From the Ridge, one more Valley and one more Mountain.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Climbing and climbing, mind on the pathway, uneven going to the top of the ridge. I see the rock shelves and boulders and I know I am close now. Soon enough now, I break through to the top of the ridge and there's the valley below me and still one more mountain. I thought this was the last one but that's how it is (grin). Here we be musing in a John Muir sort of a way, if he'd had a black preacher spliced into his frame; shit happens and it don't happen, sometimes they're the same.

I catch myself sometimes with one version or another of, “I'll sleep when I'm dead”, but... for some inexplicable but definite reason, I know that doesn't apply to me. India looms in my mind. The scary (well, not scary, more like startling or awe inspiring) thing, is the amount of fore-informed conditions and events that occur, not exactly as presented but close enough for rock and roll. The frequency and consistency of these things has been noticeably increasing of late to where abnormal is now the new normal. Out there in 'the real world', another kind of abnormal is becoming normal. Not that long ago, 'the real world' was just another 'reality' TV show, along with the aptly named, 'Big Brother'. These days we've got reconstituted offal, going by the name of Oprah, being entranced by Kim Kardashian enough to now be scheduled to appear on her show. You don't need to make this stuff up. It is self-regenerative. I expect to see Oprah jumping up on Kim's serially abused couch, screaming, “I'm in love”! Poor couch. The long and painful death of the couch kitten has given a corpse birth to the couch lizard and couch wolverine.

The terrible irony of the bloodthirsty Howdy Doody, with Nobel Peace Prize, in the long tradition of Henry Kissinger, marches on into the long night of the living dead, attended by the zombie banks, whose routine payoffs, come to nearly exactly the same as the cost of the food stamps program; not in the overall sense, as that amount is seriously larger. The eyes in the forest gleam, like demented Cheshire cats. Their teeth are illuminated by the blood red moon of The Apocalypse. They've been snorting the bath salts that crystallize on the parasite growths at the bases of trees. First they eat the identities and then the eat the faces. It's not all bad news; you'll notice my comment at the bottom of the page.

I think about running with the wolves in Romania but my finances are on hold. As soon as the world takes that great big nose dive, they are going to go up in a big way. There's some kind of a connection there, as I think that applies to some number of us. I note the general, across the board, poverty, of the general reader here and I note the cosmic associative process that relates to scriptural truths, in respect of that. I've got this news ticker in my head now that reads out like a teletype all day. All sorts of new phenomena are coming into existence; faith affirming to be sure but awe-making, nonetheless.

You look at the relentless putsch of the bankers, as global indications, show the great collective eyeball turning upon their industries. There is a vast upwelling of outrage, moving across the landscape. It's muted out in the media. You see an attendant outrage, focused on the criminal nation of Israel, also muted out in the Zionist owned media, but more and more emergent in the comments, following the lying articles. You see direct references being made to flat out lies by Rothschild mouthpieces, like Alex Jones. You see the awakening taking place and increasing, as natural and orchestrated disasters manifest, like invisible flash mobs congregating in empty strip malls, as if they were some sort of modern day temples of the damned, chanting incomprehensible phrases, in ancient and long forgotten tongues, like very pre-Christian glossolalia; renegade Druids with invisible axes and whetstone sharpened plowshares slash the air, crying out for retribution, for things no one can put pedigree to. Buggered history stashed all of that into the unpublished back pages ...but in times like these everything reemerges and cries out in the collective unconscious.

Things like this surface and I only have to read it a couple of times to realize that it's a put-up job, because there was no need for those hosting the meeting to even mention the source of their interest. It's way too damned convenient. This is not to say it doesn't serve that very purpose and deeper things indeed. Of course it does. The key is to tell some part of the truth and then to lie about the rest. I hear the most incredible things here now; they didn't drop any atomic bombs on Japan; no offense intended to those who have mentioned these things. This didn't happen. That didn't happen. There's no radiation coming out of Fukushima. Good grief! Well, I can't say, can I? What do I know but... well, like I said, good grief! The Gulf of Mexico didn't get poisoned. They just don't want us eating the fish. I will admit that perception is managed for those who can't do it themselves and I will admit that none of this matters, depending on who you are, based on what you've done, believe in and disseminate. It comes down to what you do every day. It comes down to what you have put your time into the acquisition of. It comes down to what is stacked up in your storehouse. What are you relying for your survival upon? What do you call survival? What do you believe survives and where does it's continuance occur? Is it a wheel? Is it a helix? Is it a one time entrance and departure? It is hardly the latter ...but those manipulating the timeless for the profit of the temporary, know what they are doing, in terms of modifying and constraining the parameters of human belief.

