A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Public Service Announcement


14 April 2014

Visible is moving home April 15th 2014.

At the same time, all his blogs - including this one, will be relocating, too; this means that soon this page will disappear - as will all other pages on Vis' sites. The move (the blogs' move that is, not lord Visible's) is expected to take somewhere between 3 and 8 Earth days so should complete some time between 18 and 25 April 2014.

The blogs will remain accessible however, on their old blogspot.com URLS, and here is where you are going to find them - so please bookmark the following links!


Reflections in a Petri Dish
Smoking Mirrors
Visible Origami


Please also be aware that although all the existing blogs' content will remain accessible, many image links and other bits and pieces may look a bit tatty for the duration of the move (not that anyone visits Vis blogs for pretty pictures anyway, but it's just polite to let you know)



Thank you for bearing with us during the move!



Visible Blogs


Sunday, April 29, 2012

Find that Sage in the New Age Bin.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Perhaps a little more strolling down memory lane, with the usual digressions, allusions and references, which is the reason for the post in the first place, not just a need to travel in private spaces, or get self-indulgent in some astral, woodland pool of nostalgia. We're always looking for resonance and simpatico here, if it doesn't resonate with the reader and provoke memory that mysteriously links to the appearance of things long forgotten, then, what good is it (grin)? Seriously.

There are all sorts of strange things coming out these days. Joni Mitchell says he is a plagiarist and I see from the search that it involves paintings as well and there are many references to his stealing from Jack London and others for his books. I had long ago heard about some information concerning his not having written “Blowing in the Wind” (a non-informative article, embarrassingly apologetic and even making Bob 10 years younger than he is) and “Don’t think Twice”. There's a lot of smoke there. There must be some fire. The idea that Dylan could have accidentally, just osmosis like, inhaled these tunes out of the atmosphere is pathetic. I'm not judging him, cause I don't know. I'm just pointing it out cause it came up in my windshield today and it relates to the activity of Mr. Apocalypse. I've never had this problem of draining a suspect lizard out of the ethers. Perhaps we have entered the time of crashing icons, breaking like cheap china, on the unfinished flooring of this new age. I do come up with the occasional cheap and metaphorically tinkered lines here and there but... good grief! I'm busy (grin).

I miss Maui and working with my former collaborators, Bud the Birdman and Franklin Russell, named on our albums as Bud the Creep and Franklin Stratosphere or Franky Blue Stratos. Franklin was so named for being something of an airhead and Bud; “Why do they call you Bud the Creep”? “You'll find out”. No matter how bad things got for me on Maui and... they got horrifically bad sometimes. (I was between Woodstock and Maui during the darkest period of my life), if you don’t count my childhood; no matter how bad it got, there was always the soothing presence of the ocean. I would sit on the seawall in Kihei in those troubled times and such a sense of peace would come to me, though there was little enduring peace. By day there was the maintenance of the efforts to create or earn my daily bread and by night, the efforts to create or spar with the locals in some beach-side park. I reflect on how totally crazy I must have been to do things like that and can't fathom it, or how I managed to emerge unscathed, given how badly mauled you could get from unexpected and unfortunate encounters, much less, looking for trouble. Bud and Franklin were around for a lot of that. Bud was a fairly accomplished martial artist and, although nuts in his own way, not the same kind of madman as me.

Now and then, people come out of the woodwork, mostly due to Facebook. Sometimes I remember them and sometimes I don't. I travelled between a haze and a blur on occasion and there were always people coming and going, or peripherally connected to whatever weird creation we would get up to. Some of them went on to become spiritual teachers and some of them just went on and some of them go on and on and on, accompanied by titles and relative degrees of self-importance, all of them, unique peas in a pod, speculating on who is the pea soup and who are the chunks of carrot. You can scroll down and see all their vast credentials and justifications for why they are gurus, but not really gurus, just regular folks, reflecting back to you what is hidden within for whatever the fee is. They are on some kind of a circuit where they go from place to place to get together, with an assorted group of characters who do whatever it is that they do and not do, somewhere between one hand clapping and one hand with the clap. There is a seemingly endless list of books, an endless list of audio CDs with dozens and dozens of Dr. Wayne Dyer. Of course there are DVDs, with another several dozen from Dr. Dyer. There are 83 different card sets for divination and ritual self-abuse. I don’t doubt that our vomitus superficialitus doctor is there represented too. And... how could we possibly advance without kits? Yes, there are 63 kits and the good doctor is represented in multiples again, as should be expected. Somebody is getting rich. You too can become a spiritual teacher, nearly overnight for only 4,000 dollars and you get impressive documents of achievement that you can frame and put up on your wall.

