Thursday, May 17, 2018

Oh What a Wonder it is, When Heaven Begins where Your Feet touch the Earth.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Why do I keep doing this? Same day, different (no, not different) remoulade. ♫to lead a better life, I need my love to be here♫ Wow! They managed to do this and now they are managing to do this. Decade after decade they fought in every dark and down and low dirty way to get themselves named, 'the people of the book.' They are not the people of the book. The Palestinians are. They are the ones with the DNA connection. The Ashke-NAZI interlopers have no connection to the Middle East. Now it's all falling apart.

Jerusalem is an international city, meant to celebrate the faith of all religions, not just the money lender faction. Follow the money people! Cui Bono? Knock, Knock Knuddels? Knuddels? Gnocchi-like food; it is composed of a mousse made out of Holocaust survivors and then wrapped in a viscous and smarmy dough of lies, so you kind of got a ravioli. The sauce is blood, sweat and tears, made from the bodies of the survivors of holocaust lies. “Now that's a tasty burger.!” Unfortunately there is no mousse (April Fool!) so all you get is the dough. Dough? Follow the money! Like it had eyes.

It's okay to object to this diminishment of an event that didn't happen. Kinda no fault, except for the sauce of blood sweat and tears. I guess you get no sauce either so it's just the dough. Yuk!

I want to give a shout out to a tireless worker in the fields of the lord; Mark R. Elsis. He is a man of many parts. Perhaps a Renaissance Man. I get his newsletter in the mail every day and the volume of useful information is off the hook. There aren't many like that out there. If you want what is relevant delivered to your desktop, Mark is THE MAN! I've said and there is no more for me to say. Hundolay!

Finding it harder and harder to find something to say. I've been to this posting about a dozen times in the last couple of days. I get a few words down. I look for something to refer to. Did that... nah... said that too. Same thing happens at the radio broadcasts. Do I keep the format? Blowing a little smoke out of the nostrils, LTPTB? Talking about this, that and the other thing... Hummm. All I want to do is talk about God. Sometimes I do and that feels right but I don't always nail a golden spike where that cat wailed. You see the news, or what passes for the news out there. It's the same from one day to the next. You don't need me for that. I want to feel like I've left you with something more and sometimes I do. It's Petri Dish, where I'm supposed to talk about is the culture and how it looks in the Petri dish like some form of mucus on a glass slide. That's pretty much what it is; up close and personal (grin).

Regardless, I'm going to talk about God because I never get tired of that. God provides me with something new whenever the divine comes to the central point, like the top of the triangle where the lines from the eyes meet in the forehead, that invisible yet present, Ajna chakra. God is a wonder to me. Someone once asked Guru Bawa what they should do when they see a beautiful girl/woman. How should they handle that attraction factor that was so magnetic and powerful and the confusion it brings to the heart, the mind and the soul? He said, “put your hand on your heart and say, “”Oh what a wonder!””” There is no denying the flowering beauty that presents. Are you supposed to say, “that is evil?” It's not evil. It is there and it is what it is. Of course you are looking only at a time capture of a moment, on the way to the grave; a dead girl walking.

I see this all the time in the supermarket, looking through the car window, walking on the street. I see dead people, on their way to some distant train station in a far off city. It repeats and repeats. Mostly, probably all the time, this is what most people do not see. There are little babies sitting in the shopping carts, on their way to the grave. We don't want to see this but that is what it is, on the way to the grave. What is not on the way to the grave is the almighty God. God is surrounded by eternal angels, suffused with light, surrounding an even greater light from which their own light comes. I have sat in meditation on occasion and found myself on a long corridor. Bodies of luminosity were on either side and ahead, far off, was someone indiscernible on a throne. It was too bright to see any details except for the brightness of the light. I knew if was the ineffable. I don't know how long I sat there. It was a very long time.

