Skateboarding with a Bent Wheel in Visibilandia

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

'May your noses always be cold and wet'.

Welcome to my world; Visibilandia stretches as far as the horizon permits, according to the reach of my consciousness on any given day. I don’t know how big or small it is. I’ve never attempted to measure it and have no tools to do it with anyway, because the boundaries are always changing and the landscape is not a constant, given that more than one plane and/or dimension of being is in operation at all times and the number of dimensions and planes varies, according to the state of being at any moment. My world includes this world and other worlds. It extends at variable distances within and without.

The meaning and appearance of my world changes, depending on the point and perspective, which depends on the lens in use, or the lack of a lens and that depends on whether what is left of me is engaged in the analysis and observation, or whether it is ‘the witness’ that is so engaged.

People have various takes on where I am coming from and that is mostly determined on where they are coming from, because the same abilities and limitations apply to us all and this will vary depending on our depth and capacity. It is certainly affected by the degree that we can surrender the personal and it is also greatly affected by the degree to which the manifest world and what we have assimilated from it is allowed to affect the way we interpret and understand anything.

When I look at someone like Jacque Fresco, I see a man approaching the age of a hundred years, who lives on a plot of land in Florida, where he entertains a steady stream of students, seekers and pensioners, who show up and want to hear him talk. I see him as an inventor and a visionary, who wants to assist in the architecture of a new world. For all of his complexity of knowledge and experience, he’s a simple man. The movie, The Future by Design, tells you a great deal about him and I can tell a great deal about a person (my assumption) by simply listening to them speak. I believe I can gauge a person’s honesty and intention by what I get from the resonance of their tone of being.

We are all a kind of musical instrument, through which the cosmos plays a particular music. The spirit of the divine sings through all of us but sometimes it carries a tune; sometimes it is dissonant and it can be anything you can imagine because anything you can imagine is present here in someone.

This is a dark age and has been for some time. The historical record shows this and we’ve intimations and sketchy records of greater civilizations that self-destructed earlier on. As much as history is a lie, the one thing it doesn’t conceal, is the degree of violence that has preceded us to this point and the present gives ample proof of continuance. In times of darkness, the worst among us rise into positions of prominence, to perform the perversions of their will, upon the relative corruptions of their subjects. It’s a performance of informed ignorance, acting upon uninformed ignorance. Whatever may have been true and good and honorable in forgotten and more illuminated times, ceases to be any of those things.

The one perception that everyone should imprint upon their consciousness at any time, is that manifest life is a continuous series of demonstrations, for the purpose of lessons that need to be learned. All the world’s indeed a stage and we are each players having our exits and entrances, as The Bard so aptly put it. There is no eternal, shining city on the hill that finally comes into being for us to enjoy here. This world is change, period and you change until you no longer have to be going through changes here. Or you do not change sufficiently and you continue to go through changes here. Reincarnation, like Karma and other features of this plane of being are not metaphysical speculation for me. These things are verities that I do not question, because I have direct experience of them. Whether the reader shares these understandings is of no concern to me, except insofar as they are inconvenienced and retarded in their evolution as a result of it.

As unpredictable as this world may seem, it is highly predictable. Timing may be difficult but certainty of cycling events and conditions are not. A lawyer, who had been commenting at the blogs for awhile, got it into his head that he wasn’t being treated at his preferred level of importance. I thought this temporary state had been ironed out but certain kinds of rage, especially in the area of self importance, are not easily appeased. I didn’t post a comment of his and he told me that he could sue me for having made general reference to the contents of his comment, which I did not publish; how very like a lawyer and this sort of thing extends into every profession, where the practitioner identifies themselves with the practice. Doctors like to play God and it doesn’t matter that they are generally incompetent in terms of healing people. Scholars and experts pretend to knowledge and understanding beyond their capacity and become enraged when they are questioned on their omniscience. Religious leaders present themselves as agents of the incomprehensible and often behave like the unspeakable. Business impresarios are masters of justification for whatever they do to turn a profit. You can extrapolate from this through every pretense and profession. This is just how it is in times of darkness.

Men like Jacque Fresco and others who seek to do good by serving humanity, or in attempting to open the eyes of the public, are often reviled and identified as undesirable, while those preying upon them are viewed with awe and fealty. Certain mysterious seeming orders and lodges, that preserve the wisdom of more enlightened times, are looked at with suspicion, because those who have co-opted and perverted the original intent, paint them in this light through their agents in operation, at various levels of activity. In times of darkness, the outer organizations, that originally took their impulses from higher levels, can often become corrupt but the original tenets were sound before they got all bent out of shape in the service of self interest.