I don't think I'm welcome somehow. Perhaps I am too cynical. I don't have my own set of cards and kits. This is the kind of thing you become when you have the whole package and a lot of degrees. Of course, if you really want to go for it, you become part of a husband and wife team that channels schizophrenic entities going by the name of Abraham but there's some number of them. You become so successful that you publish over 700 books at the beginning of the bio and then you have 800 at the end of the bio. Now that, that is impressive and includes mobile phone apps. Somewhere near you, this year, is any number of events and boat cruises. If you're a trust fund baby, a lost soul with no road map, an ambitious huckster with no moral compass, or just a garden variety psychopath, you need to know where to get your instruction manual. Then you can become any one of a number (or all of them) of permutations of 'coach'. Coach this, coach that; past life coach, future life coach, Karma coach, the types are vast and all of them cost money. Of course there are money coaches too and they also cost money.

When I was on Maui, I ran across all sorts of people in the new age dens of Makawao, Kula and Kipahulu. Kipahulu, past Hana, is infested with trust fund beneficiaries, who preen and posture in their own little fiefdoms. I met one lady from Australia who had inherited 30 million dollars.; She liked to walk around topless, dressed like an incarnation of Ishtar, when dressed at all. She had a lot of cute boys around her and owned a slice of paradise high on rocky cliffs. She was a mean customer that you had to negotiate around. The scammer scene in the new age trust fund moneyverse is something else; those who live off of them and give them fealty and admiration, for the fortunes of their birth, sans anything of value. I wasn't ever invited much because of my enterprising efforts at defacing their posters at the number one posting zone, where I was employed as the Deli Lama. I got around to making my own posters and there would be a host of people coming around each morning to see what new outrage I had gotten up to; Les Visible channels Ted Turner from the Haleakala crater, or one imaginary talent after another, where I claimed to be able to do this or that. The community was not amused, so... there went the invites (grin).

I'd run across Elan Vitale here and there. He inherited some humungous amount of money from his parents and made himself into an artist who could rent commercial properties for tens of thousands a month. I'm not dissing him, just strolling down memory lane. He put an enormous, near full size, metal whale up in one of the Kamole parks. I see now where he is divinely inspired, or so it says on the web site. Here's a mean customer who also made his millions. I was close with his brother for a while through association with the same woman named Kim. She disappeared into New Zealand and I never heard from her again. I often performed at Piero's Cafe. These days, Piero is also a very successful artist. He's got quite an impressive spread way past even Kipahulu in Kaupo.

I realize I can pepper this treatise with all sorts of names, famous and not so but I'm coming to the end of this particular ride. I don't know what my point was... maybe just bringing things up and seeing what gets said about them. Here's a memorial page. There are some shots of Poppy. He was the one that was going to get my song to Willie Nelson but he died a few days before Willie got back to the island.

I think about Maui a lot. It used to dominate my thoughts when I wasn't there and was in Woodstock or somewhere. Since I came to Europe it's receded. I remember all the good things about it and tend to forget all the problems and dangers of the place. The mind journeys on imagination's ship. It remembers what it wants to remember and forgets what it wants to forget, or thinks it does.

Life comes in stages and certain things automatically arrive in each stage, whether you are ready for them or not. You think you got here or there by choices, or accident and maybe it's something of both but different things come at different times and we should never try to convince ourselves that we haven't gotten everything we wanted. You never know what's around the corner and the best you can do is to prepare yourself rather than trying to troubleshoot around corners you can't see around.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: The Sacred and The Profane by Les Visible♫ Listening to God in the Morning ♫
'Listening to God in the Morning' is track no. 13 of 13 on Visible's 2007 album
'The Sacred and The Profane'

Lyrics (pops up)

The Sacred and The Profane by Les Visible

There will be a radio show this evening.

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.

Friday, April 20, 2012

A Thick and Toxic, Restless Soup.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

540,000,000 dum dum bullets and thousands of bullet proof control booths for The Department of Homeland Insecurity of the Zionist, Anti-Gentile Empire. This agency operates within the borders of the United States. You don't need a PHD in WTF to figure out what's going on, at least in broad general terms. Here is what we can speculate. The government knows much more than we do about all kinds of things and much less than we do about the important things; or else it doesn't care. Given that the government knows more than us, it is quite likely that they are informed about, some or several, pending events. When these events occur, they will create widespread panic, according to relative analysis. That's one scenario. The government has to protect itself 'and the privileged' because that is who they work for. One should have 'no illusions' about this. That which they are aware of may be of several possibilities; one is Fukushima, the other is natural disasters of some kind, which they are able to predict with a level of accuracy that motivates them to prepare for what results. A wilder possibility is alien invasion. I throw that in because there is no way of telling why they need 540,000,000 rounds of ammunition and all those control booths.

