Dog Poet Transmitting.......
May your noses always be cold and wet.
You can sense the changes looking for opportunity when one side of the culture is making relentless war on the other and the other is ten to a hundred times larger than the other, a change is going to come. It's not just a war of material states of existence, it's also a war of ideals and lifestyles carried on in a media that is owned and controlled by those making war on the rest of the population. Not a day passes when meaningless occurrences aren't trumpeted as important and the war is not isolated to any particular country, it's international. Never mind the irony of someone who depends on political correctness for their right to play to the cameras, while wearing a mink coat. It is a war of language with no discernible limits. Besides spreading mindless fear about underwear bombers and toothpaste tube pipe bombs, there is the endless effort to manufacture events intended to spread fear through the neighborhoods. Look, there are very bad people about but... we are the government. We will protect you.
In yet more telling irony, the very people who brought the Bolshevik state into being are now attacking the no longer Bolshevik country 'they once used as the world's greatest killing fields' of all time. It's the same thing as when they created the fantasy of their being oppressed there, in order to cover what they had done there. Lady Nature has all she can take of the banal and ridiculous that now passes for life, a life in which dignity and honor have been criminalized. She's opening the Earth to swallow things and raising huge storms across the countryside to show her displeasure with the direction of human life. We're going to see epic expressions of this when the warmer weather comes in. Nature is going to turn on her oppressors, just like the peoples of the world are going to turn on theirs.
It's easy to react to things like this and classify them as absurd conjecture, cause first of all, there is no Lady Nature and everything that is happening is happening for reasons given in the newspapers and on TV. The truth is that there is a hidden side to things and just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there. Everything manifest come out of the unseen, whether it begins in the mind, or it comes out of Nature. We never do see the source of the will that brings these conditions into being. You can tell yourself whatever you like. It changes nothing. What is, is... and the wisest among us across the ages all concur about there being an invisible realm of causes. In the western mystery tradition it's known as precipitation. The will passes down through these four planes of atziluth, briah, yetzirah and assiah. It is said that in the Atzilah-world the Shekinah alone rules; in the Beri'ah-world are the throne of God and the souls of the just under the dominion of Akatriel ("Crown of God"); in the Yetzirah-world are the "holy creatures" (hayyot) of Ezekiel's vision, and the ten classes of angels ruled over by Metatron and in the Assiah-world are the Ofanim, and the angels that combat evil, governed by Sandalphon. That's not the point of my mention here though. My point is that everything starts as an idea, gets blueprinted in the Creative world, brought into form in the Formative world and makes its full appearance in the Material world.
There are cosmic rules that govern all procedures and departures here and elsewhere. Sure it looks all chaotic and undisciplined down here. The strong prey on the weak. The avaricious, steal and plunder at will and those elected and appointed to protect us do anything but. I can understand how, when you only have the manifest to go by and don't put any credence in the invisible, you only believe in the visible. Sure, many give lip service to a heavenly realm, as well as Hellish dimensions but... when the broad daylight reality of full commitment comes about, through all those predictable tests and challenges ...and it does, we find out what we are made of and we then, perforce, go on to live the result of our spiritual inconsistency. Ah well, we've all got a portion of that in these times. It's no cakewalk for any of us that have given any percentage of a shit at some point or other. It's understandable that the majority of us would falter and from there it is a pretty easy ride to smolder in a subterranean resentment of those who bring to our attention to things we would rather forget because they are an unpleasant reminder of what we continue to evade and ignore at every turn.
Everything that happens, happens on schedule. Right now we are in a period of stagnation and one sensitive to the task can feel its presence. It's like being in the Horse Latitudes or The Doldrums and commensurate with times like these, you get a collective fascination with things like stuffed pork rinds and people that stick things in their beards being called artists. The planets are in a kind of faceoff, which usually occurs as a preliminary to dramatic change. I'm not the only one who is scheduled to be in the wind shortly. At least I know it's coming.
