Dog Poet Transmitting.......
May your noses always be hoses for the crack cocaine of the unspeakable love of the cosmos; “You might as well face it, you're addicted to Love”. So... why not rub your own nose in it? Don't make me have to come down there (grin).
Sometimes, in the morning, I sit on my bed and put both feet into my jeans at the same time. I do this to prove to myself that I do not have to put my pants on one leg at a time, like everyone else. Of course, in all the ways that count, I love and am part of the common man, I just haven't lost my sense of humor, or my boundless ambition. Ambition is fine, depending on what it is based on and directed toward.
Powerful things are going on, we’re just not seeing all of them as they happen. I realize this is a very long article but well worth the reading. A lot of things come after us in this life and... how we deal with them and what we become as a result, makes all the difference; the latter depending on the former. I've had a hard road to get to wherever here is. If you look at it in terms of events, then it's pretty bad but not as bad as many lives (count your blessings). If you look at it in terms of internal struggles and the actual experiences, then it worsens significantly. However, I have to echo what Lou Gehrig said. I'll bet some of you already know what that is and have had similar thoughts to mine.
The biggest pain in the ass, in respect of what I have had to go through these years, is how it has diminished my output and enthusiasm for useful projects (who says they’re useful?) and how I procrastinate and put off so many of the things I intended to do and didn't. Sometimes, the only way to get them done (I haven't tried this yet), is to publicly embarrass myself about them. I've meant to send this bottle of single malt Scotch to Michael Rivero for a couple of months. I don't even know if he likes Scotch but I'm very sure he can trade it for something he does like. I keep putting off finishing my new novel. It's written, all I have to do is transcribe it and I demur every single day. It's not acceptable. That book needs to come out, if for no other reason than that I've never seen the novel format used that way and because it’s really funny too.
I should have been a guest of Jeff Rense on his radio show a long time ago. I didn't put the industry into it that I should have. Now I will be on his show this Friday. Well, at least I got that done, except it hasn't happened yet. I should have confronted people about their personal feuds more vigorously, or so I think (I could be wrong and therefore right). Every time I do something drama queen like, I get hammered (like the SOTT debacle). I am probably still on the outs with Jay Weidner and a certain Christian fellow, whose radio show I was on. I'm not sure where we stand. I screwed things up with both of the people who published my two books, although, in the case of the first one, I do not consider myself to be at fault but... I probably am. This is what happens when all you remember as a child is your father saying to you, “You dirty stinking hound (dog poet?), you'll never amount to anything”. Or recalling my being brought into his presence, when I was just learning to walk and having him threaten and abuse me for shitting in my diaper. That's probably why I painted one of my early masterpieces, in shit, on the wall above my crib. He beat the crap out of me for that. I lived in such fear that I wet the bed until I was 16 years old.
Once my mother went to New Jersey to visit her parents for two weeks. Since I was the only child in school, I was left alone with my father. On one occasion, after inspecting my bed, he whipped me with an extension cord and tore my flesh. I had enormous bleeding welts all over my legs. How come no one noticed? There was an upside to this; maybe it's an upside. I didn’t get pubic hair until I was nearly 18 years old and I didn’t know what sex was until I was 15 and even then I didn't get it. The first time I had sex was when I was in that mental institution in Norman, Oklahoma with another patient. She was a cutie though. Her father was a doctor. That's where I read that psychology magazine and saw the article about Timothy Leary. Well, after the LSD airwaves got polluted and my friend Peter turned me on to coke, I certainly made up for lost time. I'm not in Charlie Sheen or Wilt Chamberlain country but Young Lochinvar didn't do too badly. Well, sex and all sorts of other attractions went south on me a couple of decades ago but the cosmos found a way around that, which is nothing short of amazing, if you think about it and the unique beauty and desirability of those whose care I have been put into. Their beauty and bone deep goodness would stop a clock, in a good way.
Why am I talking about this, in Petri Dish, and what has that got to do with the culture? I don't know yet but, at least for me, nothing happens by accident. Maybe it has something to do with full disclosure, even though we are only in the preliminary stages. Maybe it's something else. We'll see. One thing I do know is that it has something to do with those free frolicking porpoises of demonstration; those dancing dolphins that seem to attend me and yourselves as well, only most of us can't see them.