The other scenario is that the government, as a result of all the think tanks, agencies and pressure from certain quarters... is going to manifest this world changing disaster and are getting in place to follow through on problem, reaction, solution. As we know, they are old hands at this with the Oklahoma bombing, the Zionist engineered 9/11 and sundry events at other locales. They provided the shoe bomber and the underwear bomber, in order to implement the present persona of that monster, the TSA. There is no question that heavy and oppressive fascism is in the works and barring divine interference or some alternative measure, such as collective mass reaction; some form of spontaneous combustion, America is burned toast.

I don't personally care what label you give these thugs. Obviously they are all Satanists, wittingly or unwittingly, by definition of action alone. It is the movement and progression of the anti life, which not only seeks to destroy the harmony and quality of all life other than their own but... takes a singular enjoyment from carrying it out. They do evil for the sheer joy of it. You've heard the words of Henry Kissinger, David Rockefeller, George Bush Sr. and various other miscreants concerning what they've been up to and how they feel about it. One thing should be uppermost in every mind capable of it, besides the awareness of who, or what, you rely on and that is that this is Kali Yuga. This is the period where a great deal of laundry gets done. That's basically what you are looking at; laundry.

The people who showed up as bad guys were those most disposed toward this behavior, prior to arrival. Those of us engaged on the other end are also acting according to what we were disposed to. The greater mass that is unconscious or sleeping, is here because of the opportunity for awakening as well as a quantum leap of consciousness. Think about it. Think about the things you can see happening and the fact that there are seven billion people here at the moment, give or take the miniscule comings and goings. This is because of the opportunities that exist. It doesn't matter that so many have forgotten this on arrival. That's what the force of awakening is all about. If you can awaken, the options will be revealed to you, the course will appear. It's like way stations of consciousness. They're all connected and in some way they resemble bus kiosks, which provide the buses itinerary to all points outward, as well as temporary shelter and a time for reflection before your bus arrives. When you are consciously participating in your awakening, it is similar to walking on one of those moving floors they have at airports. Those engaged in evil are in similar circumstances. They are participating in their own destruction on a similar treadmill. The unfortunate aspect of Kali Yuga is that prevailing collective consciousness distorts what's real. Things appear other than what they are. The collective emotional climate and the collective mental climate, exert a powerful influence upon individual consciousness. Also, we don't see the positive changes being made interiorly. I often liken it to driving on a slight grade, on your way up a mountain, but prior to the actual period of obvious ascent. You might look in the rear view mirror at some point, or you might pull over and get out of the car and then you can see the landscape far below, along with the thin and twisting white line of distant surf. You didn't think you were going up all that much. You didn't think you had ascended to that degree. It's gradual but constant. Eventually you make some serious progress on your way up. Few people persist all the way up the mountain. You pass through towns and communities until there are no more. You may still see a few scattered houses but then it's just a road through the forest. After awhile there are no more trees even, just rocks and earth and snow. At a certain point it might seem like you are very much on your own.

The world at this time is a thick and restless soup. It's toxic and flammable as well. In 1800, only 3% of the people lived in cities, now over 50% of the population lives in cities. Hive mentality prevails and perversion runs riot because it is promoted for profit and control. It also directs the individual into areas of being that serve the interests of the Satanists who create and promote it.

Free will is a funny thing. Understanding it is the problem, really. It's not what it's been publicized as; the right to act autonomously in all circumstances. That implies that there is no overriding authority. How is it that one can exercise free will in any case, given prior conditioning of whatever kind? We don't know what we don't know, so presumptions take the place of verifiable info and people act as if it were that, instead of a projection of belief brought into being by the press of their appetites. What free will is, is the right to act in your own best interests or to go contrary to them. I suppose you'd have to know what that is first but you don't need to know that in order to understand that it is so. The sun comes up and the sun goes down every day and it isn't affected by what you are doing. In fact, the sun doesn't rise or set to begin with, the Earth rotates, but that's beside the point.

Representatives of the angels dancing on a pin contingent, like to state that there's no proof the Earth rotates but there is quite a group of self fancied iconoclasts whose only interest in anything is the arguments it provides. They could often care less about what it or is not so. Caring to know what is so and being amenable to having it revealed is most of the battle to begin with. Getting your attention is a very big part of the battle and it being a battle in the first place has everything to do with not being amenable to revelation and caring about what is so.

Times of apocalypse are times of judgment and summing up. It is critical for the individual to keep this in mind. Otherwise you get seduced into believing in the power of the malefactors, visiting so much distress on the populace. You come to think everything is out of control. It weakens your resolve and opens the door to despairing and the other forces that attend it. You see a lot of that going around, along with rigid denial, isolation by distraction and obsession and 'me first' behavior, accompanied by the personal survival impetus. A lot of people are 'prepping' to survive, without doing the most important thing that should be on every list and which might even preclude that sort of behavior, or modify it.