One of the complaints I have received concerning my commentary on Alex Jones and true believers has to do with his level of material success and wider spread of influence, as if I wished I could be like Alex Jones, or that great material success was my objective. Some say that Alex Jones provides an elementary service in opening people’s eyes but as a very savvy reader pointed out, that is not useful if the elementary equation equates to 2+2=5. It doesn’t make for a lot of greater good, if your message is peppered with a certain degree of truth, while major truths are ignored or presented in ways that conflict with provable fact. This is the very essence of disinformation. One can point to all of the correct things they said and use that to bolster faith in obvious lies.

In times of darkness, corruption is a given and over the process of time, what is suicidal and wrong, takes upon itself all of the appearances of something that is good for us. Logic is a fine tool but logic can be used to argue anything from any position and make whatever it is arguing for seem logical and appropriate. We all possess some degree of corruption but, like anything else, the type, degree and intensity have a lot to do with the quantity and quality of harm done.

I freely admit to a certain amount of personal corruption but I am trying to quit (grin). I smoke rollup cigarettes and I ingest psychotropic substances. I go to parties in the woods and dance all night and sometimes drink a certain amount of beer. I’ve engaged in some amount of sexual, wild child engagements, certainly more than most but all of these things are phases of experience, in an atmosphere of change and all of these things have been reduced by a considerable margin and will continue to be because they are all irrelevant to my objective. I’ve been told I was put through all of it for a reason in any case and I believe that is true because I have cried out and appealed with intense regularity to be freed of certain things but they remain until the time for them to go. My corruptions do not extend beyond the things mentioned. That is the key point.

Some people think I am an agent of the government or some shadowy organization that impacts on the government. Some people think because I appreciate the work of some and do not appreciate the work of others that I have to be acting on the behalf of some agenda. In truth, I am acting on behalf of an agenda. I work for the cosmos. You might argue that I’m not very good at it, or that I don’t perfectly represent its perfect intent and you would find no argument from me on that score. I’m a work in progress and I’m working hard. I would have to say that that is pretty much all I do. My mistakes pain me and inspire me to greater effort but all of my efforts are meaningless, until the time the cosmos decides on its own that I am deserving of a greater freedom from my shortcomings and limitations. It’s not by works that we achieve the thing, as has been stated by a much greater channel than myself.

Trying to tell the truth is a difficult art and there’s no great material future in it because most people don’t want to hear it. Of course, the truth is beyond telling and can only be experienced in a certain state of being but that’s incidental to our present status as corporate forms, who must perform and produce something. People talk about not talking and people talk about not doing and living in the deep unity of all things but they’re still talking about it and with rare exceptions, still not accomplishing it. We all have a job to do, whether we know what that is or not. We all have one job more important than any other job, whether we know it or not and that is to ‘know thyself’. Every other endeavor is pointless in the long run but we live in a short run world, where temporary gratification trumps restraint and the pursuit of more enduring things. Up is down here and wrong more often right than wrong. We go along to get along and get nowhere except more deeply entangled. Breaking out of the matrix brings one into another matrix. The one we are being freed from is a perversion upon the one we are escaping into and its all under control. The thing that deceives us, is an expression of the thing that frees us and in times of darkness, achieving that freedom is an act of superhuman effort that will still fail without the good offices of the one in charge. We’re basically helpless but not without help and we should cry out for it the way a baby cries out for its mother because it is the same principle.

Who we really are may not become known in a time of darkness and the work we do may not be seen for what it is across the board. That should have zero impact on our continuing at it. Sooner or later, the fool who persists in his folly will be made wise and as Blake implied, it’s possible that the palace of excess leads to the temple of wisdom. We are the road we walk so there’s no point in arguing about the various well beaten tracks and less well beaten tracks.

I’ve gone on a bit longer here today so I’ll leave it at this point. Good fortune awaits, take advantage of it.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: ♫ When Darkness Falls ♫
'When Darkness Falls' is track no. 5 of 11 on Visible's 2001 album 'God in Country'
Lyrics (pops up)



-having to do with turning into a pillar of salt.

Don’t look back. You’ve heard that before. Bob Dylan said it for some reason. I figure he got it from Satchel Page whose admonition was based upon the fact that someone might be gaining on you. There are a lot of reasons not to look back. I’m less concerned about whether someone might be gaining on me as I might be about getting sucked back into the outgoing tide or inclined to repeat something whose result I forgot between the last occurrence and the one looking to happen again.

Nations repeat things. Religions repeat things. Individuals repeat things. Sometimes you repeat things to reinforce the message, like a good discipline or habit. Sometimes you do it because you just don’t know any better, or you do know better but you don’t care. Sometimes you repeat things because you just never get them and you think if you keep repeating them somehow it will one day make sense. That’s not out of the question.