So often I have said to myself, to the ineffable. “Lord, let me sit just at the verge of the outskirts of your kingdom. Let me sit where I can see the light at the very edge of your light, where I can see the shadows off to the other side, where there is no one, because everyone wants to be closer to the light and I don't like to crowd. I don't want to push to as close as I can get. I dislike crowds and pushing and jockeying for position.”

I never found anything in this life like the ineffable. You know how I like to mention, over and over the greatest commandment? “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.” I used to wonder all the time if I did that. I was never sure. Now I am. In recent days I have seen that there is nothing and no one that I love as much; not even close. That comforts me in a way I cannot express. Never does my head hit the pillow at night when I do not say, first thing, “Oh Lord, I love you so much. Thank you! Thank you!” On and on it goes. In the morning when I wake, it is also what happens. All through the day I will find myself saying, “Lord, I love you. I am so grateful.” It does not cross my mind about the errors I have made along the way. I shrug all of that off. It's the cost on getting on with it. “The dogs bark but the caravan moves on.”

If I have somehow come to this understanding, regardless of the mistakes I have made, then my gratitude cannot be matched by anything. I have forgiven everyone, so that is that, sorted, or sordid, as you may prefer. I have no baggage there. I understand, as the Lord has often reminded me, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” I get it. I really do. Unless we can forgive others for their missteps, we can never forgive ourselves. It does not matter if they forgive us. God forgives us and his is the ONLY opinion that ever will matter. “The moving finger having writ, moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit. Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.”

I do not know how many days remain to me on this present travel, cross the planes and along the lanes of movement. Sometimes I am so weary as I go and sometimes I am fresh as if I just got here. Whether weary or unaware of the rigors and roughage, the ineffable is there. He is my strength and succor. He is what has made me what I am, constantly replacing me with his own being. Slowly and inexorably, we do not see, but every particle of us is replaced with something greater and something finer. One day we will look and see nothing at all but light within light. What could be better than this?

In the darkness of my prison cells, hitching the highways and seeing written on telephone poll; “been here three days and no ride.” Heh heh... didn't take me that long but I knew if it did, it did. I'm not in that prison cell anymore, but some are. I'm not on that highway but some are. Some are still in that prison cell and on that road, or they think they are. I think about that sometimes. It's the price we pay. I was told once that these things weren't going to happen anymore and they haven't. You just can't give up. It doesn't matter how tired you may get sometimes. You will not always be tired. You have to remember that. Never give up. The lord is our strength. We can and will and do, “walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” It is up to us if we, “fear no evil.”

Lord, let me always feel as I do right now. Let me know with all the certitude that these years have brought me that you are always there. You carry me. You lift me up and I know that Heaven begins where my feet touch the Earth. I know that one does not get to Heaven unless they are already there. This is the true reality of us, Heaven is a state we carry with us and only recognition and memory will serve to keep us on the path.

My friends, it is fantastic for us if we will let it be so. I feel so much better already. I didn't know what to say and then I started talking about the only one, the only thing important to me and here I am, at the end of the post, no longer tired or bereft of what to say. There is only one thing to say, “ I love you Lord with all the love I have to give. I love the Lord my God with all my heart, and with all my soul, and with all my strength, and with all my mind; and my neighbour as myself. Thank you for being with me here today.

End Transmission.......

Friday, May 11, 2018

Kanye and Danielle do The Tango for Two in the Ballroom of the Overlook Hotel.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Good day my wonderful friends. The posts just keep on coming. From where? Heh heh... right; like I would know.

Meanwhile... nothing changes (what a steaming load of Dairy Queen soft swirl in the cone; empty on the point of the pointy head, or except for it changing from the same old into, surprise- into the Fabonacci, Nautilis shell of the golden mean of what is the sound of one tongue lapping) ... the same old, in hope of something new and one of these days, one of these days... one of these days.