My experience, through observation, is of a lot of troubled people, as well as people who aren't paying attention, don't want to know, or are totally engrossed in whatever they are involved in. Irrespective of appearances, everything is under control for the purpose of demonstration and that is what one has to adjust to. The proper frame of mind begins with the awareness of the proper pursuit of human consciousness. Without this in mind, one may very likely devolve into a beast for the purpose of demonstration.

If you've been here before, you've heard all of this before. You've got your game plan operating or you don't. You've got a focus or you don't. You're arguing or you can't be bothered. Having to argue is a sure sign that one has missed the point. Personally, it is of no great concern to me what medium others employ. If they work, fine. It not then one will find that out.

...All that can be said for the moment. The show is about to begin.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: Rocks in the Stream by Les Visible♫ Rocks in the Stream ♫

Monday, April 16, 2012

A Ruminating Perspective on an Unknown Theme.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

I got to the end of an Origami last night, or nearly and... now I'm not going to post it. I'm going to start over. I wanted to talk about a matter that I haven't publicly discussed. I guess I was concerned about people having only one side of the story; concerned about vastly inflated commentary and... felt like it might be cathartic. I believe it was provoked by what now appears to be an act of reverse serendipity, which is also laden with irony, given that the player is someone I was formerly associated with in variously coincidental ways. Something happened and then, several days later, something else happened and it seemed like a slam dunk; my conclusion that is. Now I'm given to believe that I was wrong in my assumption. It's perplexing. There's a little anecdotal tale about Alistair Crowley. The author who wrote his biography, John Symonds I believe, painted a small portrait of him. I'm paraphrasing. He said, “there sat Crowley, his magic wand gathering dust on a shelf, he said, “I'm perplexed””. I'm perplexed (grin).

I've seen a few of these things lately, with all sorts of corroborative evidence, as if some force in the universe wants me to buy into something that isn't true. About 20 or more years ago, I was with my girlfriend, Svargo. It was the most passionate relationship of my life, outside of God. Quite often it didn't seem outside of God (grin). It wasn't meant to be, though it did go on for some time. It's a complicated tale. I am in possession of a great many complicated tales that deal with my life. Quite a few of them I do not understand. Some of them I understand later on but I can't do anything about them, which, often enough, turns out to be the point.

Anyway... one day I was at Svargo's house. We were having a discussion and wound up in a disagreement about something. I was absolutely convinced that I was right. I didn't push it. I said, “we'll see”. Later on I checked and found out I was wrong. It stunned me. I'd rarely been so certain about something and found out I was wrong. Amazingly, this happened two more times. All the events took place in a six week period and never happened again. Of course, I've been wrong about things since but not in the same way. This sequence changed me. I've never been absolutely certain of anything again, besides the existence of god that is. Well, of course, I'm certain of a few things but whenever someone tells me I'm mistaken about something, I check. That's happened here at the blogs more than once.

I mentioned all of these details because they play into this most recent scenario and I have to consider these things, whereas long ago I wouldn't have. Now I'm wondering if this isn't some kind of new lesson for me. The opportunity for over-reaction and operating from false premises is great. I've had various experiences recently that tell me I am not alone in this regard and in some cases, the players don't have the benefit of what once happened to me.

Among those who have spent any length of time around me, I'm noted for certain things; being discreet, reflexively honest and a few other things, some of them negative (grin). I'm also pretty consistent in my relationship with mind and personality altering substances. I'm in far better shape than many might guess, given what they imagine about me and bizarre, as opposed to supernatural events, are few and far between. Oddly, both of the scenarios I am referring to involved this very thing, though the item was different and both of them are associated with projects of mine. The personnel in both instances have a jaundiced and negative impression about me. Ironically, those close to me, people who have been around me for extended periods of time, do not have the same view across the board. In both cases projections and wrong assumptions abounded. It was like something scripted out of Left Field Productions. In both cases there were supernatural events which occurred. They often do.

I'm talking about all of this because of the resonance factor and also hoping that any number of informed astrologers that come around might chime in. These are spooky times. They've been more or less difficult for me since before Christmas. I don't often think about it, for some reason, but there are a lot of presumptions going around, concerning what's taking place on God's drawing board. What does the cosmic draftsman have planned? Which way are things going to go. I call the ideas coming from so many diverse camps 'presumptions'. This does not mean to imply that they are wrong, simply that they are unsubstantiated. A lot is based on the Mayan calendar. Some portions are based on other prophecies or channelings. Some are derived from an analysis of current events. Some are the result of numbers. Conclusions vary widely and many things that were predicted have not happened, when they were predicted to happen, though they may happen yet.

