (grin).

I hadn’t anticipated writing anything for another week yet but here I am. I had hoped to spend this week putting the final touches on the next book; “Spiritual Survival in a Temporal World”. I’m going to do that and get it off to the publisher around this time next week but I’m also going to be writing for you, which is the only reason I engage in any of this because it wouldn’t make much point writing it for myself.

I look at what I do here- sometimes- and it’s a mixed bag for me. I don’t enjoy it and I don’t dislike doing it either. It just happens. My whole life has just been things happening and every time I try to have some kind of personal input into it, it nails me into one more condition of failure, in which my personal efforts are proven to be no more than woven moonbeams upon a sea of samskara. I used to mind this quite a bit and I suppose the whole point of what I am writing here is that I don’t mind anymore; like being called back the moment the necessary work was done in Italy and the loss of certain items, I just let it go and I suppose that is and has been the point of the whole exercise; for me to finally let go of my presumptions and ambitions and just look at every moment and every day as a situation in which I wait to see what’s going on and dance with it. I don’t know why it took me so long to catch on to what’s been happening to me for such a long time. I’m the guy who says that everything is under control and a whole lot of other things but then I operate like one more mask extended into the world, when I have no real connection to it, except for what it is I’m doing right now, or the various permutations of it.

A poet once said, “Teach me to care and not to care, teach me to stand still”. I don’t remember who that was at the moment but I get what he meant more than I ever have and all sorts of things are touching each other now, when they were just acting off of each other before. It’s as if whatever friends and enemies I’ve ever fantasized that I possessed, have suddenly found something authentic in one another in a powerful and inexpressible way that wasn’t possible before, because I wasn’t willing before, because, well, because, quite frankly, I just don’t know. It appears there are all kinds of, “I don’t know” and I was missing one of them, which had been operating- in its absence- as a reflexive, “maybe I do know” but I didn’t know about it, because it was hiding in the operation of the personality that I had been using as a transmission vehicle, without taking into consideration that it was not entirely transparent.

Supposedly, exactly on my coming birthday, certain possibilities will be at the highest potential they have ever been for me and this is being echoed by all of those who have been engaged in interpreting my chart, which comes to about 6 of them, give or take and I’ve known about this event which has been coming for a long time so, it’s not a surprise, though the event will surely be and it may or may not be precise but it’s inevitable. I’ve come to understand that nothing prevents it but us and that it becomes definite and immediate (cosmically speaking) the moment that nothing else has any more meaning or value. It’s a curious feature of our deluded humanity that we don’t get the glaring fact that everything is based on the one thing that is obscured by our misidentification of it with anything other than it. That’s all that keeps us hanging around and repeating ourselves. The moment we catch on, the sum of all of our desires are delivered to our doorstep, for the enjoyment of the principle, in the most complete and profound ways that we have never managed to experience, while we were someone other than the supreme enjoyer of everything. Would that I had the words to elaborate on this but that’s not possible and never will be.

I don’t want to confuse the issue with talk about astrologers and the implication of understanding what is meant by, ‘no man knows the hour of his coming” but then, it’s been here all the time anyway and I imagine that some extended period, filled with peals of laughter, follows upon the dawning of the simplest thing in the world. I think Ho Tail embodies that as much as anyone. Please forgive my poor attempt to make sense out of this, given that it exists beyond the bounds of reason and given that madness is a prerequisite. The one thing I’m sure of is that it all works out and that we are all more OK and blessed than we can imagine. The only thing blocking our full appreciation of that is us.


End transmission.......

Visible sings: ♫ Then You Let Go ♫
Lyrics (pops up)