The Pekingese Personality and the Kingdom of Time.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Earlier this morning I saw a link to an article from The Rebel.org titled, “Forget the B.S. Stories about Snowden”. It was on What Really Happened. It said that all the questions about Snowden were garbage and it gave kinda, sorta, plausible explanations for what we would have had questions about, concerning Snowden. It further stated that his first name wasn't even Edward, it was Eric. It wouldn't load and now it loads so... maybe you see it and maybe you don't. These are strange days and... getting stranger.

This is also Origami, so... maybe we don't need to talk about any of that because... some permutation or another of this sort of thing is ALWAYS going on. You get your head stuck into the world's business and it's not much different than having your head stuck up your ass. It looks the same. It smells the same and both places are easily as dark. Both places are easily as toxic and, depending on your diet, both places can be hard and painful to get out of, which infers that the process can be time consuming as well.

The easiest way to come to terms with the world, is not to come to terms with it at all. The world doesn't play fair. If you don't comprehend that at this point, you will at a later date. It's that dancing with the devil thing. In the beginning, it doesn't seem to be any problem to keep up with the pace of the music. Later on it gets harder and harder to keep up. Why is that? Did the music get faster, incrementally over time, or did you get slower? Possibly the mire you were dancing in, got deeper and thicker. That's a given characteristic of the dynamic and it doesn't change. The scenery changes. The personnel changes, or seems to and... that's another feature of the whole routine; “it's the same thing only different”. It's kind of how 'the good old days' got to be 'the good old days'. For those who were standing there at the same age and place you are now standing in, those were not 'the good old days'. The good old days for them were back about the same distance as they are for you now.

This is something that happens in life to most everyone. The time comes when you spend more time looking back than looking ahead. You want to stay forever young? Don't look back. You're not going to see anything the way it was anyway. You're going to see things filtered through selective memory, adapted to the needs of the personal self. We vividly remember events that took place, with people who no longer remember us. Somewhere there are people remembering us and we have no idea who they are or were anymore. Many of us vividly remember things that didn't even happen. They're all part of the myth we created, about where we've been and what we've done.

The bar-stools of the world are filled with people telling tales about themselves, selling themselves through tall tales, because they don't feel valuable or important enough, based on the actual truth about themselves. Why does this happen and why is it a concern? After all, in a world of lies, lies are the currency of the world; that sentence is fraught with deep meaning (grin). If people knew who they were, they would have no need to lie, because no lie, no matter how outrageous or spectacular, comes close to what is latent within us. We are potentially so much more than we can even guess at. This is what makes the whole thing so tragically ironic. We sell out to the lowest bidder. We trade off what is priceless for what is worthless. This is the demonstrated evidence of collective insanity, in a mutual conspiracy, of socially accepted ignorance and silence; but you wouldn't notice, with all of them chattering like magpies. The silence is only the silence bestowed upon the forbidden subjects, ♫Rock the boat, don't rock the boat, baby♫. I know this up close and personal because of the shunning mechanism among my peer group; euphemistically speaking.

This is what it's like, living in the age of enlightenment, where so many have supplanted the primary well, with a personal septic system; the glorification of the Pekingese Personality, above the originating principle. The operative protocol, is to not make any mention of the ineffable, because it makes you look weak and unnecessarily dependent, on something that others can't see or taste or touch. This kind of thing makes all the (self) important people uncomfortable and... when you are not part of any organized system of belief, none of them are going to get all warm and fuzzy about you either.

Point of order; two selfs receive mention here. One is singular and one is 'legion'.

Truth is not sitting in at the weekly poker game. Truth is playing solitaire. Truth doesn't care because it's not going anywhere. Everything else is going somewhere in the Kingdom of Time. Everything else goes somewhere for awhile and then somewhere else after. Everything else and everyone else, is in a state of near endless migration, from one port of call to another, morphing from shape into shape, reincarnating with the requisite adjustments in consciousness, having to do with that particular shape. The Truth experiences nothing of this. The Truth just waits and of course it puts off a glow, in the unlikely event that someone is disposed to show an interest in it. This doesn't happen very often and most of the time if it does happen, it doesn't last very long, for reasons as old as the hills that life takes place in the shadow of. I don't think I need to go into it again. It's all been said before.

