Zeus as Geneticist

"[Primeval man] could walk upright as men now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air; this was when he wanted to run fast …Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they made an attack upon the gods ... Doubt reigned in the celestial councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: 'Methinks I have a plan which will humble their pride and improve their manners; men shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will be diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the advantage of making them more profitable to us. They shall walk upright on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.'"
—Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium,

When kindness is cruelty

When the path is obvious and present circumstances, associations and relations do not support it for anyone involved, change is needed. Courage to affect change becomes necessary. Courage, often at the expense of feelings or reputation. What is the action most aligned with the higher good? How do I not settle back into destructive patterns of the past? How do I set someone free who willingly remains in the cage even when its door remains eternally open and incentive to stay within is completely removed? No manner of kindness seems to help. I have tried. I care about her, hope for her happiness and success, believe in her talent and abilities...but know strongly and without doubt that our paths are diverging. I know what I must do. I know that it will hurt her emotionally, but she and I are no longer on the same journey and we must part ways or neither of us will progress beyond this point.

I am walking a new road. I am seeking new companions and friends. It is truly cruel to be kind at this juncture. I hope she understands.

Adventitious Synesthesia: squinting the paradigm into focus

Sometimes one must close an eye in order to see clearly, or shield against the sun for the sake of perceptual clarity. Seeing through. Hearing around. Tasting and smelling in between… moving beyond the confines of sensate machination into subtle dimensionality of intrinsic substance… the true filling in the cosmic sandwich. Painful, intense, unsteady, flickering on and off rapidly and erratically in a disjointed creative flow. Your voices swim in seas of punctuated checker boards and algae-like drifts of prism smoke. Buzz. Buzz. Buzzing without rhythm. God cannot see me here, under this canopy. I am small and easily concealed from the eyes of judges. Walking clumsily on unsteady knees, seeking comfort close to the flame and finding calm repose in the intense heat of ancestral igneous spirit. Burn away flesh and bone, leave only the trembling in the walls of my stomach and long bones of my shrinking thighs. Shake me. Peel me like weeping onions. Heal me. Heal me. Heal me.

Project Jackblack

54686973206973206973207468652066696e616c20
7761726e696e67206f6e2074686973207369746520
2d20616c6c2066757274686572207761726e696e677320
77696c6c20626520676976656e206f6e20
6a61636b626c61636b31322e696e666f2e2042657761726520417264656e7420
53656e7472792e20426420616c65727420666f7220
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4e6f7420616c6c206665646572616c7574686f72697479657320
61726520696e766f6c766564

Translates to:

"This is is the final warning on this site - all further warnings will be given on jackblack12.info. Beware Ardent Sentry. Be alert for Semis bearing the sun icon. Not all federal authorities are involved"

See:

www.jackblack12.info (The timestamp for your input is: 1277190180
The date for your input is: 2010-06-22 08:03:00 ).

www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/culturepicturegalleries/4220575/Blackjack.html

http://mediamonarchy.blogspot.com/2009/06/ardent-sentry-09-noradnorthcom-terror.html

http://justgetthere.us/blog/archives/Ardent-Sentry-09-NoradNorthcom-Terror-Drills-on-June-18-24.html

http://www.whois.net/whois/jackblack12.info

Destiny sandwich with onions

“I can't control my destiny, I trust my soul, my only goal is just to be. There's only now, there's only here. Give in to love or live in fear. No other path, no other way. No day but today.” Johnathan Larson

So. Shit. It's out there before me and I cannot stave off the inevitable collision regardless of my own intentions and illusion of choice. It's coming like a train in the dark. What is my purpose? What is my path? If I am without choice, then why do I hesitate? Why do I wonder and hope for something more, something better, something normal and responsible? Hope is a lie of sorts, told by our rational mind to our reptilian brain to subdue its restless, impulsive actions. Hold the reins. Stay the course. The trains a coming. Full forward. This is gonna be messy.

Exhuming Bodies

Sooooooooooo

I've been conducting a postmortem on past relationships, trying to understand the dynamic that destroyed them and looking at my role in the destruction. Sometimes I can see what I did to contribute to the demise. Sometimes, honestly, I think I did the best that I could, that even a superhuman effort would not have been enough.

Most of my SOs (I haven't had many) were decent, humane, perfectly normal people with legitimate issues between us. Issues that were bigger than our combined abilities could overcome...that's life and we dealt with the fallout like adults. We still respect each other and even drop a line to say "Ello" here and there.

BUT..Some of them, like XXX and her pompous entourage, are just awful, insensitive, selfish life sucking douche bags. Plain and simple. No explanation, no justification, no rhyme or reason. They just suck. I'm alright with that. XXX, in particular, was a black hole pulling in all light and life within her gravitational field. I just realized that. Epiphany.
I can't own that anymore...I just let it go.

I have been owning the guilt of failed marriages and relationships for way too long and I want to wash my hands of it all and move on. I'm alright with who am. I am aware that any semblance of humanity and ethics I saw in some of these women was my own projection upon a blank, empty, bleached canvass. I am turning off the projector and sending back, in waves, the awful energy spent on building impossible structure into impossible relations. Feel it, it's coming your way now.

As for the "real" one's: I am thankful for the lessons and the opportunity to grow.

And so it is.