Fools ponder and acquire knowledge with the idea that some operating principle or medium of sustenance will be located there. Fools are self reliant, missing the point of self reliance. I'm all for self reliance, depending on what the self is relying on. For myself I have direct and continuing evidence of what is; certainly not with any degree of totality, for that is impossible, but certainly to the degree that there is no question that something benevolent directs our courses and ways, should we see it in it's benevolent aspect. It has any number of aspects, including knowledge, simply for demonstrating the limitations thereof. Any and every path, exists solely for the expression of it's result and the consideration of the territory through which it passes.

We are all on a particularly colored ray of travel. It manifested at the exit point of the prism and it returns the same way. What is right for one coloration, is not applicable to the others. Certain professions and philosophies, certain schematics of worship and inquiry, are relevant to particular colors. It is all a very scientific system with 'as above, so below hierarchies, ♫devil or angel♫, ♫Venus, goddess of love that you are, surely the things I ask, can't be that great a task♫, ♫Far away places with strange sounding names. Far away over the sea. Those far away places with the strange sounding names are calling, Calling me. Goin' to China or maybe Siam, I wanna see for myself♫, ♫but you need timing, a tick a tick a tick a timing, timing in the sea♫ Now what was that all about? Call it a digression. Digressions can be nice if you come back to the same place, given that you are headed in the right direction. It's not like any particular path always leads to the same place. It doesn't work like that. The journeys result is the result of 'intention', so is the texture and quality of the Karma which follows.

People should spend less time being concerned about why one thing makes sense 'to them' and similar things don't. Consider the ray; location, location, location. Trying to intellectually grasp the essential internal meaning of something, is like trying to use a left-handed skyhook. This is not the job of the surface mind. The surface mind is there to consider something and then to drop it through the hole into the subconscious. Then the subconscious formats it and activates the flashplayer (my internet flashplayer keeps crashing-grin) which will screen the meaning appropriate to the mind that requested it. This is one of the primary tenets of practical magic and an expression of a particular law of Nature, which all useful and effective tenets are. This is why you go to her, if you want to learn these kinds of things and there are locations where she is more disposed to reveal them. This too is dependent on intention. All of this, related to intention, has to do with, “seek ye first the kingdom of God”. This is all a no-brainer. Too bad so many people seem convinced they have to involve the brain in the process. The brain is pretty much useless, until swallowed by the heart. Well, useless in this area, devilishly effective in the manifest sense and has something to do with the proscription against worshiping idols. There's a technical aspect to this, equally as important as the 'jealous God' portion, of another suggested proscription. Herein you can get your prescription from a doctor employed by the original firm. Just remember to 'first do no harm', especially since, in this case, you are the patient.

Well, we've covered some ground. We'll leave you with a little reminder, given that we are talking about covering ground and a poem that many of you may never have read; something to ponder the meaning of;


The Heavy Bear Who Goes With Me

'the withness of the body' --Whitehead

The heavy bear who goes with me,
A manifold honey to smear his face,
Clumsy and lumbering here and there,
The central ton of every place,
The hungry beating brutish one
In love with candy, anger, and sleep,
Crazy factotum, dishevelling all,
Climbs the building, kicks the football,
Boxes his brother in the hate-ridden city.

Breathing at my side, that heavy animal,
That heavy bear who sleeps with me,
Howls in his sleep for a world of sugar,
A sweetness intimate as the water's clasp,
Howls in his sleep because the tight-rope
Trembles and shows the darkness beneath.
--The strutting show-off is terrified,
Dressed in his dress-suit, bulging his pants,
Trembles to think that his quivering meat
Must finally wince to nothing at all.

