Thursday, April 26, 2012

The Long Way up the Mountain on Memory Lane

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always block your ear,when it's ugly and too painful to hear. Ahroooooooooooooooo!

It never rains but it pours. Yet today,the sunlight spills like a waterfall of love, through my garden of remembered pain. It's possible anything could happen today. God is in his Heaven again. Patrick scores another 3 pointer with nothing but net. We haven't seethe best of it yet. He didn't do the whole thing and, since it is a tad profane (grin), I won't put it in today's Origami but in the comments when I can.

This I do want to show you. This is one of the most remarkable expose possibilities to come around in a long time. I don't wish any of it,because people will die from their Kali Yuga addictions; many people will die but the ashes will birth a Phoenix, that flies toward the sun and our new world will have begun.

As always we need to present All the Proof in the World that Israel did 9/11 (While Larry Silverstein is still looking for more money) and then move right along as our faith and hope shall leaven. Rise sleeping angels. Rise dreaming gods. Rise to the moment before us, against all odds. How good can it get, in this transition game, as the healing arrives for the halt and the lame? One day that someday becomes our tomorrow and it actually comes and transforms the sorrow, as our long walk of darkness is turned into light. The true dawn has broken and all is made right and the sons and daughters of the one true one, dance on the mountain tops in joy.

Unbridled optimism can be scary thing but I hear the bells ringing and I have to reply. Lady Nature will come and dry every eye. Good fortune to heroes, the quick and the dead. These are not sugar plums that dance in my head. The wind carries this too, from my heart to you and I'm getting trite so, what can I do? Maybe just go write whatever it is that I came here to say(grin).

It rained most of this month and sometimes it was cold and shiver making, since Spring came so early here in February, but finally the warm weather has come back and I’ll go roam the woods with my faithful four-legged companions today and just inhale the promise of what I imagine waits ahead; around the corner, at the top of the hill, behind those trees off to the right or inside of me where I want it to be.

Some day, one day, all that work, all those relentless days, following one another, on a wing and a prayer,all those mistakes, all those second and third and one thousandth attempts, that led to more attempts, all those things that didn’t happen and those that went sideways, all those small windows that fired up the hope to keep on keeping on, one day that all pays off. So many of us, just slink away and slip away and turn away, because the road through Kali Yuga doesn't seem to go anywhere, except in circles back up on itself, but that's an illusion and so is the Kali Yuga for that matter; at least the way we perceive it is an illusion and our idea of the person perceiving, it is also an illusion.

However, one day, someday, becomes today and that is the promise and that is our hope and we truly expect that ain't all she wrote. Like it says in The Bible, “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither has it entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for them that love him”. As is so often the case, most minds do not forensically inquire into the meaning and impact of the things that pass into the mind and often avoid the analysis of the wisdom of the heart. Things that the mind might grasp objectively, it cannot absorb viscerally, which is why you can acquire all of the knowledge and powers of magic and will,become Magus or mentor, but you will have to return and gain what the heart contains in its formerly unrevealed state. Those who follow the path of the heart, have all of these other things added to it,automatically, but I have said this before, haven't I? Has it been forensically investigated? I expect here and there it has, because none of us would be here otherwise, including me. How deeply have we inquired? Of course, it has not been deeply enough, because then none of us might be here as well (grin) and then again we might still, but after another fashion and to much greater effect. This is what we aspire to (me and my invisible friends) and this is what you aspire to. Time and results are impressively affected by this, just as“success is speedy for the energetic”, or so says The Bhagavad-Gita but... I've said that before, haven't I?

Just out of our site and closer than we can possibly imagine, the little blue boy and all of his attendants,reside at right angles to our perception. The little blue boy is closer than any of his retainers, though it is the retainers we see,because the object of seeing, is to awaken the awareness of the presence within. It is like a persistent knocking. It's like that picture/painting that you saw as a child, with Jesus Christ standing at the door and knocking. The whole process is like someone pulling on a door to open it, who turns after a time to find himself in the same room with the object he imagined was on the other side, behind him at the door behind him, which explains his difficulty in opening the door in the first place (grin). It's kind of like a Rumi poem.

When I moved to Woodstock, I wound up living in a teepee with Michael Green. We used to cook Bannocks in the morning for our breakfast. It's a Native American dish. Before that, we would be up at dawn and in the winter, we would walk barefoot to the stream and bathe in a truly refreshing manner. Sometimes Michael would walk into town from our teepee site, three miles down the mountain and then 8 miles from Wittenberg to Woodstock to our Macrobiotic restaurant, Five Rock City Road, barefoot. I also owned The Ajna Book store, an occult/spiritual book store, on Tinker Street above the health food store. When Guru Bawa came to town, he took everyone spiritually wired back to Philadelphia. Michael is still there, on his farm outside the city, living with Sally, who was my girlfriend for several years, before I made that fateful decision to go rock and roll, when I should have stayed in place. Well, no point in crying about spilt years at this point. Even if you take the long way around the mountain, it is whether you get there in the end that counts.

Every month or so we'd invite other seekers from the area, to The Stone Circle that was built there at the teepee site. People would walk there in the evening, 3 miles up the road into the woods, sometimes with flashlights and sometimes with only candles and we would all sit around in a circle inside the stone circle, around the campfire and have 'a session' built around the Native American peyote ritual, which Michael had brought the knowledge of, from his time at the Hitchcock estate in Millbrook with Timothy Leary. We would chant, “Om Amitabha” all night into the dawn and get so high and unified that the LSD was nothing more than a booster rocket. Words cannot describe or convey the image of those events. These days I would like little more, materially, than to be in such environs again. Oh yes, my brother.