It keeps repeating. It keeps repeating... and no matter what it does, you know it will have Kanye the pinhead in it. So... logically what is next, Alfred E, Neuman and the fourth Stooge? Certainly not D'Artagnan. Certainly not Jerry Lewis and Bridgette Barnone. What about Kanye and Danielle Bregoli? Maybe something like Jerry Lee Lewis and his cousin from back in the day? They are laughing in your face people. They believe no matter what they tell you, you will stare at it like a carp with its first born wriggling on the hook. Yum.

How much crazier can it get? You ain't seen crazy yet but... you will. Where is the French Revolution when you need it? In a world with far too many people, in search of an individuality comprised of a hundred million of the same tattoos, screaming, “I'm me!!!” You get the perfect it girl. You want to laugh. You want to cry. You're afraid to live but you just can't die.

Oh yeah... Kanye and Danielle. Let's get a soundtrack to that; how about Iggy?

Could anything be more perfect? Nope. Meanwhile Vladmir does it again. Why can't we have a president like that? Mother Nature has something suspiciously like morning sickness but it lasts all day long. Then this shows up as an ad in the right side bar. Do they track what we do, or not? I love you Lord! No matter what happens. No matter how strange my story is, or yours; I don't have a link for that one but you should be able to have an idea.

Right from a scene in “Idiocracy” comes Kanye and Danielle. She's got no problem with her albums or that great American novel she will no doubt write sometime this evening Remember those great duets from the 80s? Any day now we will get these two doing a cover of “Endless Love”?

Wait for it!!!

Its a cartoon. I look out my window and I see the roadrunners going by; amazing creatures. At night sometimes I hear the coyotes. One of these days the waterbed will get here and I will dream as the waves burble beneath me, the dreams flow as they are wont to do when the water does what it does in the subconscious. I've never slept so well as on a waterbed. Water and dreams have a wonderful connection. Time goes by, each morning I awaken and I'm still here, wherever here is. I wonder at the meaning of it all. It's one of those elusive things that is always just out of your grasp and much like water that cannot be contained. It slips through your fingers like sand and they have a great deal in common, not to mention the sand that lays beneath the waves of the ocean. Sand that is created by the pounding of the waters on what were once rocks and all else, reduced to fine grains. Water will do that. It's like what happens to history after awhile, or cultures, countries and everything else;

Rocks in the Stream

♫Rocks in the stream, the water runs by,
So did our lives, like nothing at all,
So do our lives and that's all

'A river of laughter, a river of tears,
Just like the water through all of those years,
Something runs deeper here,
Something runs deeper here

Sometimes I almost can see it,
But it is never clear
Like clouds on the sun,
A mist on the sea
Completely covers me; completely covers me

Sun through the branches shines on my head,
I must be dreaming, I really don't know
Maybe it's always been so
No dream lasts forever
I lay down to sleep
They say that he comes in the night like a thief
Rocks in the stream
Rocks in the stream
Rocks in the stream

Sometimes I almost can see it
But it is never clear
Like clouds on the sun, a mist on the sea
Completely covers me; completely covers me

Sometimes I can see it, but it is never clear
Like clouds on the sun and a mist on the sea
Completely covers me; completely covers me

Sun through the branches shines on my face
I must be dreaming, I really don't know
Maybe it's always been so
No dream lasts forever
I lay down to sleep
They say he comes like a thief in the night

Rocks in the stream
We're just rocks in the stream
We're rocks in the stream.'♫

That song reminds me of life and all that it is composed of... Rocks in the stream and eventually it wears us away and we wake up when there is nothing left to keep on dreaming. Something like that. I apologize for stealing those lyrics and the music from Kanye and Danielle. I hate to plagiarize but I just don't have the creativity that they have and that is probably why all the opportunities passed me by... (sigh).

