Smoking Mirrors Ė October 25, 2010
Dog Poet TransmittingÖÖ.
You know, I donít have much of anything. I want what any man would want, I think. I donít know everybody. I donít even know who I am. My life is stranger than you can imagine and trust me; that is an understatement. I look at this thing with Jeff Rense and Mark Glenn and I begin to see what is wrong with the world. I donít know much about anything so I have to apologize for what I am doing here. I donít know what happened and I donít know anyone involved in a personal sense. I should be downstairs cleaning the kitchen maybe but Iím here instead.
I donít have any money. You could say I depend on the kindness of friends, or the divine because somehow I get by. I work hard at what I do but I donít make any money. Iím not complaining. I eat well and I donít eat for enjoyment in the first place. I eat to live. I think survival has something to do with it.
I think I write really good songs and I can sing too but Iím not a very good musician and I have no ability at recording my work so it doesnít sound like I think it could. I worked with and met people in music and I tried to do something but there were always these catches that I couldnít live with because I donít do what I do for money. Even when I did get a seeming break with Columbia Records, the producer destroyed the music by taking it off of old cassettes instead of DAT Masters and then did other ugly things to it. So I wound up in Tower Records all over the world but I sank like a stone and it should not have been. I wrote a kick ass novel and the publisher misspelled the title of the book in three places and left off the final draft so that it was full of mistakes and this is something a publisher wouldnít do normally but he did it to me. It sank like a stone and I still canít understand why there are more used copies of my book for sale on the internet than the amount he told me he sold and I got no money but money was not my objective. I only want to do the work and live and share. That is the sincere truth.
I have a lot of blogs that I write and a radio show that I do for free. I have no advertising on my sites. I am a pathetic person. If it wasnít that my consort had some money I would be on the street but I work all the time. She isnít happy with me now because I keep saying that it will happen for me just have faith but it has been a decade and I havenít come up with much; just a lot of material and no money. You could call me a loser.
You probably wonder how I got this far in life. I worked hard at a lot of things. I really did try but I have a problem compromising myself to an industry that turns the truth into shit because the only thing that I have is my integrity and my invisible friends. I am still working hard and I am still broke and I donít want anyone to send me money. That is not the point. I got this far so, donít worry about me.
The point is that you canít get anything to happen in this world without getting into bed with something that changes what you stood for and I canít do that but I understand why people do make arrangements and I see in this Rense/Glenn affair what I see with the rest of you who have hurt each other and donít trust each other because you have to get by and it is hard to get by without losing pieces of yourself in the process. It is all a matter of degrees I donít have any degrees by the way. I didnít even finish high school.
It seems to me that this is a house divided scenario. All of us have a single enemy with many personas and it drains our beauty and our drive. It killed the music. It kills everything we love and we sacrifice ourselves to make a difference and that is all a matter of degrees.
I wish I knew what to say but I donít. I think we are doing the job on ourselves that the bad guys intended. I wish we could be more than that. I guess I have some years left so I hope I can get better at coming to terms with myself and the people around me but I canít see any way around selling out which compromises the only thing I care about. I will go on writing and singing the wind and for the entertainment of my invisible friends because that really was my audience all along orÖ anyone who might care to hear it actually and I donít know where thatís going to take me but Iím just not going to get into bed with people who already screwed me over to begin with and none of it makes any sense.
Iím going to sing among my olive trees. They donít have any money but they got olives. I found a dog on a rainy day by the side of the road that was as bedraggled as could be and which I now know was not more than a few weeks old. I was driving by and I had to stop. The dog couldnít even climb up on the sidewalk. I had food in my car for my dog Poncho and I fed it and I took it home. It was so small. I called it Little Guy and I cared for it and I noticed that its shit was a funny color. One day I saw it by an olive tree eating olives. Raw olives are not tasty and it is funny because a member of The Tribe came to my house one day and was talking about how she had picked olives off of the trees and eaten them and how good they tasted. She was a friend of Lawrence Rockefeller. Have you ever eaten an olive that you picked from a tree? Think about it.
That dog did what it had to do to survive. I miss the Little Guy. Today he is a beautiful dog who lives with a dog handler. I was gardening and he jumped in my flower bed and I pushed him away and he landed on the tile deck and began crying out in pain. I said, ďPlease God, oh no, what have I done? Iím sorry.Ē I was weeping and trying to heal him with my heart and all within a few minutes he was okay and I was so grateful. The dog handlers replaced his hip because he had a problem they said. Did I cause that? I donít know. He always seemed fine but maybe my careless push to a small puppy caused that. Heís fine now and the people who have him made a book of pictures like a real book that they sent us and I canít think about that dog because I donít want to admit to myself how much I wished I had been able to keep him but I didnítĎt deserve him and I canít afford him. I can hardly feed myself.
Still, this lady from The Tribe could eat olives from the trees. I canít but I would if I had to before I would sell my ass but I guess I do one way or another so I hope all of you realize that we are all up against the same thing and Mark and Jeff are really, it seems, up against the same thing. I can usually judge someone by their voice and I like the sound of Jeffís voice and Markís voice but it is all degrees. We all live by degrees. I do not like the sound of Alex Jones voice or Bill OíReilly because it is beyond the degree I can live with.
We are a fellowship and a brotherhood of souls plagued by a common problem and the bad guys win if we let them push us by degrees. I hurt a lot for having to be the way I am and I am near tears writing this and I understand what all of you are up against because I am up against it.
My consort is a saint. She has really been a good friend to me and I have done my best but it is not enough because if I were any kind of a man I would sell my ass to make things right and itís not like there is a money problem. That is just a perception so I cannot let it rule my life. I will not, even though I have spent my life trying to create things to share, give away what made it possible for me to do it in the first place to a critical degree so that it turns out that all I am really saying is smoking mirrors
These are dark times and I think we should all have a little more compassion for each other and take the left hand side of the bargain, even when we know we are right. I am willing to take the blame if it will heal the situation. I can only hope that all of us will do what we can to the degree that we can. Wish me well and know that I wish you well with all my heart.
Last updated 27/10/2010