That inescapable animal walks with me,
Has followed me since the black womb held,
Moves where I move, distorting my gesture,
A caricature, a swollen shadow,
A stupid clown of the spirit's motive,
Perplexes and affronts with his own darkness,
The secret life of belly and bone,
Opaque, too near, my private, yet unknown,
Stretches to embrace the very dear
With whom I would walk without him near,
Touches her grossly, although a word
Would bare my heart and make me clear,
Stumbles, flounders, and strives to be fed
Dragging me with him in his mouthing care,
Amid the hundred million of his kind,
the scrimmage of appetite everywhere.


Delmore Schwartz


Ya'll be well until we meet again.

Love,


visible


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: ♫ Where You Are (unplugged) ♫
A studio version of 'Where You Are' is track no. 6 of 12 on Visible's 2007 album 'Color Ball'
Lyrics (pops up)


There will be a radio show this evening, downloadable tomorrow.

Changes and Journeys and Hare Krishna Murders.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be noses and always on your face,

Ah yes, changes and changes; appearances and sensations of change, rumors of change, rumors of war, rumors masquerading as truth in pursuit of war, the ultimate banker's sexual fantasy with blood as the lubricant and submission unto death for the perpetual bottom, humanity.

It is a time of lies and the redundancy of lies about Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen-amen, Sudan and Somalia, Egypt, Libya, Syria and the never ending genocide in Palestine; home of the original inhabitants at the non existent mercy of non native invaders, pretending to be the people they are exterminating; no rational, reasonable or in any manner of truth possible as anything else, ah, yes. Finally there is Iran in the gunsights of those who want that endless extent of plundered landscape.

It is a time of election manipulations with hardly an exception, except in countries not yet under the boot of those who have no more than a farce in respect of the democratic process. The heinous machine of Little Georgie Sorrows and the Zionist controlled Department of State, their minions and media, pathologically lying about the free elections in countries other than the US, where it is a humorless joke. Hypocrisy abounds and the hypocrites dance in shameless abandon, incapable of embarrassment, self reflection or concern, drunk on the illusion of power not their only, simply on loan and soon to be repossessed. The note has come due. The utilities will be shut off. They will learn the meaning of “turn your head and cough”, followed by the probing finger wave. God's own TSA will be manning the borders and doors; frightening four armed demons in their uniform suits, asking for documents and papers that cannot be found. The special internment camps will open. The bullhorns will sound and the lights will go off.

It has been a pleasure to walk across these times with you. We have been constant companions. Perhaps we have even been friends. Absence and disappearance may happen but the dynamic never ends. We've learned a great deal in this mutual exchange. We're part of each other and the resonance holds. It is stronger than all opposition. It cannot be controlled.

Now and then I watch the counter, I've seen two hundred and fifty readers at one time, from countries I never heard of before. They come in from Kosovo and Borneo, Sumatra and the Russian Federation. There's a man in Ulanbatur and a man in Mozambique ('ten thousand dead in The Congo, a friend of mine died in Peru and another man's in Mozambique, order me another Tequila sunrise, I gotta go take a leak'). Yes there's a reader in Mozambique. He caught a case of Bilharzia snails. I haven't heard from him in months. I hope he's okay.

It's a strange thing to see all those countries scroll by with people I'll never meet. Now and then someone drops by from Texas or Sweden. One on them lives not 9 kilometers from here and we corresponded for a couple of years until I saw the name of the town he lives in. We take walks in the woods and talk about the people we've read. He took me to a Bear Lacht cluster and I made a pesto from it that was so good, people keep wanting more. Several jars go off to the solstice party this weekend. I made a huge lasagna like casserole but I won't be eating any of it. The food there is remarkable. People bring so many things, all of them of gut schmeckt. Suddenly I'm not going. It's the highlight of my year. Why am I not going? I don't know why. All of the people I'm close to around here will be there. They won't understand this and I won't be dancing all night around that enormous bonfire, while the drums go on and on into the night. I'll just be here, as much as I am ever 'here'. Where is 'here'? Well, it won't be there.

The cars all loaded, thank goodness the driver is not. Soon the car will depart. There's always the chance someone will call and insist on coming to get me, even though it's a hundred K from here, or someone from somewhere will have yet to go and swing by. I don't expect it but I've left that option open. It's not fair to those I only see on this occasion for those long raps about so many things. My friend Roy from India will be there. We often sit at some tables in the shade. I have a few beers and we wax rhapsodic about all kinds of things. Roy is one of those people that is so wonderful to talk with. He's one of those well educated Indians and he tells me all kinds of things about India.