It is a very odd period of time. There is the sensation of events and changes held in suspension. It seems to be an unnatural suspension. Of all the great dramatic transformations spoken of, nothing truly serious and world changing has occurred. Things come to the brink and then they step back. It's becoming uncanny. Sabers have been rattling for so long they've become a soundtrack along with the voices of the talking heads on every side, who are pretty much all, uniformly proven wrong, Politicians and those who feed off of them, as well as all kinds of publicly prominent individuals, by vice of wealth, position, some kind of talent, shameless self promotion, with no justifiable reason, physical beauty and sundry, are all behaving like speed addicted baboons, drunken vaudeville clowns, wide boy jerks and, in all cases, a mockery on their human state. It is so very much for the purpose of demonstration. So...

A logical mind might suppose that the stage is getting set for a judgment upon the performances. I can see the possibility of that. I observe the press into outrage and absurdity. I see the overstepping and over reaching that only amplified hubris of a high order can generate. I see profligacy and indifference to all moral order. They are bankrupt of charity and compassion, bereft of restraint and sane acumen in respect of economic good and all else that affects the common lives, with so much greater intensity than the lives of those responsible for the condition. They are truly insane and without regard for their own souls and lives. They think themselves careful men and women. They think themselves pragmatic and wise but they are reckless fools, dancing on the precipice in the falling of the age. They are doomed and drowning sailors, with no understanding of the sea. The knots they tie are their own bindings. The sails they raise offend the winds. The sealing caulk melts from the fire of ambition, blindfolded by ignorance of cause and effect. They are dead forms walking who haven't seen it yet.

It may seem peculiar or difficult to define, the connection between the disparate parts of this polemic. The tendency toward madness and uninformed presumption attends us all. In an age of unreason, few of us are sane. Sanity has left the building. Many maintain the pretense with electronic minders that keep the mind contained within certain focuses. Many maintain a consistency by making themselves prisoners of low passion and dark addictions. Many escape in brief and redundant interludes, escaping nothing but their attention to the primary task at hand. There is a primary task. It is something that is laughed at and disparaged by the clever and quick, who in truth are double thick, with minds like a McDonald's milkshake and hearts composed of carnal dreams that only promise uneasy sleep and nightmare in the wings. The dreams of beauty, liberty and love are the property of the truly broken hearted, where the doors are torn asunder from their hinges and cannot be closed again.

I used to always want to fix things, as if the one who broke them in the first place was competent to the task. Now I leave everything in the hands of the expert, who made everything real and enduring and made me as well. There is no need for me to fix anything, except my heart and mind upon the presence of its author. There is no need for me to plan or prepare for anything, lest I upset the plans and preparations already in progress. This is a hard one to absorb, to take into understanding at a visceral level. The mind plots without our even engaging it. It is a natural feature of this mysterious thing to be engaged independently of the one who presumes to control it. No one actually ever brings it under control on their own. They might learn to suspend it for a time or teach it to perform all manner of fascinating tricks but true stillness is only accomplished by the one who brought it into being in the first place. What to do, what to do, what not to do.

Maybe I'm wrong about a lot of these things, or a few. They make perfect sense in the Bhakti form. I'm no expert on anything. I've proven that. It seems that I must be reduced to utter helplessness before I can come into utter reliance, before I can even be trusted with simple things. These are not only words, be they curds or turds. One morning I suspect we shall all awaken and find the world very much changed and ourselves as well, for better or for worse.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: The Walls by Les Visible♫ The Walls ♫

Yesterday's radio show is available for download.

Friday, April 06, 2012

Hammers and Nails and Avatars, Oh My.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

This is one of those cardinal days having to do with the Sun King. This is the death and resurrection sector, just as the date on the other end has to do with the birth aspect. Personally, I have no problem with the virgin birth, or any of the miracles or mysteries of that faith. I take exception to the perversion of the scriptures, at the hands of those manipulating the believers, for the purpose of conquest, plunder, land theft and the use of the twisted scriptures, to justify the abuse and theft and put a divine imprimatur on all kinds of crime because God said it was okay. Like the song says, “Onward Christian dumbasses, marching off to war, with the sign of Satan, going on before”. Or, that's how it should be sung. Fundies and traditionalists might and will take exception with my use of the language and all sorts of ancillary complaints but, none of this is about Jesus Christ. This is about the pernicious plague of Zionism, that manipulates the Shmoo's to join up with the Teletubbies and other factions for the purpose of mayhem and malice.

Those actually following the master, can expect all manner of contempt and smear tactics; shunning and pariah status, cause it goes with the territory, God forbid you should really behave according to the principles laid down, especially when there's money to be made by those “zoomin who”. It's a solitary road. It's a narrow path. It's a lonely highway; accent on 'high'. It's about liberation and revelation and that runs counter and contrary to the plots and plans of the big ass, mucky mucks who are running their own version of a Smithfield meat packing plant.