The platform in our teepee was built by one of the masters of the genre, who came from North Carolina. His name is on the tip of my tongue but not going fur... ah.. Darry Woods was his name. He's mentioned here somewhere and if you google his name with 'tipis', he comes up for sure. This beautiful wood floor, with drainage features and air intakes and out-takes, was always covered with rugs and sheepskins. The liner was painted and items from the woods, like birch bark, adorned the interior. Michael and I would chant often and have those deep meaningful conversations one can have under the circumstances. Michael looked like he was carved out of stone and he still does. He was and is a rock and he never swerved in his course. I was much more mercurial and wild but as I said, it's not how you get up the mountain but if you get up the mountain. He's one of the greatest artists I ever met and his contributions to this life cannot be precisely measured. He's a gem and a jewel in god's headdress. I’m a fuckup but I'm trying to quit.

I met some wonderful people on my way to this moment and I hope to meet such folk again. This is how god reveals himself/herself to us, through other people and through what we become when we are around them. I remember when it went south for me, when a fellow, still a friend but at a distance now, turned me onto Cocaine and changed everything in my world. I didn't smoke then. I didn’t drink. I walked around in a long black cape and gained such a presence, via routine integrity, that I was even asked to run for town supervisor by the Democratic party. I remember a gathering at this lawyer's office, when I was talking to, the then town supervisor, Val Cadden, about my possible candidacy and Michael walked into the conversation and said, “Yeah, and what are you going to do about this and about that? That was it for me (grin).

We've come to the end of memory lane for the moment and the present manifests around us again. I've no doubt we'll return here at another time. In the meantime, stay frosty my friends and hew to the course, sooner or later we come out into the bright meadow of that which lies beyond all the brambles, tangles and wrong turns we came through and across on our way into there.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: God in Country by Les Visible♫ I Need More Light ♫
'I Need More Light' is track no. 4 of 11 on Visible's 2001 album 'God in Country'
Lyrics (pops up)

God in Country by Les Visible

Last Sunday's radio show is still available for those who haven't been.


Visible said...

Okay, here's the full version of the piece Patrick did-

aight aight aight aight
right right right right
dumbit down, dumbit down
pimps and ho's pimps and ho's
back on a leash for the devil again
acting the fool, only it ain't pretend

This must be some law of physics
if 3 pimp rollers are moving backward on a train
and you're standing in the station
maybe humming 'love in vain'
will they arrive in grand central before you?
will the same thing happen on another day
even though you are not moving and
they are going the wrong way

aight aight aight aight
right right right right
dumbit down dumbit down
down to the bottom

saying "stupid fresh", aight aight aight
dis this, dis that
word up! what's the word
for someone who buys into flash
into the temporary life that is
already gone past?

burning and raging
till the fuel is gone
and it's cold and it's lonely
and you got to move on.

Call a man brother if brother he be
or you cop to the fact of the real you and me
are the same as the other
that might just be so
but the rest of it's bullshit
believe me I know

aight aight aight aight
right right right right
dumb it down dumbit down

when I rap, I often think of
Spinoza and Descartes as if they were
filtered through a buzzard and then
turned into a fart
they both may have some merit
though aesthetics tend to vary
like the Starship Enterprise
from the Staten Island Ferry.

You got your Battleship Galactica
Michael Jackson faggot,
dressed up like a Christmas tree
and you're talking like a parrot.
every single rap song can't remember what it said
the McDonald's side of music
it's disposable and dead.
It leaves plastic cartons rotting
on the sidewalks of your mind
you're bitch end up for Walmart
they are porking your behind

the shit comes on the radio. thumping. saying nothing;
bitch this and punk that
brain rape jackhammer bad fucking technique
nowhere repetition
can't get no relief
sounds like machinery from a factory in Hell
dense as a brick of compressed shit
this garbage really smells.


Visible said...


aight aight aight aight
right right right right
dumbit down dumbit down
gotta wonder where it is this is supposed to go
gotta wonder where this music is headed
what kind of world it means
what kind of flowers grow there
what kind of people go there
what kinda I don't know where

I am where was I going
who was I when I started heading down into matter,
down into denser, darker
hotter, thicker, closer, pressing, condensing,
pushing... can't breathe in this hot
smoky Steven Hawking's bent outa shape
so as to make it look straight
like Picasso on crack took a chainsaw
to the world

and some retard with a can of glue
pasted it back together in one piece
on top of the other pressing and smashing
and no light, no air, no freedom
and I don't fucking care cause I'm
dead now but I thought it was over
shit it ain't over
I'm still here pressing
harder pressing, into the shit
only the music is like knives
cutting me with a bunch of
bitches and ho's and motherfuckas and fuck this
and fuck that, every word a knife in my pressed into the shit

please god give me something else
let me out of this jackhammer thudding
non-stop shit talking, nowhere embarrassing
non-art form load of shit that I bought into
with everyone else and all it did was make Walmart rich
and all it did was make the merchants rich
and they sold it like they'll sell anything
their mothers and their children
even themselves if they get a good price.

saw off the limb they're standing on,
do a Mobius fuck themselves up the ass on TV
for the right money
call Hitler honey, suck Pol Pots dick
aight aight aight aight
hit the clubs with Mick
right right right right
dinner with stalin- cocktails with Marlon
douche up with Elton
dig up Red Skelton,
my face is melting
cause I took acid with
bitches and ho's and pimps and punks
bitches and ho's and pimps and punks
" " " " " " " "" " " " " " " " " "
nice world dudes
real Michelangelo, Beethoven, enhanced natural groove
very clean and crystalline
real architecture
real Spanish guitar and pianisimo forte
a la morte...dead..dead and stinking.
stinking bad...bad ...bad...
aight, aight, aight.