I lay in my bed this morning. I had awakened at fiveish, coming out of a dream state that has been coming around every night for some weeks. This morning, I lay there in consideration of what lies ahead of me and the routes I've come. At first I was unsettled, as I've been a lot of late, mostly because of the uncertainty of it all and then, 'enter the voice' and after some moments of back and forth, it was all as clear as one of those Caribbean skies you sometimes get, where the cerulean blue of the sky, merges up with the turquoise of the waters and a shimmering atmosphere of hyper clarity appears between the two. Short moments later I had forgotten everything that got said... how it goes sometimes.
It's right there on the border of too difficult to look at directly and coupled with the stagnation, it's unsettling. One of the things we are probably unaware of is the degree to which the prevailing climate of negativity affects our day to day outlook. If it's not the confusion and faithlessness in operation all around, it's the aimless pursuit of appetite, to the exclusion of any deeper concerns. There you are surrounded by it. If it's not tracking you through the shops and down the sidewalks, it's coming out of every transmission vehicle that spins the nonsense we have been told is real and which we have taken for real; it having been such a long time since real has been around these parts or those parts AND... if that weren't enough, there's the telepathic transmissions coming out of the poison planes of the lower etherics. It's some kind of Trifecta of Evil. It's understandable that most of us would be subdued by the weight of it all and in our confusions and uncertainties, it is a given that we would grab on to whatever material anchors there are to stabilize our state. This is why most people lace their arms through the bars of their cell when the liberator appears and why they mistake him for the enemy and move to harm him. That hasn't changed.
Even those who consider themselves of a rational nature, or in possession of a high state of awareness, will transform into beasts, when coming face to face with the agent of true meaning, who renders everything else meaningless. This is especially true when that encounter is in the manifest, because it's typical for those things seen to appear to be other than what they are.
This present malaise, this heavy stillness of dead wind can turn us against each other. We can attribute the enmity to something said, or some event not properly understood but often it is neither. It's been there all along. It's the sum of all we didn't leave behind and all that remains unfinished but which is studiously ignored.
I'm watching the ending of "3,000 Miles from Graceland", which was playing as I was writing this. It's one of those films about promise, possibility and redemption; the kind of films I tend to like more than any other, like "Interstate 60", or "Super". One thing most of us do far more than we realize, is to underestimate our potential and thereby ourselves and that has put us at the mercy of those who continuously over estimate themselves at our expense.
None of this is what we think it is though, it's not just about the good guys and the bad guys and the dramas that tediously recycle over and over and over again. This is just the window dressing, the stage setting and how it looks under the stage lighting. What it is all about is your appearance here and what you make of it and that is not dependent on you succeeding or failing, wining or losing, or any of those measurements which are, for the most part so arbitrary that they don't mean anything in the ultimate sense, or mean one thing here and another thing there, or one thing then and another thing now. It's all about what you did with your time and what your intentions were AND are; what you make of hope springing eternal and whether you got back up on your feet the last time you got knocked down and what you did and where you headed afterwards and how you felt about it and what bearing that had on anything.
Unless you are a twin, you're born alone and barring your departure in a plane wreck, or some similar group karma event, you die alone too. When you come before the judges, following your arrival into less visible locales, you'll be standing there alone too. Most people would prosper more fully and find a greater content, were they able to keep their focus solely upon their own thoughts and actions, or at least recognize their basic commonality with all life, separated only by experience and awareness; our appearance not withstanding.
Nothing going on around us or outside us, is of any comparative value, compared to what is going on inside us and what we have awakened, or suppressed within, because that accounts for everything we do and say and what the value and meaning of any of it amounts to. From wherever we draw our direction and inspiration AND we all draw it from somewhere, from that comes the composition and the expressions of what we are.
Sometimes because the times are good and fair, that brings lasting influence and success; insofar as things can last here and in other times it can bring censure and alienation. The truth is though, no matter what the times may hold and bring, that should have no bearing on what you bring forth and stand behind or in front of. That shouldn't change no matter what the times elevate or depreciate. Sooner or later, it will come around. This kind of recognition does not come from the world but from the one who has command of it all; the real force that rules behind the specter of the master of appearances. It's seeing through, not looking at, which makes all the difference.
'Mr Apocalypse is Coming' will feature on a forthcoming Visible album, sometime in 2014
Lyrics (pops up)
The Curious Tale of Ash and The Whine
- 'A Novel of the Unnatural and Supernatural...'
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