There are people who think if they read Thomas Aquinas for a hundred years that they may come across some great truth. They think if they burn a lot of incense and focus real hard on the pageant that the baby Jesus is going to come out of the diorama and talk to them. Many like the sackcloth and ashes thing, or the dressed in black with veils and all sorts of sailboat rigging beneath. A death or a betrayal is a cause for great celebration in reverse. A close death can be good for years of despairing repetitions.

It could just be me. Then again, the chance that it may just be me in regard to anything is highly unlikely. But it seems to me that the billboard is not the product. What I mean is that the thing you are being sold in the ad it not the thing in fact. And further more, the thing in fact is not the thing that was advertised. What I mean is that Coke is NOT the real thing in the back of your mind. Everything that is being sold is generally being sold as more than it could ever possibly be, as something that looks and tastes better than it does, as both supple entwining lover and peace of mind.

The difference between the established churches of the world and Wal-Mart is that Wal-Mart is selling you something that you can take home and eat, or play with, or rub on your body and the church is selling you something that is supposed to make the time that happens in between all of this, and that time as well, worthwhile- and you also get a VIP ticket to the crossover world of whatever Disneyland they told you to be expecting.

The fact is, everything is selling you something. Even in nature, everything is clamoring for attention, whether by scent or color; what have you. At no point along the way is anything you are being offered the actual thing itself. How are you supposed to appreciate or understand the thing out of which everything is made when you only see it after something else has been made out of it?

Where’s the genie in the bottle?

Where is the living God on the altar, in the hymnal, in the air, or outside and down the road? Where is it?

Where is the essential thing that was before any of the things you brought out to your car from the shopping center? Where is and what is that shimmering malleable whiteness that is previous to the thing being tasted, or touched or studied?

What is it that is hiding around and inside of and behind everything?

Alright, is this just a Warner Brothers cartoon where explosions don’t hurt anyone? Is this one of those insane roadrunner things where Wylie Coyote gets destroyed a hundred times and nothing really happens to him? Or does it really hurt? Do you hurt? Are you aware of people hurting? Are you aware of people across the globe hurting because of something you support, practice, believe in? Is it for their own good? Are you confused?

When you broke someone’s heart, or made them cry, or broke their arm; were they a cartoon? Did you feel bad? Did you do it again anyway? Are you still doing it? For some people, other people aren’t real, not in the sense that it matters what happens to them.

Let’s take it on faith that the force or thing that all churches purport to represent actually exists. Let’s also take it on faith that it went somewhere else shortly before or after the church got built. Let’s assume that there is a basic contradiction between the thing and the organizations designed to contain and dispense it. What you see isn’t what you get. Caveat Emptor and yadda, yadda, yadda...

Perhaps the real source of all the heartbreak and cruelty in the world has to do with being sold a false bill of goods. All the disappointments in the world; all the finding out that what you thought was wrong, what you loved was false, what you did was meaningless; all this is based on having believed something that was falsely represented as something else. Have you ever felt like you were close to getting to the heart of thee matter? Have you seen that bright shimmering thing at the peripheral point- disappearing around the corner just when you turned to look? Have you felt it bubbling up from the deep internal springs? There is was and there it went away; where it came from and where it went remains a mystery.

The comfort of tradition and repetition; the solid feel of the pew and the pistol and the historical precedence and justifications for bad actions- or, just about anything you want to convolute into being perfectly okay, is not the thing it’s made out of. It’s not the thing itself. It’s a crystallization of something that is no longer breathing inside of it. God went dancing down the road just as soon as God was done with that particular story. God undressed and dropped those clothes that now hang behind glass, wreathed with incense and sometimes alleged to cry tears of blood.

It’s not the easiest thing to talk around and through the thing itself. I guess I just want to tell you that disappointment is to be expected when you buy the package that doesn’t contain the thing itself. You can look back forever. You can turn into salt. You can repeat the words and maybe get lucky, or maybe not... but it’s the thing itself that you are after and it is waiting for you to recognize a critical feature. It’s waiting for you to realize that this is an internal affair, that it is alive and that it is part of you and that it is listening in. It’s not outside there somewhere. It’s not in any of the places that are proclaiming the presence. It doesn’t satisfy out of a Coca Cola can; that way lies tooth decay and diabetes, period. You may get a taste of it in the presence of numbers reaching in a confined space, for part of a moment- but the actual possession of, the discovery of it requires a reach past the swirling clutter of the ages... constantly doing the ‘new and improved’ dance of Shake and Bake presto manifesto.

Sooner or later we got to leave some things behind and this may hurt. It hurts less depending on how you feel about leaving them. It may even feel really good. That’s up to you. I guess it’s because you can’t have the thing itself as long as... Well, I’ll stop there and let you take over.