Visible said...

Ah, what the heck, this is off the rap album too. Yes, I have a rap album, just haven't recorded it yet but may do-

"Paris Hilton, Poor Little Rich Ho".

I knew the end was here
I knew the end was near

When Paris Hilton wasn't drowned
She really should have been put down
they shoulda took her to the vet
She was rode too hard when her brain was wet.
She leaked a bad porn video
To show us she's a worthless ho
Big tattoo's on a skanky ass
She's got no form, she's got no class
She fucks as good as she can act
And that's a traffic accident
A rubber-necker’s horror show
A scene beyond embarrassment
A clueless, mindless bimbo chick
A raw sashimi turkey neck
A vomit raising afterbirth
Of road-kill rising from the dead
And sprayed on thick with Urethane
Thick perfume and Verathane
Pork in polyurethane
A pig in a space blanket- yea baby
J. Edgar Hoover dressed in drag
Would not look this bad

I knew the end was near
I knew the end was here

She wrote a book about her life
I didn't know she had a life
I didn't know that she could write
And now I hear she sings as well
Like a tormented soul in Hell
If ugly goes right to the bone
If corruption goes into the grave
You can't put Paris in the dump
This chick will not bio-degrade
This vampire zombie honey is
Like a Pauly Shore with money
She as tasty as an oil slick
I wouldn't fuck her with Ender’s dick.


Visible said...


I'm not so proud I wrote this shit
But someone has to nail that twit
Someone has to make the call
Someone has to have the balls
It's bad enough what sells these days
Bitch boys dance and lip-sync chicks
The lyrics suck, the films are crap
And we got cancer they call rap
Garbage in and garbage out
What the fuck’s it all about
Where the fuck’s the doorway out

I knew the end was near
I knew the end was near

But Paris Hilton takes the cake
A Nobel Prize for sucking shit
Short-listed for the worst in show
Like diet pills instead of blow
A cartoon polyester Barbie
Very lower astral larvae
Unreal game show letter girl
Dead man oyster with no pearl
Heart of stone and chilling cold
She'll look good when she gets old
Two or three years from now
Two or three years from now
I knew the end was near
I knew the end had come
There's been some bad acts on the stage
But this chicks really numb and played.

Visible said...

And one more, don't make sense but not all Michaels are in vain (grin). It's not finished yet but getting there.

"Too Many Michaels"

fucked up alchemists
turning gold into shit
marching backwards into the pit
deevolutionary revolutionary half-wit
and company bacon crackling
swine tasting event at the knocking shop
legs spread ass up on the bed
in the display window
flagrante non-delecto
Your punk ass like an olive minus pimmeto
stuffed with the adoration of a retarded clientele
driving your limo through the gates of Hell
you and the gin soaked queen of england
get to marinate in the firey lake of brimstone
and Starbucks cappucino
I guess since the whole world is drunk you should
make drugs illegal
anything they don't
control got to be against the law
or will be
but you just wanta piece of the action
you just want to look good on TV
you just want to cum until you die
you just want a piece of the pie
you just want to be in front at the front of the crowd
as close to the shit as the space will allow
like a smear on the glass of the opening night
get you blood on the street and you name up in lights

nothing gets remembered
ain't no thing got said
just disassociated voices
talking in your head
blind and clutching faceless crowd
all of them before you bowed
got the dark narcotic drug
keep mistaking it for love
like canyon deep is god
deep and up above
deep and up above

michael jackson grabs his crotch
michael jordan from the key
michael from the golden throne
too many michaels here for me
michaelangelo and michaelmas
the whole routine can kiss my ass.

Love To Push Those Buttons said...

I find your tons of type-os strangely comforting. Slightly manic this morning, are we? I've been feeling optomistic myself, though I get the feeling most of the common folk who have something vested in this Hell Hole would be horrified as to why.

I've had my weekend plans derailed by MY invisible friends, and I'm gonna do what they say this time. In the past, when I didn't (ego, stupidity. . .), I generally got into trouble, so I think I'm old enough now to know better. A half a century, huh?

Something's gonna blow, and blow big time. Maybe next month? I saw a post on rense (I think) that said Israel was gonna attach Iran on May 23. Of course that probably means it won't happen then, but perhaps sooner; and I suppose that will probably be THE major catalyst to get this show on the road.

The winds of change are sweeping by, and I can FEEL it!!!!!!!!!

Oh, it's so wonderful to be locally nuked from those winds of Fukushima when you're finished doing what you've set out to do here, and ready to move on.

Visible said...

Wow! I even found one more partial print. Think I may just record all of this. Why not?

"Untitled as yet"

My dick is bigger than your dick
my car is faster than your car
My ho's fatter than your ho
My shit's hipper than your shit
My beats deafer than your beat
My raps dumber than your rap
my ill's sicker than your ill
my eubonic make Bo peep catatonic
my brain douche is a real hi-colonic
gonna wipe the slate clean
I don't know what I mean
Whatever it was I forgot it.

My ass is bigger than your ass
My shits wider than your shit
My bitch is fresher than your bitch
Her pimps meaner than your pimp
MY ho's dumber than your ho
My beats missing a few beats
two pops short of a mean streak

No punk I ain't dyslexic
I'm apocalyptic
gonna waste the horizon
won't be no compromising
on whatever it was that it was

Anonymous said...

via Homer..

