Dancing in the Drip Fest of the Lords of the Stomach and the Groin.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there and just because you can doesn't mean it is.

Here we sit in the intermittent drip; the inclemency of a Chinese Water Torture of falling moments, in an agonizing redundancy of the unnecessary, endless plodding of time, beaten on an anvil and stretched beyond all lingering integrity of form and tensile capacity. It's some kind of limp, dead lamprey that continues to suck away vitality and hope like light sucked into a black hole. Zombies march up and down the sidewalks, into the malls and on to the food courts, ordering any one of hundreds of versions of crispy critter, dipping fingers, glazed with demon semen, spattering the Formica as it makes its way to each yawning and cavernous mouth.

There they sit, side by side, like Roman statues from some long ago polytheist display in a freaky frieze, columnar forest of marble, a postern into the past. The two great low gods of Materialism, rampant on a field of blood. The Lords of the Stomach and the Groin. Lesser deities are arrayed, in no particular symmetry of order, given the disorder of their collective impact on manifest life. There's Greed off to the side, with Parsimony and the handmaidens of self interest, dressed like whores in an after hours bank. They're caught in the frozen space of a timeless bacchanal. Their twisted and immobile limbs are entwined like Liana vines. Their faces show the evidence of their torment, in reaching for what cannot ever be found in the pursuit of so many little deaths, in search of the greater annihilation. Surely they will find it as they always do; remorseless and persistent in their search as any seeker after the light.

In the end, it will not be the sudden and sweeping catastrophes that later stir the memory of what was and no longer is. It will be the seemingly never ending drip of moments, falling and falling and falling. Why did it take so long? One is left with the thought that it could only be compassion and mercy, awaiting some epiphany of transfiguration in the heart and mind. Time is given for change, yet still the zombies march. Their ears are tuned to the bellowing horns of the mastodon god of the stomach and the lamia snakes of the groin. They say Lamia came from Libya but now... she lives in L.A.

Birth and death, reach across the darkness of the unknown like a handshake. It's not the pain of any one life that is the great tragedy. It is the persistent continuation of life after life after life, in a reckless grasping after the same disappointments that brought about each previous termination of being. Scripture tells us that the span of these lives can be counted in the millions. That great Buddha, the Amitabha, has reincarnated many, many times for the single purpose of manifesting a heaven where any sincere and devoted aspirant can achieve all of his or her remaining births in. How wonderful is that? Imagine the dedication required to turn the full attention of every life to the accomplishment of this singular goal.

Jesus Christ did this. He minted the passkeys into every area of his father's house, where there are so many mansions, of which he said, "If it were not true, I would not have told you so." Don't ask a fundie about what this means. The very idea is anathema to them. The thought that the kingdom of heaven might contain a space for every righteous faith, righteously practiced... the horror! The Horror!

I can hear the continuing drip, as gravity pulls the increments of time from the leaves of the trees that surround me. Not every pain is physical. This hurts as much as anything and is strong testimony that I do not understand. I don't get it anymore than I get being beaten and battered in recent times, when I was so sure that portion of my worldly suffering had passed. Sometimes one's suffering is not about notes come due, as much as it is about the addition of magnitudes to the final harvesting of the self. The ineffable likes to pile on. If you can pull one carriage, then why not two, or three? There is the appearance of something sadistic in the whole affair but we will, once again, chalk it up to my not understanding what is going on.

Certainly the message is not to seek after self improvement, not to rebuild your being or seek an even keel of discipline in daily application because you might be rendered unable to eat and... so it is. You might be rendered incapable of being capable of affording the necessary healing ministrations because that industry is only for the rich. I'm sorry I can't go into the details because they are as mind boggling as they are amusing. Of course, the amusing part requires you to be insane. Check!

The dripping goes on. The tormented free fall of the water, slowly plunges to the Earth. It is hard to see any movement. It all goes by so slow, like the ooze of snot from a corpse in January, lying somewhere in a cold and abandoned field. It will be spring before anyone finds him. It is like amber in flow and you got to ask yourself how that fly got in there.

The still life of existence as a desiccated cornichon would have been a more suitable subject for the impressionists, rather than women in long skirts and big hats by some lakeside. I suppose the attraction of the work of the impressionists has to do with the way the paintings mirror human memory, reducing the sharp outline of features into a blur; time lapse photography, acquired through a dirty lens. Maybe it's all that dust, all that dancing dust that somehow helps to make a rainbow with the endless drip in tandem to some end, so far unrevealed.

