Dog Poet Transmitting.......
May your noses always be cold and wet.
I never like writing about these kinds of things but since they have some kind of meaning and since they affect everything that goes on around here, one supposes they are relevant. These last three years have been some of the roughest for me ever. In terms of actual experience, they pale by comparison with some of the shit I've been through ...but in terms of relentless bad fortune, in steady incremental doses and malefic astral assaults, they are right up there. Now the last week has been some of the worst on record. This means that every single thing I attempt goes haywire on me. I'm not going to itemize because I would fill the page with outrages and annoyances. The early portion of my birthday was a season in Hell and then, when evening came, my beloved dog Poncho started getting seizures. They come around every couple of month or so. This time there were four or five of them and then, later the next day a couple of more. Finally, last night, while he was sitting under my desk, I noticed he was trembling and shaking. Usually he's on his side, kicking at air and squealing. This time he was in a Sphinx pose and just trembling. He appeared paralyzed and he was not in this world. When I tried to draw close, he would lash at me with his teeth. I was absolutely certain after several hours that this was the end for him and it continued to go on and on.
I finally went to bed and Susanne slept by him in my computer room. The next morning, today, I came awake and heard something around me. There was Poncho, unsteady on his feet, bobbing and weaving and it's gone on like that, with steady improvements, to this point ...but the way things have been going for me, I'm not sanguine. Of course he's worn out; sleeping at the moment. I'm in a state of ongoing apprehension. There's nothing I can do and my intuitive tactics are futile and my prayers? I hardly know what to say. What I do know is that his present condition is nothing short of a miracle. You'd have had to be there and I'm glad you weren't. He was all twisted and shaking for hours. Now he's more or less what is normal for him. I'm guessing he has a brain tumor. The symptoms are all indicative. I'm of a mind to start feeding him curcumin and turmeric but... if it were malignant, I suspect he would have been gone already. Therefore, if it is benign then these remedies are probably not going to work.
I'm studying the things that are happening to me, apart from Poncho and I am baffled at both the extremity and the necessity. Then I think about Job being put through the shit and all the rest of the people I've heard about that got put through the shit and I think to myself, “Yeah, but there was a time limit on most of that wasn't there? It didn't go on for decade after decade with little respite”. Of course, with some of them, there was brutal and persistent torture that went on over the short term and some of them got burned at the stake, which doesn't strike me as pleasant but which didn't involve a lot of time. Though the time that it did involve must have seriously concentrated their minds. Of course we hear about the enraptured, who did not experience pain during the event and there is some metaphysical basis for this.
I want to make it clear that I'm not whining here. I wouldn't even mention it, if it weren't so severe and inexplicable. An astrologer told me it had something to do with Uranus and Pluto and that the universe is trying to tell me something but it never gets around to that and that is one of the problems with the whole process all the way through. There have never been any answers , no names, no clarification, no nothing. There have been visions and supernatural experiences that were off the charts. There have been sustained hyper realities and there are the voices, which have increased in clarity and frequency over recent time but there are no details, no why and wherefores, just encouragement and all kinds of promises of things to come, soon ...but apparently we have two different kinds of time in operation. There's the indication of new locations that are not reached by the usual conveyances. There's all sorts of things being said and the generic sturm und drang coming for the terminal shit-heels, which I have heard about in thunderous tones, with a lot of bouncing off of the walls on my part, from the sheer fury of emphasis in the delivery. Never has one been put through so much while being told so little. Of course, I'm speculating here. I can readily assume that people have been put through more but I feel like they probably had more detailed cue cards and a fleshed out backstory.
I've never been told anything. I can suss out the meaning of the Kundalini awakening and the long term guarantees on that. The Man on the Beach said, “You're a celebrity here, you know”? No, I didn't know and I still don't. That's about the sum total of detailed information and not much to go on.
I recognize that anyone performing some small amount of service, like myself, is going to come under attack and appear in the cross-hairs, some portion of the time and I recognize that the offensives are often going to be internalized outbreaks, telepathic invasions and invisible fugazy work, directed at physical conditions. The intensity has been off the charts. I find myself no longer able to appeal for help, or to rail with outrage against deaf heaven. I just keep saying, “Nothing, nothing, nothing” This is meant to negate anything and everything, so as to reduce the playing field to an empty lot and deprive all experience of any meaning. It works as a defense against despair, even if it seems very much like it.
One of the reasons that I got such a, never before seen, outpouring of support on my birthday, is that someone knew what was coming; not the people industriously engaged on my behalf but certainly whatever inspired them.
I know I've been the cause of a certain amount of optimism around these parts, on those small islands where I am not considered a flake or a madman. I don't want to create any kind of damper on that. I don't want to give voice to any number of internal states that think enough is enough. Obviously, it's not enough or it wouldn't keep happening. It's the lack of explanation that leaves me in a quandary. As I said, I'm not crying in my soup, not really. I've had some temporary versions of that come in and out of the room in times past but since, I have long ago recognized the futility of it. I'm just trying to articulate the syndrome, though I doubt that the forces behind it all spend much time reading any of these things and, you would think, they know all about my mental and emotional state. This kind of thing is never a good thing, given the expectations of the reader. The radio show will deliver on that account, I think (grin). I just want you to know what I'm up against, as I seek to continue here and why I might drop out of sight at any moment for some period of time, while I try to get a fix on the situation and the possibility of tactics I have yet to discover or explore.
These blogs are a lot of things. They may sometimes contain useful information and hopefully other times they are entertaining and bring a smile. As well, they are sometimes like a laundry line, both here and in the comments section. Doing your laundry is never an exciting affair. Some people get off on doing other people's laundry and some people get off even more having access to other people's laundry before it gets washed but that's not an attractive area of pursuit for me and hopefully it reflects only the smallest minority of the readers here.
Most people who come here are well wishers and that accounts for the success of the place. There's a natural bonhomie here and a resonant sympatico. The reason I am discussing any of this is because I am certain that I am not the Lone Ranger here and that usually when something comes up in these locations they tend to reflect some segment of the lives of the people who come around.
So, I've gotten through this post and Poncho is still laying on the blanket under my desk with no apparent change. That's a very good thing, as far as I am concerned, because there are few things as emotionally trying as being helpless to assist your four footed friends in their hour of need. You feel as if, were it to do any good, you would consider stabbing a knife into the back of your hand to make it all better.
The last few hours, all together, have been much better than most of the times in the last few days. I'm talking uncanny, eerie and strange all together. Everyone expects a few incidents in the process of their day; little accidents, mishaps, errors of judgments, missteps in one's personal behavior. These things happen. What you don't expect are 60 to a 100 of these things in the course of a single day. It smacks of supernatural interference of the non benefic kind.
Ah well, you probably didn't want this to be part of your day and I didn't either but I've got little choice about it. The rules of my operation here are strict in terms of full disclosure and the state of my existence, directly influences the things I say and talk about here.
Oddly, when I wake up each morning, it takes a few moments for me to remember the shit I was going through the day before. I wake up with my usual optimism and then it hits me that I've scant reason to feel that way but I do feel that way and that puzzles me more than anything else. Why do I feel such a degree of optimism with no reason for it? My dreams are nice and I've been enjoying them. I'm hoping that side of things translates into this side of things posthaste. Thank you for your patience in this matter. One thing we can always be sure of is that things change.
'Prevail' is track no. 6 of 11 on Visible's 2001 album 'God in Country'
Lyrics (pops up)
There will be a radio show at some point this weekend.