It's about the difference between confinement and true freedom and there is nothing more dangerous to the interests of the demagogues and sanctimonious predators than someone in possession of true freedom, because it is contagious like a brush fire in the wind. This particular dynamic, concerning confinement and true freedom demands a deeper exploration. If you've ever been to a zoo, you may have seen some of the examples I am going to present to you. Maybe you have seen monkeys throwing their shit at the public, as it makes fun of the monkeys, without realizing that they behave exactly the same in a different fashion. If you go over to the elephant enclosure, the elephant will come to the bars and stick his trunk through the bars for peanuts. If you don't have any, he will blow elephant snot all over you. Animals behave a certain way when they are in confinement. People are the same.

Confinement is hard to recognize when you own a home (or used to) and have a job (or used to) and tend to 'believe you can come and go' as you like. Confinement likes to hide in the underbrush, or camouflage itself as something other than what it is. There are all kinds of confinements. Let's take sexual confinement for instance. The sexual dynamic, in ordinary traditional Christianity, is perverted and evil; subsequently it becomes perverted and evil, as it has in the Catholic Church. The actual translation for sin is, 'missing the mark'. As opposed to the lyrics in the song Allison, your aim is not true. Well, repressed sexuality leads to rage. It's bottled anger and just the thing for war, not to mention seething resentment toward one's neighbors. When the plumbing gets messed with, the pipe will burst at the weakest link, sort of, or it will flow in a direction other than it might naturally go. Plumbing, in its professional application, will send the water, or whatever, in the direction it is channeled.

The Essenes and the Gnostics had a yoga. Yoga is basically plumbing too. You run the currents, or 'our water' through channels to get a desired effect. I'm not literally specific about “our water” here but that's because I picked up on the process, in the process of discussing it here, at a later stage than where it starts out at. This whole paragraph will be Greek to most people, as opposed to Aramaic (grin) but that's how it goes. When you can mess up people's plumbing then you can channel the pressure that builds in any direction you like. The public is a body just like your body is a body and collective force is channeled all kinds of ways, depending on how the bankers, politicians and priests want it to be channeled, depending on how much money is in it. All of these people, most of the time, work for Satan. Satan's chosen are the same as they ever was and the natural and enduring enemy of anything having to do with essential Jesus Christ.

In a time of pervasive materialism, confinement is the order of the day. The senses are bound by sense objects and 'strange lusts' are everywhere to be seen. Once it gets totally out of hand, and it always does, one avatar or another has to step in and restore balance. They're all Sun Kings. The 'my way or the highway' people who misinterpret the meaning of that scriptural passage, “no man cometh unto the father save by me”, will tell you there was only ever one avatar, same today and for all of eternity and it you don't like it, look out. Sure, it's all the same avatar, given that those who arrive at that station have been transformed into a likeness. What a lot of people don't get is that Jesus was a man and Christ is a station. One is a person and the other is a state, or place, if you prefer. The thing is that the other conflicting religions all have that 'my way or the highway' thing too and they're all right.

A sage mind looks at this world and sees that it is a world of conflict and of appearances, warring against each other, so the logical result is that they crucify their saviors. That's how it works and they all fancy a little pink slime, pork surprise, on those days when they celebrate the things they would be glad to do all over again, if you just give them the chance. Some people would find such an existence pointless and meaningless; a fiery redundancy on a flaming wheel of grilled hamsters. It's not pointless. The point is to graduate out of it. It is a place of conflict, where those who choose to make peace with themselves can accomplish it, albeit with a degree of difficulty, given the squirrely and rampaging, temporarily tumescent, Shmoos and Teletubbies that make the effort so interesting.

Sure, I could use more prosaic and flowery language on such a colorful subject and I have done so and I've done it more than once and repeated myself in the bargain, because if it was so at another time, it's still so now, or, conversely, if I was wrong then, then I'm still wrong now, but I prefer blunter language on occasion, because the times are blunter, with not very many sharp knives in the drawer. The cooling and illuminating waters of the divine are drawn up out of the wellspring of Nature.

Whatever we have morphed and grafted the incomprehensible into or on to, is just our frustrating and futile efforts to give picture and voice to something that can't be contained or defined in either medium. It's always beyond our grasp and reason doesn't enter into it, though it might take you a ways. Generally in times of material darkness, reason is used to dispute, what should be self evident, in terms of its existence; accent on self.

Many people will spend the day hammering the avatar back up on a cross, in one way or another. They'll keep doing to the least of them what they do to the rest of them. They'll continue to fail to love their brother as themselves and certainly they won't be loving the creator with all their heart and mind because that requires a submission that can be pretty scary, though they have no problem submitting themselves to the people and forces who really will mess them over in a big way at every opportunity.