I've been mentioning India and how someone was going to invite me some where. I've talked about the Kumbh Mela and how I wasn't sure I would attend again. Then on the radio show I mentioned how I was going to get an invitation and it could mean my disappearing into the Himalayas or somewhere and the very next day, someone who had not heard the radio show, wrote to tell me that he wanted to buy me a couple of weeks in a yoga retreat in Arunachala along with a round-trip plane ticket and some indication of expenses covered, though I should have a certain measure of that. Of all the places I had wanted to go in India, Arunachala was at the top of the list with Rishikesh following and so that will happen as well, right there in the foothills of the Himalayas.

You've heard the story about how I came to be in Europe and was announcing it for a few months on stage at my gigs and then, whoomph, there I was and have been for 13 years almost. This happened the same way; odd about all that. Yesterday I had a long conversation with my primary invisible friend who told me all kinds of things about what might come to pass there, some of them pretty incredible but I've suspended all disbelief in the face of so much that was unbelievable before it happened and happened again.

I'm supposed to maybe go to Romania, the fellow who offered me a house there is going to stop by in about six weeks on his way there. I once had an astro-cartography reading done for me and Romania was right there on a major line, indicating a dreamy child-like state filled with all manner of supernatural possibility. Odd how that presented itself too and that is Transylvania. He says that wolves have followed him home of a night walking the one kilometer from the village to the house. There are bears there and all sorts of things. The Carpathian mountains are somewhere around. I think of Keanu Reeves, riding in that coach along that high windy road toward that castle. Yikes! I suppose I could go, I'm not afraid of things like that, not with all the garlic I eat (grin) and no one I've ever met eats as much garlic as I do. It's interesting, when I first started eating it; my friend Peter and I used to make a couple of slices of toast each morning, butter them and cover the whole surface of the bread with sliced garlic and then liberally sprinkle cayenne over it, popping it into the oven for a short time. What a way to start the day. Of course we would radiate it for ten feet around. People would notice and it was peculiar. Some people didn't mind at all and some minded a lot but the one's who minded were often vampires of a sort. Then something funny happened over the years, you couldn't smell it on me most of the time. Garlic is a blood purifier and you smell because the smell attends the poisons being pushed out of the skin and you really smell it when someone eats it with meat. I don't eat meat.

There's a two hundred page book called The Book of Garlic, that's how many things it does. Everyone should read it. It's very interesting. Then there's that force some of us have that's like an invisible crucifix and that thing about the devil being turned into an angel of light at the given moment and which scares the be-jesus out of fundies cause it implies all kinds of things they don't want to know about and why it's been reworked to such a degree in The Bible that it no longer even says that because the devil they are actually worshiping isn't too keen on them catching on. Well, there's a whole lot of mysterious shit going on in broad daylight behind a transparent curtain which turns real opaque when viewed through the necessary filter of ignorance that protects the viewer from undesirable illuminations and realizations that require massive adjustments that get in the way of all that bloodthirsty mayhem being carried on in the name of the one who isn't present and I guess you get the idea.

The thing is, no one is hiding from anyone. People are hiding whatever from themselves so as to be able to pursue the things they would have to stop engaging in, were they actually to see what they claim they are seeking after and claim to be serving. That would just mess up all that secret and, unfortunately not suppressed stuff that keeps breaking through the weakest link in the chain that's around their neck but manifesting in another geographic location; 'doing the old Sandusky as we like to call it around here.

I finished reading Monkey on a Stick again and thought, “Good grief, I'd forgotten what total psychopathic swine some of those guys were/are, like Kirtanananda, Hansadutta, Dharmatma, Drescher and all the other filth but... it makes sense to me, Kali Yuga, exactly what needed to act out, unfortunately for the poor girls, women and young boys affected by the mindblowing abuse along with the indifference of authorities and some of the incredible public demonstrations with guns and what not. Man! No question that was all grooved to go on until there was little doubt about any of it. I wonder where that Kirtananada is now. He belongs in a cell. Well, not my area of enforcement, is it.