Right back where I started from!


Venerable Master Hsuan Hua...

“If one is simply able to recite ‘Namo Amitabha Buddha’, one will certainly be reborn in the Land of Ultimate Bliss, where, transformationally born from a lotus, one will see the Buddha and awaken to the patience of the uncreated, never again to retreat to the Small Vehicle [HINAYANA], or to the status of a common person. If what I say is not so, I will gladly descend into the hells."

Richie (Dana) said...

Look around you people.
Just exactly what have these idiots done recently to actually harm you in any way?

Oh sure, you have some isolated incidents of government thugs bullying some farmers and sellers of milk. You have the lowest class in America stationed proudly in their stupid uniforms and stinking badges eager to fondle granny’s underwear and lear at the naked scanner pics.

Passing some stupid oppressive laws allowing them to kill you with impunity is not the same as getting it done. Just exactly who is going to be doing all this killing of millions of souls who now stand against their tyranny?

Their plans for war and oppression are an absolute joke. There is no creativity in the same old tired plans they used frequently in the past. We are on to them. We see what they really are and it is truly a pathetic sight.

I look and these greedy little killers hording their mountains of ill gotten gain and I actually feel sorry for them.

Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. Hebrews 13:5

He gives power to the weak
and strength to the powerless.
Even youths will become weak and tired,
and young men will fall in exhaustion.
But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:29-31

Who are we to believe? These ridiculous clowns and their cheap threats, or the Lord of this universe?

I tell you that these fools will not be allowed to use their nuclear weapons again. They are already rendered powerless. We refuse to grant any more power to them via the mechanism of Fear.

My mind is on the Divine.


Visible said...

What typos? Typos are not my usual forte and if something happens in first posting I always go through and fix it. The sticking together is not my fault, it's something that has happened with blogger switching over to a new interface, which sucks, I might add.

Clarity said...


It was all beautiful, the visions, hopeful and optimistic. It was encouraging to read.... And then to meet the stark contrast of the lyrics in your comments. I had to laugh, and I look forward to hearing them as songs, as this is something I just cannot imagine. If I weren't at work, I'd visit Patrick's link, but alas, that will have to wait for a more appropriate time. I have a family member who is a rap artist. I will send you a link to one of his songs.

Thank you for the beautiful picture you painted with your words. I remain at peace, as I try to listen to my inner guides. My outer guides, you and those who post here, are valuable as well.

Lee, if you missed it, there were a number of responses to your question on PD.

Love to all,

Visible said...

By now everyone knows that I hate most rap. I did enjoy Arrested Development, Eminem and some Public Enemy. Here's a little something from the sons of one of the commentators here and it's extremely well done.

These are Ghana's sons at work, impressive to say the least.

Sim said...

I used to think that all rap sucked.

I still do - except for this guy, Kirk Nugent.

You don't even need to listen too closely to hear his reference to Smoking Mirrors in his lyrics...?

He's my brother and yours and it's guys just like him that I'd like to have livin' in ma 'hood.


Visible said...

Well, that is very very good but I did not hear Smoking Mirrors. It's not technically rap as I understand it, sans all the sound effects but more what I call machine gun poetry. It's very good, nonetheless.

Sim said...

Ooops, perhaps he rapped (or not) Smoke and Mirrors.

Glad you enjoyed it, either way.


Anonymous said...

difficult to qualify rap as music. expressionism perhaps, should we snap our fingers at the end?(grin)

no, not nils.

Anonymous said...

Hey, Vis, you know you got the goods, right? The puppeteers at the top of the music biz aren't interested in real talent (otherwise, you, me, and a lot of other people would have platinum-selling CD's by now). Which doesn't mean you shouldn't keep rockin', you should! Keep putting your lyrics and music OUT THERE. I loved that rap about "My ho's fatter than your ho". I laughed so hard I almost threw up my oatmeal. Ha ha! Keep writing, my's about getting the piece done, not selling it. (Or, as you put it in this post, "'s not how you get up the mountain but if you get up the mountain".) Thanks for this post; it helped me regain my focus on what is really important (being around like-minded individuals who can help us open the right doors, and get the right answers)...

Anonymous said...

Davy sez :
{overstepping the crap that justifies the existance of napalm}

Sowing on the Mountain...

What else is Knew ?

...for purposes of demonstration...looking over the edge kinda gives one that sensation that comes with "falling" dreams...

fixate on beauty...and the Divine, after all it is spring and the flowers are in bloom....

Visible said...

Too bad about the oatmeal. Damn! I wish I had an engineer to help me like I used to on Maui. I got all the 'quipment (grin) and no left brain capacity, or not enough.

I need somebody around these parts who wants to help me get it done. I'll do it myself and I'll do a credible job (since I got the goods- grin) but nothing like what would happen if I had a real engineer. I got the conductor. I got the ticket agent. I got the dining car steward and the bartender but I don't have the engineer.

Consider this a prayer to the cosmos. I got all these tv shows. I got chops for broadcasts but no partner to light a fire under my posterior and nail the frame together. It's one thing to be able to design a house and another to build it.

Alright folks. If any of you cool people are going to be in my neck of the woods come the solstice, remember that I attend one of the great celebrations and you can too.

Love To Push Those Buttons said...

It was the words running together that is now gone. I had no clue of the cause, but my typing is terrible when I'm in a 'upped' state. I move too fast, and I've had posts that were a nightmare, and it was too late to edit when I reread it later on a forum of mine, amongst other things. Sorry about jumping to conclusions.

Visible said...

Here's a serious asshole alert.

