Reflections in a Petri Dish — June 14, 2018
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
I am sorry to share this bit of news with you today. It seems like I am supposed to, whether I like it or not. About 3 or four days ago I was sent to Hell for reasons I cannot fathom. God and every other entity that was a friend of mine told me that they hated me and it was not going to stop. It would back off only to return again. Voices in my head were telling to mutilate myself and kill myself as well. The pressure was excruciating. Never in my life have I seen anything like this before. No comments were coming in. I was finally able to check today. The Elf asked me if I wanted them posted. I got no emails from any reader telling me this was happening. There might have been one but no more and this is insane that no one would contact me! The brutality of the commentary directed at me was so vile I could hardly imagine it happening. Now it seems to have improved. It’s been fine all day.
I went in to the hospital emergency room and they put me through Hell drawing blood and what all and the most painful that is could have been ever. They stabbed fiercely 3 or four times and kept having to go to my left arm.
The doctor told me to come in the next day for an MRI. I came in and they told me they couldn’t give me an MRI and that I had to come in the next day. Once again they told me they couldn’t run the test in my right arm and had to switch to the left arm. I got there around 6:30 AM and like all the other days, they drew blood and it was more painful than it had ever been; way past that. I got up and said, I’m going. They were giving me shit and were as demonic as ever they were. They were cruel about my leaving; glaring at me. As soon as I left the pain went away and has been gone since. Nothing makes any sense.
All I could think of before this was, “What did I do?” I’ve tried to serve at all times but that has had no impression on my tormentors. I’ve tried to do the right thing.
I cannot illustrate, how mean and inhuman everyone on the other side has been to me. The pain was unbearable. Somehow I bore it. It surprised me greatly. I was able to bear it.
What is going on? It really was as desperate as anything I have ever encountered. Everyone was laughing at me. I hate to put this on any of you but it seems I should at least tell where I was in these days. At the moment, I have moved on. I’m not dwelling on it at all. I hope all of you are well. I’m trying to find something to talk about so that the posting can go in another direction. Here’s an interesting article. I had read that the amount spent was around thirty thousand dollars. The typical and expected is the same as it ever was. It is so in our faces these days. The beast moves among us, slavering and with bloodstained teeth. Pope John-Paul-Ringo-George are supposed to behind a speech that is to be given by an American Jesuit. The world really has gone into the crack pot.
This is the time of the breaking down of all infrastructure, as we enter into the Aquarian Age and are leaving the Piscean Age. This will mean that all those religions (with the exception of the Hindu) will be drastically altered. Maybe Buddhism will continue to. I feel this somehow but don’t know why. Governments and the systems they employ are also going into the dumpster. The previously abiding interplay between men and women is being radically transformed, as are the former archetypes of male and female and this accounts for all of the gay themes and the pedophile excesses that are presently resident, here there and everywhere. The universities are hotbeds of chaos and disorder. No one is learning anything that might be considered to be of value to us.
I’m trying to make sense of it all but that appears as garbage and fast food wrappers, which blow across empty lots. It is a sad state of affairs. Graffiti is scrawled on subway cars and walls. We have turned into A Clockwork Orange. “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” Certainly all of our righteousness is as filthy rags. I think of the parables and aphorisms in the various books of the Bible and how relevant they are. I wonder if I am doing all that I can, to help in the evolution of thought and feeling. I would like to think that I am being useful. I don’t know if I am but Hope springs eternal. I feel like I took a double load of buckshot in the stomach. I am crying out to God. I cannot help but do this, even though it seems ludicrous in the extreme. I wonder at my capacity to speak well and to feel well about the deities who have said such abusive things to me. It seems that I am something like a kicked dog. No matter how badly I am being treated, it is impossible for me to not love God. This is something I could not countenance over the short run or the long run (cue The Eagles).
I am happy for the female side of things where long standing hurts are now being massaged with the Balm of Gilead. I am happy for the men who are not rank predators and happy for everyone else that the predators and vampires are being reduced in stature, or left in their coffins with a stake through their heart. I am happy for the ancient ones among us who, through grace, can receive the attention and care that they deserve, as they do in countries like Japan and wherever the case may be. I am happy for the animals for whom it might be true that their torment is coming to an end. I love animals so dearly. They are such a comfort to so many of us; our joyous friends who want only to love us and who receive precious little for their service.
I really have no idea what I might have done to bring such terror down upon myself. As it is, I have managed that terror fairly well. It seems sometimes that I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death and come to fear no evil.
For some reason God is truly real to me as I suspect God is for you as well. I suspect so many of you come here because of the shared cup of our beings. Though we may have no justification for what we are feeling, there is a place within that knows all there is to know; every important thing that there is and which lies cast off by the side of the road, something of no value; a hodge podge of detritus and cast offs. Those of us that are true to ourselves, know what is of value and what is not. Those of us who are able to love without hesitation of restraint will find ourselves forgiven of all error and welcomed into the kingdom by St. Peter and all the angels. I cannot express how devastating these last few days have been for me. The words of Kahlil Gibran echo through my soul. His feelings and the measure of his thoughts was of such a high order and I love him dearly for the length he went to to inform us of what we need to know so that we could proceed further up the road.
Once when I was about eighteen. I used to go to the library on New York Avenue in Washington DC. There I would listen to Lord Alfred Drake recite the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam until I had memorized it. I would read the Courtship of Miles Standish until I had memorized that and Kahlil Gibran who possessed such a beauty within. Father Francis once said to me. “Yes he came to visit me years ago. He was a sweet man but he drank too much wine (grin). I have probably told you that tale before.
I had been working at the Library of Congress in those times, in the Division of the Blind. Of course, most of the people I worked with were blind. So I bought a tear gas gun once and was sitting in the cafeteria with a couple of blind people and I was showing one of them how to operate it and it went off (grin). Boy! That was an unfortunate experience. Very quickly the gas spread all around and those of us at the table got up and surreptitiously we made our way out of there. For several hours after that you could see and hear guards racing about frantically, in search of the perpetrator. I decided I should turn myself in and so I did; not much happened. They were good about it. It was the GS15’s in the cafeteria who were red in the face and looking for someone to punish. I have had so many difficult events in my life. Mostly they were funny more than anything else. Man… did I have a time of it. Once I was reading Nietzsche in the library when someone like Stokely Carmichael stopped by my table and gave me a ration of shit for reading The Nietz. There were some really pissed off people around in those days. I wasn’t reading the Nietzsche because I was an Aryan supremacist. I read everyone in those days.
That was a wonderful time. I was learning so much. This did not put me philosophically in their camp. I was just wishing to learn. At one point I was reading Aldous Huxley and it came to me that Huxley had left good footprints for me and that is what I wanted to do, leave good footprints for others. All through my life I have seen those footprints and been grateful… so grateful.
I hope today finds each of you in a state of grace. I wish only the best for all of you. Try to remember that there are footprints there for all of us. All we have to do is to keep our eyes and hearts open and let the grace and inspiration of God descend upon us at whatever point the both of us are willing to have it occur.
DISCOURSES ON METAPHYSICS AND THE SONGS OF LES VISIBLE
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