The truth is immortal and most everything else is temporary. The truth is self contained and sustained by the self and it gazes inward upon its own reality, indifferent to the storms and changes that come and go around it. It is not dependent on anything outside of itself. It is, like love, far far more than can ever be said about it and regardless of the degree of one's experiences of either, the endless depths and reaches of the two, have never been fully explored, or experienced by anyone and never will be, not ever. There is an unspeakable beauty to this and for those who have had some small taste of it, there is nothing else that can ever satisfy them again.

People don't come up to you and stick a wad of folded bills in your pocket because you told the truth. They don't ask you to speak at ceremonial dinners, or those charitable front, social clubs, if they think you're going to tell the truth. You do not get put on any payroll, anywhere, for the purpose of telling the truth. You do however, get paid big money to lie and even bigger money to stretch the truth, in such a way that it resembles the truth, enough to pass for the truth, according to the 'close enough for rock and roll' principle. The greater one's ability to shave the truth, the greater one's ability to lie in a convincing manner and to make credible the production and availability of useless items, as something no intelligent person can live without, the greater the paycheck.

No doubt there are many who will argue with my assessment here, primarily because their very existence depends on believing completely in what they do. As has ever been the case and ever will be, you have to lie to yourself first and the real reason for that is that their lives do not really depend on what they have convinced themselves must be so, not at all.

Lies are addictive. Lifestyles are addictive. Things and states and conditions, of which you were once unaware of the existence of, are now things, states and conditions that you cannot live without. Truth is also addictive. Once it's gotten into your bloodstream, you aren't going to be satisfied with anything else. It doesn't matter what you have to go through to obtain it. It doesn't matter what you get put through in order to hold on to it. You can't live without it, anymore than your opposite number can live without the lies that sustain their existence as hungry ghosts. Everyone thinks they are right, except the one who doesn't know. The one who doesn't know can be informed. The one who knows can't be told anything, except what they want to believe. Many an industry and profession, make a very good profit and a very good living from this, from telling people what they want to hear, sort of like, “I'm okay, you're okay”. That's bullshit. It may be true in specific instances ...but it's not true across the board and that is what the phrase intends to mean. Whole areas of psychology, exist only to convince people that no matter what; who and what they think they are and what they do is perfectly okay. Complex arguments are created, history and science are bent beyond recognition and thick books, written by reputed scholars, manufacture all the necessary minutiae, to justify whatever needs justifying, until something else replaces it, as the hot button, better funded item ...and then it doesn't matter if the same scholars and experts completely contradict themselves, in the following adjustment and... they won't see anything wrong with that either. They'll have an answer for that. They got an answer for everything.

There's this guy, I just read an article by him on one of the sites that hosts my postings. It seems like everything he writes, is tailored toward self promotion. I can't remember how many times his whole article is devoted only to calling attention to one critic or another, who says something bad about his book and then he proceeds to refute them, or imagine he has. In his latest posting, he refers to his book as my new(est) book, even though it's been out for two years or more. He's supposed to be highly intelligent. Does he not see how juvenile, insecure and totally self involved he looks? No, he does not. It's none of my business what he does but, like everything else, I see what I see, or do I?

I'll admit that it rankles me, the degree of success so many others have, all the while knowing that it's my own fault really. I know how to play the game. I know how to behave in company and, like the District Attorney said about me, “He's an actor”, so I can play the role. I've played any number of roles for the purpose of personal amusement. The truth of the whole of it, is whether or not I believe the truth of a higher result and whether I actually know that success on someone else's terms, is not really success. Success that has to be maintained by constantly jockeying for position ...and directed efforts to keep yourself in the public eye, isn't the same as success that comes at a nod from the invisible. If it doesn't come like that, it will cost you, count on it. As one of my favorite yogis was fond of saying, “It ain't over till it's over”. For many, it is over long before it ends. That same yogi also said, “It's like deja vu all over again. I leave you with an entertaining read; no question there was more to this fellow than many might have given him credit for.


End Transmission.......

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