See you at Smoking Mirrors in the next day or two.


End Transmission.......

Patrick Willis narrates:
Hare Krishna


Visible sings: ♫ Sing it Loud ♫
'Sing it Loud' is track no. 6 of 10 on Visible's eponymous 'Les Visible' Music Album
Lyrics (pops up)


There will be a radio show tonight at 7:30 Central see the radio blog accessed at the top of the page.

Kali Yuga, Poets and... I don't know.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

(thank god for Origami. I definitely need to be here right now-grin-)

I have to tape that Red Ice radio show today so I am getting this started while I wait for sleep to come.

If you really, really want something you get it. If you want it for the purity and beauty of what it is, it will take its clothes off in front of you. Real poets never get rich but the best expressions that Lady Nature can work her way into coming out for find their way into their beds. All real poets get tired of that early. They only want Lady truth to knock on their door and ask them if they are kind to strangers. Then she takes off her clothes and the world disappears.

It is a hard struggle in the aftermath because the world comes back again and truth puts her clothes back on. There isn't one of us to whom it happened that can remember what took place between the unveiling and recovering. People don't really read history, or if they do, their glasses fog up. Take the case of Richard Lovelace. I suspect almost no one here knows that story. Some of you might know his name and some of you might know that enduring poem he wrote. I'll put it here-

From Prison.
Song.
Set by Dr. John Wilson.

I
WHEN Love with unconfined wings
Hovers within my Gates ;
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at the Grates ;
When I lye tangled in her haire
And fettered to her eye ;
The Gods that wanton in the Aire,
Know no such Liberty.

II
When flowing Cups run swiftly round
With no allaying Thames,
Our carelesse heads with Roses bound,
Our hearts with Loyall Flames ;
When thirsty griefe in Wine we steepe,
When Healths and draughts go free,
Fishes that tipple in the Deepe,
Know no such Libertie.

III
When (like committed linnets) I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetnes, Mercy, Majesty,
And glories of my KING ;
When I shall voyce aloud, how Good
He is, how Great should be ;
Enlarged Winds that curle the Flood,
Know no such Liberty.

IV
Stone Walls do not a Prison make,
Nor Iron bars a Cage ;
Mindes innocent and quiet take
That for an Hermitage ;
If I have freedome in my Love,
And in my soule am free ;
Angels alone that sore above,
Injoy such Liberty.


Everyone has heard about Rumi but how many know about his life? Or Omar Khayyam, with whom I am singularly familiar in a very personal way. How many know that he went to school with the man who became the Grand Caliph and The Old Man of the Mountains, Hassan-i Sabbah, from whose name comes the word 'assassin'? How many know Hassan's story? That is very interesting; should you get the comprehensive version. The tales and wonders of the past should be sufficient to grant the intelligent inquisitor (inquisitor! The horror! The horror! Cue Marlon Brando or Joesph Conrad, I don't care) ample evidence for adequate faith to survive anything, yea, even prosper.

I don't particularly like Rumi's work. I never have. A friend of mine wrote a bestseller about him called The Illuminated Rumi. Well, he was a friend, like I said but I haven't seen him in decades. I know he must be a fantastic poet but it doesn't work on me. What the hell, we're in honesty mode... then there are poets I detest, like Alan Ginsberg, who I met on several occasions and the dislike was mutual. He hadn't ever met or even heard about me when a New York publisher brought me up to, or down to him, depending on your perspective... and the publisher said to Alan, “I'd like you to meet Les Crook, one of the finest poets I know...” and before the publisher could finish saying what he was saying, The Ginz said, “Don't waste my time, I already don't like him”. I was a little surprised though nonplussed but the publisher was astonished. He said, “I've never had that happen before”. Then he made me feel better as we walked away. He's gone now. Him and his loyal dog, Joe, who hung on for 18 years to be around him. He put his arm around me and kind of squeezed me up against him and said, “Don't worry about it. That's proof you must be pretty fucking good”. I still laugh sometimes when I think about it. It never came to anything but... it is Kali Yuga and I didn't come here to be a poet. That's just the train that brought me to this station.