Here's an incredible thing that just happened. I am trying to find a way to upload the song to the post. I download Microsoft Movie Maker to do it and find out I have to pay for it or it gets a watermark. I think. “okay, as long as I can get it up.' It never goes up so I buy something called VSDC Video Editor Pro for 20 bucks a year. I am trying to figure out how to use it when I get an email from The Elf saying that he is uploading my songs and do I want to do it this way or that? I'm thinking; “what? I am just trying to do this so.” He send me the necessary link and next thing I know, there it is!!! What are the odds? God is real folks. God is real. At the same time I hear from the fellow who tells me he has a lawyer but who is telling me he is glad I have a lawyer, after telling me his tale, which is much like mine but.. I don't have a lawyer. Heh heh. That will get figured out as we go (I hope). There are so many beautiful people out there and he is one more. The similarities between my life and that of others is mindblowing. There is this sympathetic strings thing happening with Shiva's drum and that sitar which is our resonant lives showing how magical our sameness is. One thing sets the other in a harmonic poetry of sameness. Wow!!!

Mysterious things are happened but in such a synchronized and serendipitous way. The ineffable told me this would start happening, once I agreed to come back but I never expected anything like this. I am speechless; metaphorically speaking. Okay! Enough self involved, subjective rhapsodizing. Let's get back to whatever it was I thought I was talking about. Right, Kanye and Danielle.

The roadrunners are out there at dawn and dusk. They're eating the lizards and looking around for the little quail babies that come and go with their parents. NEVER have I seen such doting and responsible parents as the quail. Sometimes there are 14 of the little guys and sometimes only a handful. I am looking out for them as they like to hide out under the barbecue. They know they are safe here. I've always got a rock handy for the roadrunners. I wouldn't actually hit one but I love to keep them away. I know I am messing with the course of Nature but I can't help it. The little guys are so cute and these virtual velociraptors are relentless. I love them too but they are built like some kind of perfect killing machine. Thinking about my new doggie every day but don't have one yet as I am looking for a white short-haired Labrador (I'm not allowed to have a bull terrier- which is what I want or a Jack Russell for some reason having to do with their temperament.) and I don't want to pay for one as they are VERY expensive (the white labs) and I am into rescue dogs anyway; digressing. I KEEP digressing today. Sorry about that. It happens now and again. I miss having a dog in a way I cannot adequately explain. Sooner or later.

Some truly unreal things are happening! It could be that something has happened in the cosmos. I'm sure of it but can't put together what it is. What I do know is that God is real. The conversations lately are off the hook and so are the dreams, which are only dreams but getting so lucid. It is as if the dreams and the awakening are interactive and simu-synched. My friends, I am so glad that you are here with me on this tremendous adventure. We've had such a ride of it. For so many others it has been streamlined and a piece of cake; albeit with Marie Antoinette, waiting in the wings, sharpening the guillotine but for herself, which she is as unaware of this time. Oh course, her name is Rhianna this time around.

I'm guessing I should get out of here before I melt down into some kind of Jello product and wind up with Bill Cosby. Once again, A real pleasure that you are all around for this dance. Even though we haven't met and may never, there is little doubt that we have met and will continue to. Much love.

End Transmission.......

Thursday, May 03, 2018

Robert Mapplethorpe and the Awesome Surprises in the Limousine Ashtrays of Andy Warhol.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Here are some of Robert Mapplethorpe's quotes;

“Beauty and the devil are the same thing.” (?)

“I am obsessed with beauty. I want everything to be perfect, and of course it isn’t. And that’s a tough place to be because you’re never satisfied.”

“When I work, and in my art, I hold hands with God.”

“I don’t know why my pictures come out looking so good. I just don’t get it.” (neither do I.)