We get people coming around here who have finally succumbed to their cynicism and who want no part of whatever gets said here but they need to keep returning because there's a chance that they might be able to kill someone else's faith, due to the misery loves company modality. Others whine about not being shown the way out and how it's all a bunch of words, when they've been shown multiples of ways out for a long time, but aren't interested in that route because somehow they know better, while admitting they have no idea and wouldn't be asking if they did know; would they? Certain things make people brutal and mean. Confinement does that, especially when you don't think you're confined and don't understand how all your freedom as license has confined you.

There are a whole lot of people whose cynicism and disbelief has grown to ridiculous states and where the only enjoyment they are able to experience anymore, is when they can mess with someone because the wrong thing crawled up inside them and died. In the process they evicted all their good friends who made life worth living. We all have invisible friends but if you treat them indifferently or wrong, they're going to be distant invisible friends. We all have the opportunity and capacity for regenerated innocence, as opposed to senility but we make the choice to harden our arteries at the same time that we harden our hearts. It's not so hard to forget who you are, along with everything you thought you knew, when you never bothered to look for yourself in the first place. Then when what's on the surface begins to fade away there's nothing underneath it.

One's life is the sum total of the qualities, insights and experience acquired. You don't take anything with you but what you have become. That's the good news and the bad news. It's all happening right this moment and most people are too busy to take it seriously but it takes them seriously, oh yes it does. The key phrase here is, “where there's life there's hope”. The problem for most people is that they can't see the hourglass. The divine is the life within us. There would be no life otherwise, just as there would be no life on this planet without the sun and I guess that says something about The Sun King. Happy Easter, where it may apply.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: Walk Through The Fire Or Burn by Les Visible♫ Walk Through The Fire Or Burn ♫
Lyrics (pops up)

Tuesday, April 03, 2012

Thomas Aquinas, Sigmund Freud, Rheumatoid Arthritis Syndrome.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

(If you are one of the people who has sent me emails in the last few days and haven't gotten an answer, it is because about ten times the usual volume has shown up and time constraints have made it difficult to respond as yet. I will).

Well, well, here we are at Origami again; folding spindling and mutilating the pristine, into content and form. Paper airplanes are a form of Origami, so we can imagine them flying about in mental space. That's where this whole scenario takes place, except when it dips below that radar and shows up on the emotional plane radar. Materialists will tell you it all take place in your head anyway and scientists like to tell us that the mind is the seat of the emotions. I tend to think that that is where the particular product of the moment gets registered and labeled but... it isn't felt there. However, most people can never grasp that they are seeing everything inside their heads and that the way it's all put together just makes it look like it's out there. This is just one of the examples that tells us that inner control and the control of one's self is the key to the control of everything that seems external to us. The Strength card gives a good pictorial idea of how this is accomplished. Of course you need what The Chariot indicates first; 'triumph in the mind'.

One of the things that amuses me is when I get an email from someone who wants to let me know that they're only on the same page with me now and then, or wants to let me know that I'm only partially informed about something (as if I have ever indicated otherwise) and then proceeds to tell me in exhausting detail how it really is, without countering or refuting anything I said in the first place; sometimes no mention is even made of anything I said about anything, just that I'm wrong and here's how it really is. I generally don't get through it all because at a certain point all I see are a lot of terms flying around with nowhere to land and without landing gear in the first place.

Anyone who has all the answers is wrong, especially anyone who is absolutely certain and even more so when they try to engage complex language that has the same comparative effect on my digestive system as overcooked linguine. I've waxed complex on occasion but I generally like things as simple as possible. I remember a long time ago, when I had all the makings of a professional pseudo-intellectual and had read too many western writers; I remember how grateful I was when it all got reduced to a very simple construct. Of course, there were and are complexities to be had. There always will be but one's personal state in relation to them should not be. Most of these things, like the systems in our body or the intricate technical workings of complex machinery, go about their business without needing us on the inside, micromanaging everything like one of those control freaks that all of us run into these days. If you don't run into that, you run into the earbud addicts who are terrified that the real world will intrude on them. The same thing goes on with people who eat too much or get too hooked on anything where it becomes the foundation of their lifestyle and everything else has to accommodate to it.

One of the things I frequently notice about people is how completely meditation would clear up all of the problems they think they have. This is another one of those things that happens automatically. You don't need to mess with the details or play with the levers. You simply move through stages of consciousness and the stages of consciousness adjust every factor in your existence, automatically as you go. Many people think that meditation is something you do. It's actually something that gets done while you're there. Sure, there are a lot of practices that fall under this heading and they differ from each other in respect of contents and practice but I'm talking about simple meditation, with a single focus combined with essential willingness. I'm not going to get into a descriptive or definitive thing about it. I just mention it in passing and like anything else, it's something you can figure out on your own. If you know how to pray, you know how to meditate, more or less. There's no single right or wrong way. We're different from each other in terms of what is most effective for us individually. We're on different rays. We're headed to different heavens and different hells and different transitionary locations. We live different lives, with different attractions and different lessons, even if we all go through the same things and are all one. That's a catchall that involves a massive and incomprehensible stretch of time and circumstance.