Of course, there's Rod McKuen, the gay, cowboy poet, who tapped some junkie vein in the flabby arms of all those Staten Island Ferry, secretaries putting on their makeup in the big open air women's room on their way to the financial district. There's versions of that everywhere and they probably are the same girls who just love Barry Manilow. The obvious irony here does not need to be fleshed out. Rod McKuen made more money in one year than probably all of the truly great poets that preceded him; again, Kali Yuga.

Back to the positive, ♫accent the positive, eliminate the negative and don't mess with Mr. In between♫ Like I wasn't saying or will probably get around to. Life appears to be unfair; according to what? I happen to know that everyone getting fucked over now was doing the fucking over last time. Lots of people aren't comfortable with that. They don't get Karma and they don't get Kali Yuga. Well some do and some don't. I know there are various people who want access to things I have done, written or collaborated on, with Frater Patrick W. or others and can't find them, get them for free, purchase them; want that thing there and this thing here. Sometimes I can find them and sometimes not. On two separate occasions, two different hard drives failed and each time those were specifically where the music was kept; if music it be; Kali Yuga. I actually lost things that have yet to be discovered again. So, it isn't easy finding things if they are determined to disappear. There are old cassettes, do they work anymore? Miles of video wanderings through streets and seascapes, VCR relics in a box in the dark basement room below. I never got around to making them digital. They'll probably just wind up at the dump some day. There are early transmissions concerning the way to the kingdom but they may or may not be of use, given how many times I have lost my way again since; Kali Yuga.

I woke up this morning after several nights without sleep, more refreshed than I might have expected, since it took until four in the morning and a bottle of Campari to accomplish it. Four or so hours was apparently enough. Interestingly, this morning, Susanne says to me, as I have made my way down to the kitchen for tea, something along the lines of asking if I can feel it. It has something to do with the sky being higher and clear. Indeed the sun is shining after many a day of rain.

Before I came down, I went to the computer and noticed an email from this Kumbh Mela company that I had contacted last year, telling me about their rates and so on. It seems tent living among the many, is as pricey as the best hotels. I'm thinking do I really want to be around the largest spectacle of it's kind, when I don't like crowds in the first place? So I cyber-wander around Rishikesh and figure that if I do this thing, it will probably be more like this, with Arunachala and maybe the stations of Lord Ganesha as further ons in a kind of walkabout, while not actually heading in any of these directions, just passing through, moving light, cause it is the dark of the night; Kali Yuga.

So, just now, Susanne disappears. Someone is at the door, something to do with electricity, dogs are going off. I am reduced to cobbled together German, talking to only German speaking and I just take the guy to the downstairs apartment and hand him over to the lady who has been living there in recent times. I hear conversations through the window; nothing to do with me, the mother still sleeps in her bedroom and this part of the world goes on and not much of it has anything to do with me. Conditions are pleasant, except for the terrifically bad feng shui of this poorly designed monstrosity house, full of the possessions of the dead. There's something that just doesn't connect with much of anything around me here. It is like I was placed in a certain time zone, culture bucket, to do no more than what you have seen occur on these pages ...but it is evident to me that I will soon be gone somewhere, in a kind of 'no harm, no foul' way of amicable departures and bon voyage. To where?

Last week I had a bad event. I was mostly alone for a couple of days, except for the care of the mother and the dogs and it cycled all the way up to this morning, when it just kind of went away, being replaced by doorbells, landlines, cellphones going off and brisk comings and going of all kinds not having anything to do with me; world in transition, Kali Yuga. I was a devotee of Kali for awhile. Hindu posters of her abounded on my walls and I would see her in meadows and forests, the Shiva Shakti thing going off the hook. I'm not so focused on the black mother for some time. She has changed her relationship to me; more Saraswati now. All those gods and goddesses, all the same being, all very real, in whatever particular aspect he/she/it may present in. Some people have difficulty with all that. I have no problem with it. I could, at any time, be Christian, Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist... it's all the same God. It's a matter of taste. God presents in the form most accommodating to the needs and desires of those for whom God appears.