We all know that Napolitano and Pistole are going to Hell (oh there's another song for the album) and that they can't go too soon for the rest of us but what kind of people do this kind of a thing for a living. There is a tremendous need for a smack down here and the punisher can't come out the inner planes too soon to carry it out.

Man I am so glad I don't live there anymore, not that the life I had there could be called living a lot of the time anyway given who was running the joint. Europe is so very different. It's just not like that here and you don't really need to take planes if you like trains and I do.

Gregory F. Fegel said...

After 9/11, speaking 9/11 Truth is the litmus test which defines who's really hip, and not just a shallow entertainer. My favorite rap song is: (see the youtube video) "Immortal Technique- Bin Laden"

Then there's "Immortal Technique Cause Of Death Lyrics"

missingarib said...

vis, memory lane ,down past the old weather vane,where the children of lesser gods romped in yesteryear ,ya seems the past is up for review especially as the saying goes "young men live for their dreams, old men live for their memories" life is always under review ,alas- anyway back to the moment ,lyrics from george harrison Beware Of Darkness lyrics

Watch out now, take care
Beware of falling swingers
Dropping all around you
The pain that often mingles
In your fingertips
Beware of darkness

Watch out now, take care
Beware of the thoughts that linger
Winding up inside your head
The hopelessness around you
In the dead of night

Beware of sadness
It can hit you
It can hurt you
Make you sore and what is more
That is not what you are here for

Watch out now, take care
Beware of soft shoe shufflers
Dancing down the sidewalks
As each unconscious sufferer
Wanders aimlessly
Beware of Maya

Watch out now, take care
Beware of greedy leaders
They take you where you should not go
While Weeping Atlas Cedars
They just want to grow, grow and grow
Beware of darkness (beware of darkness)

such memories-thanks for your life live long

Gregory F. Fegel said...

"Immortal Technique Wake up"

"The Book of Eli (2010) - Immortal Technique - The Point of No Return"

"Immortal Technique - Freedom of Speech Lyrics"

"Immortal Technique - The 4th Branch (Lyrics)"

Visible said...

Not a problem, I'm just pushing your buttons (grin).

Yeah, people mention Immortal Technique. However, even with good rap, I get restless and uncomfortable because it forces itself on me somehow. I like softer, sweeter things. I especially love ambient sound. Maybe I'll crank up Reason and put some between the tunes of this anti rap album I'm going to do. That might be cool.

People shouldn't take my critiques of the medium too seriously, I only speak for myself and not for others, nor do I judge them for it either. I hate freeway jazz, the kind of thing that comes out of Bitch's Brew and some of Coltrane's work and those he fathered. Yet I love jazz but not all of it, especially when it gets into John Cage land and dissonance just for the sake of dissonance and being out there. Give me Joe Sample, Kenny Burrell, Eric Gale, Cornell Dupree, Steve Gadd (obviously I liked the group "Stuff"...) Richard Tee, Pretty Purdy, of course Al Dimeola and all of that crew from the Friday night concerts, John Mahavishnu (grin) etc.

Anyway, running off at the mouth here.

Anonymous said...

Cocaine--the most pointless ingestable. The perfect drug for this materialist zioswamp.
It's always just a matter of time before it sends you off your rails and drags you along with it.

No wonder goverment policy is skewed towards the biggest profit margin and the widest possible distribution, along with it's counterpart, heroin.

Wars are fought over wealth and/or the control of that wealth. Always were, always will be. Wars are devised around these two drugs. Anyone think we've been fucking with Afghanistan and S. America for 'democracy' or 'security'??

Never heard of a war for the maximization of pot, mushroom or peyote supply/profit. Never will, either.


Gregory F. Fegel said...

Last month, I heard the PSU choir sing this breathtakingly beautiful little piece: see the youtube video "O Salutaris Hostia by Eriks Esenvalds | PSU Chamber Choir"

Anonymous said...

via Homer..

You mean like this?

Herbie Mann and Duane Allman


Stella Blue said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
MiaBellezza said...

"It is like a persistent knocking...." Yes, I'm relating to this. I'm having a set of dreams, a solution of sorts ... an answer perhaps, and just before I awake there is that "aha moment", but when I awaken it is gone, not fleetingly, but just gone without a trace. Kinda like Terrance McKenna's description of a DMT experience he had that was so awesome, but unable to remember the meaning ... like why the elves holding the geometric spheres kept saying "look ... pay attention". Thanks Terrance, at least I know what they meant by listening to your description and then doing the research ... Sacred Geometry! See you in 5th, I hope.

Perhaps, as with most important answers one seeks, it's asking the right questions that counts. Forensically reading between the lines and paying attention to anomolies is what I found to be most instructive. Wisdom of the Heart ~ One can be clever, but without wisdom you're not playing with a full deck.

I hope I am worthy of what my heart desires. I thank the Creator for the trials and tribulations and the joy, inspiration and the great gifts he has granted me.

Visible said...

Duane Allman is my favorite guitar player, then Jimmy Hendrix, then Al Dimeola. Thanks for that, never heard it before.

Which China scandal? I miss a lot. People are always bringing things up and I haven't heard about them or don't know about them. I really do live a hermetic existence and don't travel around much except inside my head or Nature and you don't really get the same kind of news out there.

Space Doo Doo Pistols said...