Peter Piper picked a pack of desiccated cornichons; screaming suppositories for those feckless gods of the moment. I could creatively suggest more appropriate suppositories but I suspect, as in every case previous, that it does not fall into my job description which, from what I can gather, has to do with experiencing the falling drip; shaking like a bass playing Parkinsonian here, Boss.

We've come all this distance in the posting, in between the drips, possibly in between only one drip and another. I look up at the trees and I see the thousands of drips that await, pendulous and heavy, they await the call of the Earth but Time has conspired with Gravity to go contrary to their own nature. Well... where's the surprise? Isn't most everything going contrary to its own nature these days? We are an amalgam of all the things that we don't throw away.

I told a lie the other day; something very much out of character for me and I have to wonder, is it because of the multitudinous drips awaiting? Is it because of the unbearable intervals and interims that are stacked up over some metaphorical La Guardia? Pushing tin here, Boss. We're playing at being an air traffic controller but we don't know the codes. All we know is enough to be able to yell, "Look out!" That's something though and preferable to silence, maintained in the hope that one might be able to pass by without having to get involved in the welfare of their fellows. Next thing you know, you've forgotten yourself and the whole idea of having to get anywhere at all. There's some kind of an answer there. I'll be leaving you now so as to study the matter more closely... drip... drip... drip...

End Transmission.......

Updates and Outtakes and WTF?

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

My friends... I cannot remember where we were last and I am not motivated to go and look at the moment so we will just funnel this out and start the posting cycle from Mirrors. I seem to have patchworked together the capability to do this. We shall see.

By some mysterious process, both my computers; desktop and laptop went down on the same day. Then I had a serious event that put me down and almost put me out. I won't be elaborating on that at the moment, mostly because it was a supernatural event and the details of such do not always translate well in the short term. Suffice to say that the world may continue to wobble on its uncertain axis of change, along unpredictable time lines but my own personal saga is certainly coming to term; one way or another.

One of the reasons I say “I don't know” is because it is an accurate statement and it has never been more clear to me that this is so than it has in the last couple of weeks. Believe me, I would love to go into the details here but they are too fantastic, even for me, at the moment.

I've been thinking that maybe this isn't my best option, living in the jungle with little human contact. I have no way of knowing why the invisible is both my best friend and my worst enemy. I've even been considering insanities as alternatives. My situation is always so razor thin and that allows for little in the way of catastrophe and the unexpected. But who am I to argue with my circumstances? I am where I was put for the reasons I am put there and seldom does any intelligence concerning the why and wherefore come across my desk; so to speak.

I'm not complaining. Even with this latest series of inexplicable events, I remain on an even keel. If pain is an educative force then I probably have a PHD. I spent the last four months working my way up to over 300 pushups on one day and 400 situps on the next, along with all kinds of other strength training techniques that attend these. Now I watch my efforts melt away due to an inability to perform but... I expect that to go back to what it was shortly. There is some sort of cosmic opposition to my having a consistent regimen of meditation and training. If I am not so engaged there is no opposition. What is one to make of that? It astounds me!

Alright... we've just been laying out a little background without much in the way of explanation but, in many cases with the readers here, I don't think I have to explain anything. You are experiencing similar things in your own lives, even if they manifest in very different ways. I apologize for your not hearing from me. From the many emails I have seen (only today) some of you have been either highly concerned or simply missing the output. I wasn't in any position to respond and if I don't get back to you soon, fear not, I'll get some kind of a computer system back on line in a few days.

I'm sorry for taking up so much of the posting in this disjointed and rambling fashion. The truth is that I don't know what to say. Not only have I experienced events that are mindblowing on both the temporal and the spiritual planes in these past days but they are an order of a different magnitude. One thing it tells me is that everything else must be getting close too. Portals are opening. Doors are closing. The new age descends and the old age departs and everyone of us is to be judged in our hearts.

What just happened to me is so out there and around the bend that I have to think something powerful is taking place. It certainly made a lasting impression on me.

Let's move on to something possibly more pedestrian. A couple of months ago some chickens started coming over to my place. I thought they might be hungry and as I had been having smoothies with plant protein, Moringa and Creatine every morning, I had these papaya innards and other fruit compost and I started giving it to them. Then a mother showed up with a bunch of young chicks. They are all grown up now but... at this time I have a couple of dozen small chicks running around and 8 or 10 larger ones including a rooster and a lot of them have now taken to roosting in the trees around my dwelling. Maybe this is no big deal but from what I hear it hasn't happened before and they ostensibly belong to someone else. Here they are though. I don't eat chicken and I don't want to be the Lord of the Chickens. Some of their behavior is pretty peculiar too.