The cracking of the Chinese economy should prove interesting, given that they are the ones who came up with, “may you live in interesting times”. I couldn't even venture a guess. The divine has intentionally led me to predict things just so I could see them not happen. You will note that we are now about to go into that half of this year where a whole lot of those interesting things are going to happen. I get the strange suspicion that those who have put their reliance upon material culture and those who have flat out feasted and inhaled like reavers and siphons, are going to be the most disappointed. Those of us that never had much anyway might not even notice the difference, then again, it depends on whether you are one of those who never had much but still wish with all your might that you could get it. Those who got it might interest some in this intriguing slideshow. Sometimes bad things happen to rich people but more usually to their pets.

It's been a truly strange period for me but that's all about to change now. I have no idea of how, or why, or where. It's going to be one of those things that just appear out of the air, the way this one did and I knew that was coming, was even announcing it for some months beforehand. All in all, this segment has been better than the rest, mostly cause of the company and also the decency of the people in the area, however truculent and provincial they may be. I hear this next step is going to be much better, more suited to my needs than my having been suited up for everyone else's needs.

Once again, I'm saying these things, using my own life as an example, because I'm not The Lone Ranger here. Many of you will find the same thing coming around in this time of change and transition. It's for the best, however it may appear initially. Okay, time for Luke to get his mind right. “You got your mind right yet Luke”. You ain't gonna be backsliding now, are you”? No, I won't; speaking of getting my head into the frame for this Red Ice Radio show that I tape this early evening. Okay then, just keep on chopping that wood and carrying that water till we get to flow our of Shiva's hair and down to the Ganges.


End Transmission.......

The Improbable, the Impossible and the Inexplicable.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

(I started an Origami a couple of days ago but, for whatever my reasons were, I didn't complete it or put it up. We'll try a different approach today and probably be more successful..)

I don't know exactly how to put it; should I say there is a lot of bad energy swirling around? Is it that or just a lot of chaos and change that isn't entirely focused or directed? It has to be focused and directed from somewhere but I'm not in the loop with all of that. All I know is what I personally experience and what I hear about. It's a time of rough winds and rough waters. It's a time of confusion and great uncertainty. Those who are the bad guys, or masquerading as good guys, who are also bad guys and those who could be anything, since it's so hard to tell a lot of the time, have been at it and are at it all over the world. I don't want to give too much attention and commentary to them. They've been at it, in one form or another, for a very long time. It doesn't seem fruitful to me to keep bringing it up. I did notice this and further down the page you see a head-shot of The David Rocke himself, as a link to some other horrific thing he's engaged in. The point though... if a picture is worth a thousand words then this one qualifies as a guaranteed collective of invective and an offense against the sense employed to perceive it.

To me, it seems like the main concern that I have, maybe this applies to many others, is to not get dragged down into the darker realms, simply because of the intensity of the pressure. That's no easy task. It requires a discipline of both heart and mind that is not easy to maintain at the level of consistency that is required. You almost need some kind of robo-attribute that will operate independent of your occasionally flagging attention and determination.

The weather here has been reflecting the general mental and emotional climate that I am all too hyper-aware of. It's been gray and often rainy as well. Occasionally the sun comes out for part of a day or a few hours and then just goes back behind the clouds. It's like that now, though I hear tomorrow will be different. There's always tomorrow, isn't there? Until the day when there isn't.

I don't know what I thought was going to happen over the course of this last dreadful decade. I guess I mostly listened to all of those experts and seers that seemed so plugged in and had degrees for this or that and were important enough or persistent enough to get the space on one airwave or another, be it crass media or the, only less questionable, alternative mediums, be it text or voice or face-time. I sure did hear a lot of projections and opinions and none of them have really amounted to much. I'm guessing in their own minds they have had some success because these will be the things that they point to, in place of all the other things that were, more or less, off the wall.

I have finally arrived at the place where I don't believe anything I hear, unless it comes out of some several thousand year old tradition, that talks in a general way, about the calamities and misfortunes that descend on a world, that is far too interested in material culture and indifferent to spiritual things, unless they provide the freedom and justification to wallow in some version of material culture that agrees with temporally approved, scriptural guidelines.

The world of the moment, the ground and turf over which I walk, metaphorically speaking, might as well be made out of molasses. Then again, there is also a literal aspect to that and it doesn't all involve walking.