Artist: Dr. Octagon
Album: Dr. Octagonecologyst

[Featuring Mr. Gerbik]
I would have been completely dead had it not been for the Shark Man.
Shark Man? *chuckling*
Judging from his appearance that's the most appropriate
name I could come up with for him.
I hate this kid.
This uhh... THING you're talking about.
It had the body of a shark and the arms and face of a man?
That's the chap.
Holy jumping jackfish!
Intro Two: Mr. Gerbik
*moaning, growling*
Yes, you have met the dangerous 208 year-old Uncle of Dr. Octagon.
I myself Mr. Gerbik. Half-shark, half-man, skin like alligator.
Carrying a dead walrus. Check it.
Verse One: Mr. Gerbik
With my white eyes, gray hair, face is sky-blue yellow
Sideburns react, my skin is colored lilac
My skin turn orange and green in the limousine
People think I'm mixed with shark, drinking gasoline
Underwater I breathe and let loose on my sleeve
Walking down Hollywood Boulevard with a credit card
Three alligators behind me, feel my skin is hard
Transvestites, and people watch space parasites
I left his head in the store, legs in the street
Body in Wilcox, with blood dripping off my feet
L.A.P.D. through gray clouds couldn't see me
I first turned rainbow, closed my eyes, watch my brain glow
People got scared and ranned away they think I'm weird
I was born this way, halfsharkalligator
Is he weird??
Chorus: Mr. Gerbik *singing*
"Half man, half shark!"
"Half man, half shark!"
Verse Two: Mr. Gerbik
My vomit fluctuates, covers your skull like protoplasm
Lightning bugs turn pink, on my tongue catches spasms
Green elephants, I battle streets with a zebra
My mechanism is more than Dionne's psychic voodoo
African beads, snakeskins, cold script through you my medical passes
You can't see, with greedy glasses
Carbon dioxide, pour right through em with gases
My description dinosaur
I was made half-shark-half-man, my skin is like razor blades
Seven-oh-seven, Mr. Gerbik
Verbally no one change my thoughts, animals fly from Philly
My appetites more big it's time for wildabeasts
Adjust my skulls, seven eyes switch hydraulic scribbles
and shrimps, mack gorillas like a pimp
Chorus 2X
Verse Three: Mr. Gerbik
In my real world, orangutangs dance for Thanksgiving
With skeleton bones and skunk tails, is my mission
Holding backward raps to all my power packs
Babboons clap, and girl horses wanna hit the sack
We're too bold for ocean water, monkeys sniffin ice
Contact Jupiter pools Martians bring my rice
I'm out flyin with purple capes in the twilight
Oooh ooh ooh, tonight's the night
My oxygen region's, New York to California
Half shark alligator half man!
Outro: PBS "Nature"
It takes a supreme feat of strength to swim through
the water plows while dragging two hundred and
fifty pounds on your back... the crocodile's teeth
are designed to seize and hold, not to cut through
skin. During all the hours the somber lay in the water,
but are unable to penetrate the deer's tough hide.
The crocodiles make a few token objections; but in the
end, give up the struggle.

Richie (Dana) said...


Please feel free to not allow this post if you feel it is unrealistic or frog material.
I have been reading this site for a few days and it is rare to find the level of Love and hope that can be found here. If it does nothing else for you it is still a most positive message.

I have never voted in my entire life because I could feel that it was a scam. I additioanlly avoided appealing to elected officials or signing petitions in the controlled envioronment. I did make an exception in this case as I am moved by the words I find here. When I signed they were 76 away from a goal of 9000 so I will include that link if anyone wishs to help in this endeavor.

God Bless


Anonymous said...

via Homer..

Some truly great guitar here.
This song is superb.

Duane and Eric.

Bacon Wrapped Pork Soda said...

Bailed out on google after the smegmaupload crackdown back in January. If you want massive hits on your blog put up free albums. 1000 hits a day came through for free music. Switched over to wordpress here recently but downloading albums days are over. I would never pay for a (c)rap album so felt no guilt about downloading those. I have 300 albums, discs, and cassettes so copyright nazis can suck me. Didn't you have a wordpress page a few years ago? Duane is the greatest slide player ever and I never tire of the Allmans even the post Duane line up. Dickie Betts is a fine guitarist as well. A neighbor bud has been playing for 40 years and sounds just like Jimi with the wah wah pedal and can slide like Duane well no one can really play like those guys but you get the idea. I like it best when he breaks out the ol' Martin and plays some Mississippi delta blues.

Anonymous said...

via Homer..

Kinda like this?

Is this who Duane once called the greatest bottle neck player of all time?

Gregory F. Fegel said...

Thanks Homer. Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad? is one of my favorites from Layla.

One of my all-time favorites: "MAHAVISHNU ORCHESTRA Visions of the Emerald Beyond Eternity's Breath Pt 1 & 2"

Also "McLaughlin-Santana - Let us go into the House of the Lord"

And "Carlos Santana & Alice Coltrane Angel Of Water (HQ)"

Anonymous said...

via Homer..

This is more like it..

Delta blues.

Stella Blue said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
David Spoey said...

OmniSpo says your sixth synchromystic sense fired on all psylinders when you mentioned bannock. So weird!

Anonymous said...

johnny winter, jimi, stevie, roy (buchanan) then dimeola. saw him play up close and personal one nite at the blue max on front street.

Anonymous said...

Hell yeah, you got the goods. And I hear you about needing an engineer. Computers and software have come a long, long way in the recording-engineering-quality department. You can pretty much play everything and bus it right into your PC and with the right software, you can tweak it and master it right on the old Dell-ski.

But, if that, too, is problematic, I think your recent call to the cosmos will supply you with the missing engineer that you need in time, all in due time...