Some women came around a couple of days ago and were asking me a lot of questions. I got the impression that they had some kind of secondary cause to doubt my sanity. We had a lovely talk and they asked if they could come round again. This time there were two different ones and the same thing happened with a lot of laughter. I couldn't get any clear fix on just what they were doing coming to see me but my impression is that now I won't see them again, at least not in whatever capacity I saw them in in the past

People that I have known in some virtual way, with perhaps a brief terrestrial engagement, have been telling me they are going to do a specific thing. In one case this involves several months of time and there is no result. I'm used to a certain amount of wack in my life but the present level of wack has sent the ink trail off into the ozone. I try to analyze this from all possible points. Is this a breaking up of the fabric of reality? Is this some kind of enemy action involving sophisticated and weaponized currents and beams of vibration, information and provocation? Is this the results of new perceptions brought about by personal changes? Are others experiencing similar things? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

What I know is that some very basic things and conditions are no longer what they were. Formerly, more or less, tightly wired interfaces, are becoming frayed at the margins.

I remember a story I heard a long time ago. It was so long ago that the details have become somewhat blurred but I remember the point well enough to proceed to make it. There was this magician who took a pupil and began to educate him in the principals of the art. Now and again he would demonstrate something and blow the students mind. Time passed and for one reason or another the day came when the master had gone off somewhere and the student was motivated to try out something he had learned. He went through the motions and... lo and behold, it worked! This blew his mind. He was on tenterhooks until the master returned at which point he went running up to him in an excited state and told the master what had happened. The master, bemused, looked at him in an arch fashion-,for all I know he raised an eyebrow and he said, “Son, if you are going to perform magic, you have to expect it to work.”

This is one of those stories, examples... where it is more analogy or indirectly related to something that may not be the obvious target of the example but I'm guessing it relates to things hinted at here. This is not to say that I have been in the business of the practice of magic because the only magic that interests me is the one where you do nothing and it all gets done through you. What I am trying to say is that if a person is relentless and forceful in any direction they are eventually going to make some amount of progress in movement in that direction, or gain some facility in whatever it is they have focused their time and attention on. What this means is that eventually conditions and events that are peculiar to... whatever... are going to start manifesting. This is going to happen in terms of your diet, whether you exercise or not, who you do and do not associate with, what you do and do not do, What you think about and what you say and... what you don't think about and what you don't say and all of this and a thousand others influences that all make up the enormous complexity of each of us and it accounts for our personal karma, destiny and fate, along with any other term you want to throw in there, all come out of this collective of personal minutiae and, of course, meaning is given according to the window of time it is demonstrating through.

What I am saying is... whether we understand it or not, whatever happens is supposed to happen, I guess ...and whatever happens, we played some part in bringing it about. Well... let's see what's around the corner. Time passing after all.

End Transmission.......

The Departments of Fantasy and Aberrant Fiction

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

The truth is at right angles to everything else.

Some things should be obvious. Some of these obvious things demand public action, given what the intention of these obvious things are. Since at least the turning of the calendar into 2000 and counting, there has been a steady erosion of human rights, not just in the Dis-United States but internationally. Of course, it's been going on longer than that but it hasn't been so obvious.

Political correctness is all about the promotion and celebration of mediocrity. It is also about mainstreaming tiny demographics, as if they were mainstream and giving them so much press that they appear to be just that, when they are not. You know that you have entered the cultural badlands when banks and corporations control the governments, the press and the entertainment industries. When that happens, all policy is geared toward systematic control, at every level of society, for the profit of those implementing the controls. Because they are thieves and monsters, there is no parity at any level. Because they are thieves and monsters, they know that fascism and a dictatorship, over the hearts and minds of the public, through fear and false information, is critical. Otherwise they would not be allowed to continue as they have.

If you look at everything in a material sense, according to the laws of the material sphere, insofar as we know what they are, or understand them, it looks grim. It looks grim due to the intention that is afoot and made exponentially grimmer due to the general reaction looking uncannily like over cooked spaghetti. It really looks like these people shipped in from cosmic central casting, precisely for this effect; a cast of millions!!!!

If you look at everything in a spiritual sense, according to the laws of the spiritual spheres, insofar as we know what they are and understand them, it is no longer grim. It becomes instead like a timeless, rainbow hued waterfall that pours the impetus of eternal change into the boiling cauldron of foam and mist so far below where the manifest occurs. Because of the constrictions of time, we do not see the far reach of it all. We just see the circumstances and conditions that lead to it... up the way.