People, well, some people anyway, presume that they have a soul and they may well possess one. I'm not sure that everyone has one. Everyone here is not human, however they may appear to be. The soul is alone. It communicates with the divine. I don't know about the concept of soul mates. Generally, I tend to believe that there is some truth to most everything, just as I believe that not all of it is relevant to me. I know we get a lot of resonance here and simpatico seems to simply drip down the walls but that is a matter of like attracting like. There is a wide body of otherwise out there, with entirely different game plans. That shouldn't be a matter of concern. Every ray contains everything needed for anyone on that ray and all rays eventually go back through the prism into the white light where difference and disparity end. That is not to say that you are not still individualized. There is an inexplicable and indefinable mystery that attends this. Unique and individual, is an essential part of the whole program but not in the way most people might tend to view it.

One of the key assets to be acquired by anyone on their passage 'through' here is to be able to recognize who you have affinity and business with and who you don't. Some people are meant to be bypassed entirely. We don't have to be understood and accepted by everyone and we never will be. Even the gods have their differences and vive la difference because that is also essential to everything. God loves drama; I'm speaking of The One here; of course they all do and the key to that is to understand what drama actually indicates. Think of it as the playing out of events and characters according to a plot that is adapted and updated in every moment. I'm using drama in the comprehensive sense, not in terms of the specificity it is often used in. God in apartness is the consummate voyeur. Of course, the divine is seeking us at all times, in his cosmic game of hide and seek. He's yearning for the opportunity to wake up inside of any of us. That last sentence has to be understood in it's esoteric meaning. I am sure many people can take me to task over the use of any and every word in that sentence but that's just semantics. The problem of semantics is something I try to take into consideration with everything I read and hear. It's a question of whether you actually want to understand what someone is saying, or whether you want to argue with them; the latter is the case, far too often around this planet.

We live in combative and contentious times. We've got an extremely large collection of experts and dilettantes who are often both. Pontificating has reached the same epidemic level as texting. I've never texted anyone, nor would I go anywhere near Twitter, or even read anything said there. I'm not suggesting that everyone ever engaged in either of these is aberrant or wrong, I'm just saying it's not for me. My messages build up at Facebook. I seldom check them. It's accidental really. It just doesn't occur to me. I don't do PM's and I try to keep Skype closed. I seldom use the phone. I have a cellphone I bought for my trip and it has yet to get a sim card. I don't go to restaurants or night clubs. I don't talk to people very often and none of this has anything to do with much, except to say that that is where my life has taken me. I'm really bringing all of this up because I think it's important for people to realize that, quite possibly, the majority of what is going on in this world may have nothing valuable to do with you.

People live with unnecessary concerns. They obsess about why they can't get along with certain people. They guilt trip themselves about things that happened. They scheme and plot for the acquisition of items, fatal to their health and well being. They go around in fear of the unknown and confusion about the known. They desperately want things to make sense and often they do not. You may never get an explanation for a lot of things. People desire things that trap them, thinking some measure of security will come out of them. They want meaning, without realizing that so many of the things they have and want are responsible for their inability to find meaning. They're afraid to admit to themselves that most of what is forced down their throats, by politically correct agents of the infernal throne, aren't okay, in their extreme presentation, and never have been. People go in horror of taking unpopular stands. Well, the truth is, you don't have to take a stand about anything. You just have to recognize what common sense should tell you and you can keep your peace about any and all of it; should you choose to. There's no real point to playing Don Quixote, unless the cosmos wants to demonstrate something through you and there's no telling what that might be. It might be flat out positive.

We don't have to get along with everyone else. We only have to get along with ourselves. If we can do that the rest of it will sort itself out. Most people don't know why they're here and know even less about why everyone else is here. Most disease and death is the result of stress. The rest can be chalked up to bad judgment and a couple of other things. Stress and fear are a tandem. People want to feel important and needed. They want to feel valued, yet they don't take the trouble to make the acquaintance of the one who confers all of this in the best possible way. “Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and all of these things will be added unto you”. That covers every surface, no matter how exhaustive, byzantine and complex it may appear or be presented as; no matter how semantically convoluted it comes across. You can ignore the entire Thomas Aquinas, Sigmund Freud, Rheumatoid Arthritis Syndrome and just head on to Peaceful Valley or Cold Mountain, without all those angels dancing on the head of a pin; just my two cents for what it's worth.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: Songwriter by Les Visible♫ Rocket Ship ♫
'Rocket Ship' is track no. 7 of 10 on Visible's 2006 album 'Songwriter'
Lyrics (pops up)

Songwriter by Les Visible


Sunday's radio show is now available for download.