A lot of our lives are pre-managed by Karma; nearly all of us actually... probably all of us. I get in these states, in respect of transiting moments and I always have to crank up “Pure Country”. The comments and reviews tell you a lot about the film but this, along with “Cool Hand Luke” has more quotable statements than any other film. You could probably make an argument for Time Bandits, Performance and One-eyed Jacks and there are others, I expect, but I think you can tell a lot about a person by the films they like, the books they read, the passions they pursue.
The hardest thing about living this life at this time, is coming to terms with the concept of Karma. The Buddhists have this thing that they call, 'unbearable compassion'. It's when you see horrible shit happening all around you and you know you can't do anything about it. It just has to run its course. I shared my copy of “The Way to the Kingdom” with a lot of people a few years back and there's a part in there, where the author describes that everything happening today, goes back to a time of dark evil. He doesn't go into detail but you get the sense of it.
I want all righteous intentions to succeed. I really do. I don't oppose anyone. I don't object to material culture, because I am a part of it and it would be dishonest. At the same time I think it depends on what you do with it; where your aspirations and ambitions lie and whether they are a lie or not and who you are telling that lie to.
When I was a kid, even though I was a gifted athlete, other kids used to beat me up all the time, spit in my face, humiliate me. Well, I was used to it, wasn't I? Then, near instantaneously, I got really good at defending myself, as I definitely have proven and I don't run into that sort of thing at all now. I used to half-assed be able to play the guitar and a little piano. Now they collect dust. I can't even do the simple things I used to be able to do on the instruments but... writing, singing and dancing were always the core issues and relate to all the rest of what I just said too. I could be an honorary black man. All of my heroes are black. I even named my daughter after one of them.
The thing is, we're only here to come to terms with something we don't understand, until we come to terms with it. Our mediums of expression can be violent and duplicitous on the way. All of my fighting styles and defense mechanisms are female, if that rings a bell (just joking!!! ...but true none the less). People really ought to study the animal kingdom to get a clue about how power works. For some reason, I'm thinking about the iron fist in the velvet glove; probably no connection there. I wish I could see better. It's probably right in front of me. Like the guy in the first link, you just don't get it at the time. It's what you do about it, when you do get it, that defines you, so, understanding and compassion have a real power in the mix. Not only were you once where they are now but, there but for fortune goes you and I. I’ve mentioned it some several times, life is a spiral staircase, don't piss over the railing. There is an Escher effect to all of this, for those of you who know a thing or two about Geometry and Trig...especially your 'shoot around the corners' theoretical sorts.
Something is about to happen now. I can feel it so close. Maybe that's why I'm saying what I'm saying today and specifically 'some of the things' I've been saying. Fuck me and my sorrows and regrets, they don't hold a candle to some of the terrific horrors I have seen and am aware of. I am blessed out of all proportion to anything I've done in this time frame. I must have been a good guy once. That is the only way I can account for it. The first thing I think about when, something good happens to me is, “Who can I share this with”? One of the things about giving everything away is that you are always poor; probably from having no sense of self but... having no sense of self makes Lady Kundalini fall in love with you. Many of our fuck ups seem to turn out righter than rain in the long run (cue The Eagles).
I had this good friend who was Jackie Lomax's wife. She was a good friend of Jimmy Hendrix and in the short months before his departure, when she used to visit him, he would complain about demons sitting on his chest. Obviously he was supine and then he died as he did; “Golden rose, color of the dream I had, not too long ago, misty blue and lilac too, never to grow old. There you were... etc.” “Waterfall, nothing can harm you at all, my world is so very small, with my waterfall”. She got into a horrible traffic accident, in her Volkswagen bug with a tractor trailer. She’s living in Ojai, Kalifornia now, or was, last I heard.
There's a lot of this memory lane stuff happening now; reflections (not always in a Petri Dish). It must mean something. I can't say I'll miss this place when I go. Don't read anything into that. Change is change, it doesn't mean death, or anything final, what it means is ...change. Certainly when you change, the world you once knew exists no longer. A lot of you always think I’m checking out, when I talk like this. That's not the case, but you can’t embrace the new, when you are still dressed in garments of old. There’s something about new wine in old bottles that factors in here, or maybe it's the other way round. What do I know? I know that I am grateful to have met you, even if I never do.
'Build Me a Castle' is track no. 2 of 10 on Visible's eponymous
'Les Visible' Music Album
Lyrics (pops up)
So, the radio show is actually up now. Being fucked with by circumstance and agenda is routine here. Mind how you go.
I'll reprint my comment from Mirrors for the benefit of those who missed it.