Now what about this you think we can write a rap song by committee, right here on this blogski of yours, Vis? What if I supply the first line, and then somebody else supplies the second line, and somebody else the third, and etc...well wtf why not. Okay I'll start -

Line 1) Misogynistic rappin' from Duluth to Dubuque

This might be fun...

MiaBellezza said...

Vis, I'm watching a lot of your and Patrick's videos. You guys are all over the place. I loathe Rap too. You've got it right about everything including the banksters. I had a conversation with mine a few years ago and when I presented a Gold scenario to him he got up, started pacing and talking about a violent collapse scenario and his eyes bugged out and well he went bat shit. Now this is normally a calm and collected guy.

Gold is what they really fear. But, it's also the currency of the elite ~ Surprise! That's suppose to be a secret. Silver to the Moon baby. Ever read the book the 'Great Reckoning'? It's upon us. Tick ... Tock. Viva the barbaric metal. ~ !V!

ChewyBees said...

This came to me at the beginning of this piece, so I don't necessarily want to attach it to the end, memory lane and all of that...although...

In a Wm. Blake kind of way, is there a Messiah of Innocence (I assume Jesus the Christ, though of course many others may be a part), and a Messiah of Experience?

Have we, as a people, yet to know the Messiah of Experience? Is that the Second Coming people so foolishly wish for, as if their own lives were above judgment?

And what about the Messiah of Innocence, never knowing the nature of a sexual bond between male and female, or the passions of temptations, here, there and everywhere. Always calling upon the Father to make things right.

Innocence, Experience. It is the Yin and the Yang. Can a Messiah be complete, one part, without the other? If the Messiah is whole, and of God, then how can the Messiah not know all that is Experience?

Which came first?

Anonymous said...

Favorite guitar player ?
Check this:
Martin a.k.a Henry Pike

Steve said...

Richard @ 3:44

Powerful words brother

Anonymous said...

speaking of great guitarists:

Anonymous said...

re: johnny does dylan 'hwy 61' at dylan birthday bash madison square. audience never knew what hit 'em.

and roy buchanan elevates 'hey joe' on millenium masters cd.

just sayin'.

(duane - 'brother, can you spare a dime')

Gregory F. Fegel said...


Just my opinion, and I could be wrong, but my impression is that no one needs the sexual experience or a sexual relationship to achieve Self-realization. Also, for the Self-realization of the individual (and we are all individuals), I don't think it matters if the human race reproduces, or survives, as a species. If the human race dies out, God can simply replace us with something else. We don't need to worry about the survival of our race -- it's in God's hands. What should matter to the individual is seeking their own Self-realization -- not the survival or the perpetuation of the human race. And not a craving to "be in a relationship" with another person. Appetites or cravings of all kinds can make us mentally and morally off-balanced.

In Hinduism, the Laws of Manu say that we should marry and procreate because we need descendants to perform rites for us. The Upanishads and Yoga literature, on the other hand, teach that we should avoid sex, because it involves us in cravings and attachments. I agree with the Upanishads and Yoga on this.

A few months ago, I had an interesting encounter with a woman I met on Mount Tabor. In conversation, we discovered that we had lots in common, and we were very sympatico. She said that she found me very attractive, and I also found her very attractive. But she also said that she wanted to travel to India or Nepal and join a nunnery, and she thought that sex was a detour from the road to Self-realization. I was interested in developing a relationship with her, but she was not interested in any relationships. Now, I think she probably had the wiser view.

Visible said...

Lao Tzu says that the key is to cut down on senseless craving. I agree.

Anonymous said...

Holy flaming catshit, I want a copy of that rap album when its ready.

Thomas said...

haha, sweet raps! The medium is very profane in itself (somehow?), and you pull it off like a pro! ;D

How kind of you to give a message of hope in these times. Excellent post, in my humble opinion. Thanks :)

neal said...

Vis, only sensible things...
manifest fireflies, fhey are so cool. Maybe hold hands, I know that procreates, even giant ground sloths, and such, need that kind of impression.

And Gregory, and Phil, they did not leave us, they just were experimenting.

To see what can happen is a beatiful way to go, maybe all that remains is more than enough, if joy is spellled out in flames.

They did not really go more than this, just anywhere.

I hope you stay alive to see this, has to be a personal. collection, now.

ChewyBees said...

Gregory and Vis, thanks for the reply. I wonder if we are speaking of lustful relations, or a joinder of the soul when I speak of sex? In this day and age (and probably all others, though, I can't speak for them because I can't remember) sex is considered a thing, and act, a manner of self and instant gratification. Yet, at its most profound level, is it that? When considered an unnecessary evil, is it remanded to the heap of things that are also considered unnecessary evils, like drugs and rock and roll?

Truthfully, under the light of the critic, couldn't any action of men be considered senseless cravings? What do we do in our lives that is really above that? Do we create or serve without the satisfaction and validation of some part of our psyche? Don't we all lust and crave for things, some good, in our own estimation, some bad in the estimation of others? Shouldn't our lives be a fulfillment of as many experiences as possible as long as it does no harm to life?

I understand service, to life, to others, to nature, to creation. Even in the most humble action aren't we still ultimately serving ourselves? And why shouldn't we be, considering we are the one direct channel to God we will ever know exists in fact.

These questions are not put forth as some kind of quiz. These are also a lust, for further under-standing of...selfishly enough, me.

I feel like I'm walking on eggshells on top of rice-paper. Some kind of kung-fu test.

Vis, I like to read Lao Tzu, unfortunately it's the application part I generally fall short of...

Anonymous said...

Funny that you mention John "Mahavishnu" McLaughlin.