I remember the '60s very well. There's a joke that's been going round for decades; “If you can remember the 60s, you weren't there.” I remember them and I was there. I remember the 60's for the things I liked and the things I did not like. No one can accuse me of being opinion free. I have opinions and I am passionate about them. I recognize that the Rolling Stones were one of the best rock groups of all time but... I did not like them or Led Zeppelin, or a few others because they has that Satanic edge. During the 60's my life was about devotion. I rarely smoked, often did not take drugs (except for LSD), meditated often, lived in the awareness of God and every time I took LSD, I was going to visit with some permutation of Lady Nature, the ineffable ...and whatever elementals would appear and some of them always did. If you liked the Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelin then my take is not a knock on you. In no way would I argue that these bands did not have the maximum in skill and impact. They did but... I looked behind the door at Led Zeppelin and their private times. I was at Altamont. I KNOW what I saw. I did not like Ozzy Osborne. I did not like death and heavy metal. I felt that music was meant to inspire and that it provided a soundtrack for the sorts of environments, woven out of the minds of the actors (us) of the time. Simply look at what rap and insipid, saccharine bubble bath rock has given us.

I did not like what was going on in the universities and I saw what I feared, materialize over following decades. I did not like materialism. I did not like the gratuitous, free love, public humping, beast mode. I saw it. I had to step over it. I had my head shaved and my heart and mind on the prize. Later on I got processed into the sexual, jungle dance and I regret it. I did not like that lounging on the sidewalk, spare changing act. I did not like people referring to their partner as, “my old lady.” I didn't like the brutish police telling me what I could and could not put in my body. It was none of their business then and it is none of their business now. They can celebrate the darkest and most evil comestible of all; alcohol, which is legal and which IS USED to legitimize bad behavior. When I was in prison I was astounded at the number of inmates who could not remember doing what they did because they were all DRUNK. Some of them were doing 30 years and life and I remember them shaking their heads and saying, “I don't remember.”


Whoa whoa alcohol
You taste so cold and sweet.
You knock me off my feet
But you make my soul crawl

You give us nothing but dreams
Then you take them all
Jesus is the only way
But I don't think I'll go today
I'm just sit back and have a ball
With my old friend, alcohol

Green and brown your kingdoms come
The bottles gleam and drink the heart
But deep within the spirits drown
And what is lost cannot be found
And what is lost cannot be found
In alcohol

When the moon rises
I hear your call
I want to be somebody different
Or no one at all
I want to rage like the devil
Stand ten feet tall
Still you're a fool if you listen
To alcohol

Fire in the blood
And death in the air
But I got no fear
Hey what do I care
I can beat every system
I can climb every wall
I'm the king of the moment
With my queen-

I did/do not like Andy Warhol. I despised Jackson Pollock for what he was in life and in art. In art he was a pretentious, ill mannered poseur. He was notorious for shitting on people's carpets and in their fireplaces, especially those who might have been considered friends, though I doubt he had any. To me, the greatest art manifested by a true artist is 'their life'. Only a real artist knows how difficult it is to carry yourself well in real life with that fire burning in you. There were periods where I did not. Finally I have somewhat mastered that. Jackson was technically a product of the generation previous to the 60's but his fame was assuredly of the 60's. I could not stand Yoko Ono. Few of you have heard the awful, caterwauling productions of her (cough-cough) music. I have. It is execrable and intolerable but there are other reasons to dislike this woman. I don't think about her much but... if she comes up in conversation... heh heh.

My friend, Gary Kupper is a recording artist, who now and again fell on hard times and wound up driving limousines for a car service, which resulted in him ferrying the famous through the club life outposts of their zombie dance through the disappearing temporary. We were having a drink one evening when he related to me a story about his experience of Andy Warhol. He was driving him and a young hopeful around through The Village from one place to the next. At one point he looked into the rear view mirror into the back seat and saw Warhol blowing the kid. Once he had finished, Warhol spit the semen into the ashtray in the back door. Gary was a tad disgusted by this since he had to clean out the ashtray at the end of his shift; or maybe before.

One other individual from the 60s that I could not stand was- Robert Mapplethorpe. If you try to find examples of his art, you find tame and artistic renderings, often of women (though his work was mostly gay. I've seen his other work for which he is most remembered and it is as profane as it gets. It really is pornographic and a celebration of the specific depravities associated with a sexually dysfunctional lifestyle. They're rehabilitating him now because they are making a film about him. He's getting sanitized and this is why I haven't been able to find any of his darker work, which was most of it. It's all stylized snaps and strangely, focused on the female. They are of a type where you could see the subject draped over a new car or holding an alcoholic beverage.