When you first start to encounter persistent opposition to your efforts, in any particular direction, there are a lot of explanations and excuses you can come up with. You don't want to be immediately paranoid or irrational. You want to make allowances for things you may not be aware of but which you are responsible for. You want to allow for the possibility that it has something to do with timing, or environment... maybe even your associates. Anything is possible in that regard. However, once you've been through the same thing from a great many angles and you still don't have any answers and it continues to be strange, weird and inexplicable and yet, doesn't apply to other things, which go right on happening, without anywhere near the effort or opposition, you kind of have to wonder about a few things. I'm a long time fan of Sherlock's comment, “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth”. I might have put it a little differently, like this, Once you eliminate the improbable, whatever remains, no matter how impossible, must be the truth. Still, it's all semantics. People often base life and death arguments on semantics. That's because a very great many people assume they have to be right and, of course, they are not. The only people with any hope of being right at some point are those who make no such assumption. That's what “I don't know” is all about.

Accepting that you don't know, profoundly and viscerally, doesn't mean you don't know anything and are a complete dullard and perpetually ignorant. It means you allow the mind that does know everything to know in your stead and you get the benefit of that. If you go on knowing, certain that you must know, despite the consistent evidence to the contrary, as you go, you'll find out a great many things you don't want to know and which you wish you hadn't had to find out. That is actually one of the main themes of life and you see it everywhere around you, every day, unless you're deeply engaged in it and the percentage of that in relation to the population, is determined by the age in which it is taking place. Some of these things are inflexibly so. You can argue about it and cry over it, rage about it or be indifferent to it but none of that changes it.

Some people early on want to change the world and most people just want something out of it for as long as that is possible and the more that 'they' take out of it, the more it takes out of them. The former find out they can't change the world. They might change some part of it for some period of time or they might find, as is often the case, that their efforts corrupted and compromised them. This is how you go from being a do gooder, to a social reformer, to a monster that kills millions of people. Of course you believe your own press as well.

Many things in life are simple to comprehend and easy to see when they are happening to others. It can be a great deal more difficult when it is happening to you. It can be easy to see the self interest and weakness in others but much more difficult to see in yourself, even when you know this. It's set up like that to make you dependent and reliant, to eventually force you to be and therein lies the triumph and the tragedy, depending on what, or who, you rely on.

Any fool could see that there is a divine being, who is intimately integrated in everything we do and everything that happens to us. What any fool cannot see (and which makes most fools doubt what should be self evident) and which often confounds the wise as well, is that they presume to understand how it works and what is expected of them if they really do want to get some idea about that.

There is no telling what kind of trials and torments you might get put through, no matter how sincere your intentions are, or how devoted you may be or think you are. Any kind of event might come. Any kind of situation might present itself. Any kind of passion or problem may rear its head in a true WTF? manner. That's how it can be, especially in times like these.

Some people think the Avatar has already arrived and some say the Avatar is here and some say the Avatar is coming and there are arguments that can be made for each of those positions of belief and circumstances, in which all three of them might be simultaneously true. That's the hard thing for most people to get their head around; the type of contradictions and conundrums that can and do exist. The thing is, as has been stated here a number of times when the Avatar comes, the Avatar precipitates down through the planes and comes with a broom. The Avatar sweeps out the negative entities on the inner planes. Some of them have been operating there for a long time. They are a major problem, along the lines of 'powers and principalities', as Wesley said; “For our wrestling is not only, not chiefly, against flesh and blood - Weak men, or fleshly appetites. But against principalities, against powers - The mighty princes of all the infernal legions. And great is their power, and that likewise of those legions whom they command. Against the rulers of the world - Perhaps these principalities and powers remain mostly in the citadel of their kingdom of darkness. But there are other evil spirits who range abroad, to whom the provinces of the world are committed. Of the darkness - This is chiefly spiritual darkness. Of this age - Which prevails during the present state of things. Against wicked spirits - Who continually oppose faith, love, holiness, either by force or fraud; and labour to infuse unbelief, pride, idolatry malice, envy, anger, hatred. In heavenly places - Which were once their abode, and which they still aspire to, as far as they are permitted”.

When they get swept off their thrones, there is nowhere for them to go except outward into the physical realm, where they inhabit the bodies of those willing to host them. This is for the purpose of judgment and all of it is for the purpose of demonstration. Some things to think about, as if we didn't have enough of that already.


End Transmission.......

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

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