At the link above you can read of John and the astounding "Remember Shakti" band that played a FREE CONCERT IN PALESTINE with the subsidized ticket money going to help an organization which works with traumatized victims of the occupation.

No wonder this remarkable event receives little attention, even within the music community.
Why should it? You're discussing who's shit rap is better than somebody else's shit rap.

Kind regards,

Anonymous said...

via Homer..

Remember John's acoustic album "My Goals Beyond?"

One of my favorites.

When I saw the Mahavishnu Orchestra they were so powerful I could hardly move when they were finished.

Billy Cobham was so incredibly great! You could hardly see him behind a mountain of drums and symbols.

What a band!

Anonymous said...

via Homer..

Very nice link torus. Thanks.

Gregory F. Fegel said...

To ChewyBees:

You wrote: "I wonder if we are speaking of lustful relations, or a joinder of the soul when I speak of sex? In this day and age (and probably all others, though, I can't speak for them because I can't remember) sex is considered a thing, and act, a manner of self and instant gratification. Yet, at its most profound level, is it that?"

I'd say that sex and "lustful relations" are synonymous, because no one is going to have sex, or seek sex, without lust. No erection or titillation = no sex. Yes, Virginia, your mommy and daddy were horny when they concieved you -- there's no doubt about it.

When I was an adolescent, I understood that the problem with masturbation is not that it would make my wee-wee fall off, but that frequently indulging my sexual urge would keep me in a state of craving sex. The problem with indulging our sexual urges habitually is that our urges will eventually control us, instead of our Selves controlling the urges. What's wrong with that? Well, it makes us feel incomplete, and we feel we need an experience (sex) to feel whole. That state of craving for sex will prevent one from becoming Self-satisfied (or having Self-realization). The same may be said of all kinds of experiences.

ChewyBees, you wrote: "Truthfully, under the light of the critic, couldn't any action of men be considered senseless cravings?"

My answer is yes, almost any action of men could be considered senseless cravings. The sense, or the state, of "I need" keeps us from becoming the "I am". Karma yoga, or selfless action, requires renunciation, devotion, and discrimination (insight or wisdom) to perform.

ChewyBees, you wrote: "Even in the most humble action aren't we still ultimately serving ourselves? And why shouldn't we be, considering we are the one direct channel to God we will ever know exists in fact."

Since only we, ourselves, are responsible for our own Self-realization, we should not expect that a sexual "joinder" with another soul will accomplish that for us. I don't mean to disparage or deny the possibility of a spriritually fulfilling marriage or sexual reltionship. I'm just saying that it's definitely not de rigeur, and that the essential thing for getting Self-realization is developing Self-control and Self-satisfaction.

I'm just stating the state of my understanding here; feel free to criticize anything I said.

Gregory F. Fegel said...

P.S. ChewyBees:

I'm just stating (what should be) the obvious here: when I was an adolescent, I also noticed that obsessing about sex caused me to treat women as sex objects, which is an affront to the Soul or the Self, in them and in me.

Anonymous said...

missed this one earlier
Michael Black poster on my wall as I sit
Came with my last apartment with a
frog wind chime something about
hang in there adi ron dax

Gregory F. Fegel said...

To torus aka Michael:

I'm a big fan of John McLaughlin, the man and his music, and I think it's great that McLaughlin's Remember Shakti played a benefit concert in Palestine recently.

However, during past decades, John McLaughlin has played many times in Israel. I hope that McLaughlin will now join the other artists who boycot Israel.

I was saying that Israel was a racist, fascist, Colonialist oppressor and aggressor when I was a teenager in the 1960s. I'm not very impressed by the insight of people who are older than me who are just beginning to see what I saw more than forty years ago. I'm inclined to say "Welcome aboard -- what took you so long?"

brokenbeat said...


I can really identify with your elusive dream wisdom. For several months now I have had regularly having dreams involving some kind of instruction, insights and realizations that are not recountable upon waking.

Generally, I have good dream recall and am somewhat aware that I am dreaming and that certain details should be retained in my waking conciousness which I record in a dream journal. Lately, however, I have a vague awareness of profundity and revelation, but I can only recall the context, not the content.

The process might involve lectures, tests, experiments, information handling or insertion into my head (poured or stuffed then a lid on my cranium is closed). I have a sense that something significant is occuring and my concious awareness is not required or could be counterproductive.

Perhaps more work is required before I can access this wisdom that is being added to my subconciousness. I had thought all was already in place or could be accessed in the akashic, but this has the sense of updates or revisions. I only hope that it is not some form of nefarious programming.

I realize this comment is late and may not get read by MiaBellezza or anyone that might be interested and/or care to respond, but I hope not. I have been on a trip down my own memory lane to a high school reunion which required recapitulation to bridge a severed past to the present. It has been a transformative experience.


John V.

Stella Blue said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

System of a down Cigro

My cock is much bigger than yours,
My cock can walk right through the door
With a feeling so pure..
It's got you screaming back for more.

Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking

My shit stinks much better than yours,
My shit stinks right down through the floor.
With a feeling so pure,
It's got you coming back for more.

Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking

Can't you see that I love my cock?
Can't you see that you love my cock?
Can't you see that we love my cock?

We're the regulators that de-regulate
We're the animators that de-animate
We're the propagators of all genocide
Burning through the world's resources, then we turn and hide

We're Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking

We're the regulators that de-regulate
We're the animators that de-animate

We're cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking
Cool, in denial
We're the cruel regulators smoking

My cock is much bigger than yours,
My cock can walk right through the door
With a feeling so pure..
It's got you screaming back for more!



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