Smoking Mirrors — Dec 3, 2016
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
I heard a fellow (can’t remember where now) yesterday saying that we only have less than ten years as a species/invasive feces left to survive in. He wasn’t very specific, people like this never are and he was affirmatively negative (can I say that?) the whole way through. The person interviewing him was just short of laughing in his face through the whole affair (not to say such an outcome is not possible). The guy came across to me as having Dim Sum for brains but he was definitely committed, in lieu of needing to be committed.
I bring up the preceding as an example of what I am hearing all over the place these days, in tandem with the doom and gloom, runaway paranoia, ‘woe is us’ orchestra that is doing its variation of a duet of the William Tell Overture and Mozart’s Masonic Funeral Music for Orchestra in C minor, played backwards, in which you can hear John Wayne Gacy talking about his forthcoming memoir of summer rendezvous’s with the Boy’s Club of America. The present working title (subject to change) is “The Horizontal Boys of Summer.”
I’ve spent a not inconsiderable period of time in this life, reflecting on how people come up with whatever perspectives they may be possessed of at any particular point in time. Over the last couple of decades, since I have been on the internet, or wired, as it were; well… I’ve been wired much longer than than that; now that I think about it… I’ve (as I already said) spent a lot of of time watching what people say and do, in the context of their given subject of inexpertise and I have found them… upon further reflection, in hindsight, to be mostly wrong across the waterboard.
The financial wizards are my favorite. They tell you it’s all going to go up and up into the stratosphere in their versions of John Magee, ‘slipping the surly bonds’ (and stocks- unless they’re locked in) of Wall Street, or… plummeting in free fall into the basement of less than zero sum; which is another kind of Dim Sum. Whether it’s the financial sucker pod fish, or the environmental depressives, or the religious sturm und Drangsters, they’re all of a kind, knowing that hyperbole sells books and generates TV face time. It doesn’t matter if you’re right or wrong, because most people can’t remember what someone told them the week before.
If you want to be sane in an insane world, you have to disregard what self styled experts have to say. Their expertise is geared toward inflating their level of influence in theaters where they should have never been allowed on stage. You see this kind of action in a really hysterical way when it comes to psychologists and psychiatrists. This area of shit for brains, auto-fellatio, has really gone into hyperdrive with fruit baskets like Morton, Maury, Wilcox, Dr. Phil, Ellen, Geraldo and Gerry Springer; that some city actually made their mayor (along with a plague of others) , proving the veracity of the phrase, “No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American Middle Class.”
This puts those of us who are sane but… reflexively considered crazy by those who really are crazy, in a difficult position. There is little you can do to awaken the planet at large because the planet at large is in a karmic penitentiary of the mind and most of them are wearing Samskara scarf blindfolds, of various degrees of opacity. We all affect each other in a time lapse sort of way. Our peers we affect in real time and others are affected across time and that leads us to ‘leaving good footprints’ once again. You can change the world but the reverberating impact of the influence may take considerable lifetimes. Jesus Christ is still hearing the echo (grin).
You will note that no matter how simple were the words of true masters, they ring across the ages and retain their veracity, regardless of the effect of time and circumstance upon them. In other words, time and circumstance have no effect on these words. Time and circumstance are external dramas. These words are the rhapsodic and eternal resonance of the poetry of the soul, vibrating in sympathy with its creator. This is the wondrous state of whomever is in harmony with The Way. Everything else is some permutation of suffering, based on the degree of separation. We’re like out of tune instruments and we think we have command of the tuning pegs. We can make ourselves more out of tune than we are or we can let the master musician handle it. This is ‘the lesson’ and the only lesson that needs be learned, no matter how ‘we think’ we understand it. It’s our thinking that determines our understanding of that which remains forever beyond our understanding. As soon as we are able to say, “I don’t know.” and viscerally experience it, we begin to understand.
We let HOPE fuck us up. Here is an enduring example of what HOPE does to you. We’ll tell ourselves whatever we have to to keep false hope alive. I’ve been watching this election recycling since inception and as you know… one of our strong suits here (at least in our mind) is TRENDS and we be watching trends. Visibilism alert; when the tables are turned the same people are still sitting there. We be watchin. How about those Cowboys?
Anyway… I/we read an article on some site recently that said individuals who use that word (we) as we are manifesting it, expressing it, are possessed… or something like that. In my case, of course I am possessed but… by what? The truth is that we are all possessed by something whether we will admit it or not; whether we know it or not. As the song states, “It might be The Devil or it might be The Lord but you got to serve somebody.” This is the case with Trump or anyone and to understand Trump you have only to look at the road he has traveled and what his interests ‘are’ AND the people he surrounds himself with. I still haven’t heard about my appointment to be Poet Laureate. I met Reed Whitmore (he liked my poetry) and Stephen Spender (he did not). I guess one does not become Poet Laureate by association.
It is no accident that there is no professed evidence of vote rigging and no accident that the loser makes no claim of it and no accident that it turned out as it did and no accident that there probably was vote rigging. One might throw my own words back at me; “Everything is under control” and “God is the motive force behind everything because there is no motive force that is not borrowed from the divine.” Well… that’s true. However, let me elaborate on that. It could well be (and it is) that the ineffable orchestrates and resolves every situation for the purpose of demonstration, so the real art is to not become an example of something you would prefer to see or hear about rather than experience. We choose to harmonize with the divine order or to oppose it. This does not make us good or evil. It does determine where we are, which determines our direction and state of being. As we like to say here, Heaven is not somewhere at an immeasurable distance in the sky above. Heaven begins where your feet touch the Earth; Hell too. It is our decision which of them it will be and our desires chart the course; smoky or smokeless. No joy can be realized in the pursuit of self interest. No joy can be realized in the pursuit of material gain for its own sake. Life without joy is Hell. The ineffable is the source of all joy. Hell is a life where the ineffable is absent.
Another way we screw ourselves up is by defining the ineffable and we always do that in the context of our own desires. We think this is good and that is bad. Or this is good in this circumstance but bad in that one. This is why I advise not to define the divine at all but rather to let the divine define you; actually make you in his image, which will reverse the image you made yourself into as a result of attempting to define the ineffable. We all turn into some version of Stephen Hawkings after awhile and wheelchair bound as well. You can see that metaphorically or literally because it applies either way. Why not just let God do all the heavy lifting? Do you really think Archimedes could move the world if he had a long enough lever? What world are we talking about? Your world? My world? Archimedes World? I’m trying to make a point here. As we also like to say, when the truth takes off her clothes, the world disappears.
Yes… we have repeated ourselves a great deal here today and we intend to continue to. We have no wish to antagonize any Trump supporters. We are only pointing out observations we have come across in our journey through Internetlandia and we would hope the reader will give some consideration to these annoying distractions that unfortunately prove to be true. I don’t know what Trump will do when he comes aboard the deck of the Starship Commercial Enterprise. I do know that if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck and the duck has a Star of David tattoo with “Property of Israel” on its forehead it is probably a tattooed duck who is owned by Israel.
Hopefully the commentary that manifested in betwixt the information about Trump, will take precedence of importance over the information about Trump. The world is no more than an endless exercise of Karmic bumper cars running into each other and the people that take them seriously. The worlds beyond are more real than the dreamscape we are presently moving through and more enduring too. Once we have solved our attachments to the unreal we might well get promoted out of it;
“Lead us from the unreal to the real. Lead us from darkness to light. Lead us from death to immortality”.” (one of those Upanishad things)
Last weeks radio broadcast is still winging it in the ethers and this week’s will be coming up shortly