The consideration is time and appearances. Time is the barrel, or the continuum if you wish and appearances are the kaleidoscope created in the lens. The colors are generated by the planetary influences as they are empowered, according to the will of the ineffable, through the stationary intents of the archetypes in a particular period of performance. These remain as they are during their time of tenure but... when the age of their operation changes, the nature and kind of their influence changes because the whole of existence is for the purpose of demonstration. All that demonstration is a series of teaching moments and some learn and some don't and so it repeats on and on and on. Every aspect of what happens is all about awakening; awake sleeper!

We have mentioned the stationary intents of the seemingly fixed archetypes, expressed in all the features of manifest existence. They are the spiritual infrastructure that materializes around us in the manifest infrastructure. Because the weight of time increases based on the density of material being (physical or consciousness wise... like the passage of time in a prison as opposed to a day at the beach), it can seem that change is slow and therefore that which orchestrates it is also. Sometimes that is the case but it is not the case in an apocalypse, as we can see in these moments we are passing through. It is still a blind because it can seem that nothing is changing still, especially when we are not changing. Things are changing though and the in your face awareness of it comes at specific times, seemingly out of nowhere but it was there all along. Certain genuine psychics, of which there are very few, see these things ahead of time and other prescient types from prophets to idiot savants see them as well.

Like they say, even a broken clock tells the correct time twice a day. What that means is that the guy in the trench-coat with the big sign that says, 'repent! The end is near.' is also going to be right one of these days.

Truth is a truly elusive thing because one's ability to see or comprehend the truth, is directly relevant to the amount of truth resident in the one perceiving it; not to mention that like attracts like. Here we come upon one of the most profound magics of the mind. It shows you want you want to see. Magicians from three card monte scammers and 'find the pea' players, to grand illusionists... know how to work misdirection and certainly many another con artist knows about this sort of thing, from the short con to the long con. It's a little like that old saw about how you can't cheat an honest man. You also can't entrap someone into an illusion who is not, in some way, attracted to the existence of it.

They say if you look into the sun for too long you will go blind. I imagine that there's some truth to that and there is also a way of understanding it apart from having to look into the physical sun. There is a sun that resides in the human heart and which is covered by degrees of darkness, depending on the heart. If you look directly into that sun, it will burn the world of form from your eyes. It will activate the same sun in your mind... or... perhaps it will enter a state of quietude and bring on a full moon that will forever reflect the light of the sun in the heart. After all... the mind is a mirror.

It's hard not to be filled with contempt for those who are so relentlessly engaged in the corruptions of our time and who manipulate the false doctrines of political correctness for the confusion and enslavement of their fellows. In some cases, they know very well what they are doing and that makes them dark indeed. In many another case they are driven by particular forms of hysteria and acquisitiveness. Other pathologies apply as well. It's not my job to delineate the specifics of any of it. My job is to become free of it. After that, I'm sure I will get further marching orders. I am of the opinion that one should not aspire to exist, or perform, or present themselves as something above or beyond their actual capacity, or what they are deserving of. I believe that one should fight against these opportunities if they are not a true expression of what is real. Surely one can aspire to what is beyond one's abilities. The time may well come when one has achieved that status. What I mean... is to pretend to be what you are not, to accept titles and ranks of which you are unworthy. It goes without saying that it is even worse to accept such titles and positions and then to use them to the detriment of others, or for nothing more than crass personal gain at the expense of others.

In this world of the moment, it is considered okay to screw over other people, as long as it conforms to certain guidelines... or you got enough money to make any problems go away... or you know the right people... or any of the states of being that conform to one being entitled at a particular level above the constraints of ordinary justice which... itself doesn't exist all that much any more. Everything is breaking down. The governments are no longer governments; they are strong arm gangs of be-suited thugs. The various major faiths are splintered into hundreds of departures from the forgotten original, or non existent in the lives of the majority. Everything that was is crumbling, even as it reaches for the skies in absurd parodies of the Tower of Babel. The more out of wack everything gets, the more the predator monkeys are oblivious to what should be the obvious warnings of the times. When all you can see is what you are after, it becomes harder and harder to see what is after you.

Despite the premonitory admonitions of all of the great art and literature of the past and the statements of avatars and teachers, the world continues on its course and those swept up in the glitter and glamour of it continue as well. It is as if this is what is real, when it is most definitely not real and what is real is relegated to The Department of Fantasy and Aberrant Fiction; the land of outcasts and those considered mad, due to a lack of conformity with the general scheme of things. You have to know your place and when you don't, you are a threat to the system. Most people accept this. It gets brought to their attention and so does the alternative. Peer pressure and the terrifying uncertainty of the howling unknown takes care of the directions taken by most people.

I can't make up anyone's mind for them. I can make up my own.

End Transmission.......

Sunday's radio show is now up in virtual space.