Mapplethorpe's artistic rival over the years might well have been Tom of Finland, though he preceded him, time-wise. They made a movie about him too. He was more of a cartoonist and a caricaturist of the gay lifestyle and you can see examples of his work here. If a picture is worth a thousand words then Tom's might be paraphrased as 'worth a thousand expletives'. There's plenty of them, simply scroll down. This is what passes for timeless art in these times and the motive behind the attention being drawn toward this kind of work is the conscious elevation of depravity and degeneracy.

Why can I not find graphic images of Mapplethorpe's more controversial works and which compose the lions share of it? I've been (in the 60's) to openings of Mapplethorpe's work. He was really big in New York because he was from New York. This is what I get of his work when I go looking for it. By comparison with what I have seen, these images are seriously tame. He's got a lot of shots of foreign items being inserted into his ass as well as the asses of his subjects but I can't find any of them.

Once again you see here a posting focused on a particular lifestyle. Unless you've been sleeping in Rip Van Winkles watch pocket, you know it is being celebrated and promoted everywhere and especially in the curriculum of elementary schools. This is open warfare going on everywhere in schools today and those promoting this are laughing about it. This is abhorrent and demonic madness.

There is a relentless and calculated agenda going on in the media and entertainment world wide. Out of nowhere comes this Cardi B character who did an awful rap tune entitled “Bodak Yellow”.

She gets promoted everywhere. Next thing you know she's hooked up with a guy from the group, 'Migos' or 'Migros'. They are one of the top rap groups going. Next thing you know she's pregnant by the guy; just like all the Kardashians suddenly getting pregnant by rappers and basketball players. It's all scripted folks. That infected anal fissure of a website, TMZ, run by a Tribe Lawyer, is all about D-List celebrities that they refer to as A-List. They are all rappers and assorted bitches and ho's. The purpose of this website is to put these rappers and their lifestyle before the eyes of a moth in the candle flame public and give it the imprimatur of a legitimate life style and art form.

Kanye West is supposed to be meeting with Donald Trump. He's showing up everywhere. He's now a Trump supporter and is being realistically discussed as a presidential candidate for 2020. There is a wave of crazy being whipped up off-camera and it is ALL ABOUT sucking the public mind down into a swilling septic tank for the purpose of blacking out Mr. Apocalypse and concealing the portals of spiritual awakening, while greasing the skids of the ramp to perdition. Armageddon is taking place on the information highway, not on the battlefields of banker generated wars for profit.

TMZ is concentrated on manufacturing role models for coming generations. First they levered this moron into public view, by getting her on Dr. Phil, who is one of the more loathsome Satanists going.

Now she has a recording contract and a reality show. There's nothing accidental about any of this. If you check out the series of links in the first hotlink in this paragraph, you will see the progressions. Step by step, TMZ and their Satanic-Atheist backers are bringing these skanky, retarded blowup dolls out of underground labs, where they manufacture them in chemical vats; creating them out of poisoned DNA and grafted demon body parts. I'm not making this up and if you did the research like I do, you could clearly see the process at work.

This is not a personal fantasy. This is not something I am dreaming up in my mind. It's happening and its purpose is to distract the public mind from the contemplation of the divine within us and focusing it on the toxic appearances that are ferried up from the infernal regions to bind and enslave us, in a perpetuating darkness of terror, fear and dread. It is taking place in real time. Remember this, if you remember nothing else that I have ever brought to your attention; “Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” That is ALL you have to know and perform. Practice this and you will have come to the heart of eternal life and the essence of the critical importance of everything enduring and meaningful. Set this at the central locus of your heart and mind and the true light will illuminate your being and raise you into the company of angels.

End Transmission.......