Petition for deliverance

This run hasn't been easy. It hasn't been particularly enjoyable and it has left some very deep scars. 42 years, at least 30 of them have been absolutely rife with disappointment and various degrees of pain. What the fuck was I thinking when I signed that fucking contract? I'm wondering what would happen in the karma department if I decided to get off the ride now instead of waiting. I'm just sayin...even the good times seem to have hidden burs and splinters. I think I just reached the bottom of my barrel. The very bottom. I recognize it. Been here a couple of times before…it has an odd peace associated with it, the wind blows through here and the sadness is absolutely exquisite. I want this to be over, not just this episode or this event or even this decade. I want the whole mortal experience to be over already. I’m not enjoying it. Not at all. Too many mistakes, too much wasted time and opportunity…I just want to go home now.

On turning left...

I drove eighteen wheelers for two years all over the lower 48. I found, to my supreme irritation, that I had a terrible tendency to turn left just short of my drops. I did this even when the GPS insisted that I don't, that I keep to the course and trust the all seeing eye. I rarely did, even knowing my tendency to make each drop more difficult through trying to backtrack after the premature turn. I have since adopted this model for my life theme. I always freak out and turn left just short of what I want. I usually come back to it, but it often takes a tremendous amount of effort to find my way back to the path. I don't understand it. I feel like I have missed out on soooo much by doing the over and over again. I find myself in such a pickle right now. Why didn't I just keep going????

And...

I freaked out.
Turns out the ambivalence was really shock.
I hurt pretty bad and I feel like a total dirt bag.
I broke something and it will never be the same.
Damn regrets.
I always turn left too soon.
AAAArrrrgggghhhhh.

Sometimes over is really over.

The unexpected presence of ambivalence in conjunction with an arbitrary decision to end an intense relationship is an indicator of emotional detachment. This time is different. This time is the real deal. No sadness, no anger, no longing, no desire for clarity or closure...simply a shrug and a nod and a wave goodbye as the curtain closes. Shock? Maybe. More a protective emotional mechanism akin to learned helplessness. It has happened many times before and now, at the edge of the final farewell, there is nothing left in reserve to apply toward a proper wake. It is dead and buried and I am without any significant feeling regarding its death. I'll probably freak out tomorrow.

Cosmic Theory du jour...

I try to live every day, and approach every major decision as if viewed from my deathbed and I ask "will I regret NOT doing this??" That translates to some crazy choices and some completely incomprehensible detours in the road, but I need to have that passion and general feeling of "aliveness" that comes with the scent of new, unlimited possibility. I can live with bad decisions, but not wasted opportunity or experiences. That explains soooo much, if ya know me.

See, I think we are only here to experience, not to have or be, just pure, temporal, transient, passionate experience. Sad to think of wasting the opportunity to really feel and live doing something unsatisfying or even soul killing. I can't imagine the awful regret that must grip some people at the end of life, when they realize they have allowed fear and the opinions of others to rob them of vital experience... I won't live that way. Time is damn short here. I would rather walk into a meat grinder than sit and waste a possibility.

Life in the fire.

"From the moment we crawl from the viscera of the womb we are fated to die, destined to return to dust and bone. No alternative. No choice of outcome. Do we cower in anticipation of arbitrary end or embrace fire and unlimited, transient life? That is the only choice. Live in defiance and acceptance of our dying, or live in fear of it. When the end comes I will kiss it full on the mouth and I will say, well lived, me"

Rich Oliver

Peace as an affirmation

I am at peace with decisions I have recently made. Peace in the Chaos. The dust appears to be settling now and I am gaining some clarity and strength of resolve. This is right. This is perfect. I trust the universe to let the pieces fall together now. I will move in faith. I will place my trust in the wisdom of God.

Sometimes it don't look like ya thought it would.

Fortunately, the cosmos is often a better judge of what is truly good for us than our own narrow concepts or archetypal criteria could ever be. God just knows. It's wise to trust that knowledge. I've never asked a sock for it's insight or preferences when selecting a mate for it. I wear what matches. We are God's socks. (Or some kind of paired accessory).

Owning Archetypal Anarchy.. just kidding :)

I was speaking about the interdependant dance of male / female forces couched in a diatribe on general lawlessness and civil disobedience. Yep. That's what I was saying. No terroristism here, unless magnetic animal attraction and general feelings of woosy-love-sickness count as an assault on Amerikan values. Peace, not bombs. Love ya govner.

Owning Archetypal Anarchy

Situationally speaking, now is not a super time to be an anarchist, at least not in cyberspace. Chest thumping and soap box standing is generally frowned upon in this political climate, the cards indicate a trend toward increased scrutiny and regulation of all electronic media in relation to opinion pieces voicing dissent… it’s looking like blogging may carry terroristic implications, especially if in opposition to emerging fascist paradigms. I may be committing a crime here and there. I am acknowledging the consensual, deliberate, focused nature of this offense here and now. I am stepping up to the plate. I am sealing the message with my freedom and, if the situation eventually demands it, my life. I am refusing to play anymore. I don’t wanna. If dissent and active opposition to increasing matrices of control represents an act of domestic terrorism then I am a terrorist. I am a pirate. I am a criminal heinous and vile. I am prepared for the consequences of my future civil disobedience. I mean it. I have little to lose through acting, much to lose (my soul and self respect) if I choose to stand and remain still. It’s time to get getting. Many of these rants have been veiled attacks on prevailing structure and order. I have been couching my absolute disenfranchisement in symbolic syntax rather than being forthright and direct. I think the time has come to be more concise, more clear and infinitely more direct and active in voicing my warnings.

Sometimes subtlety breeds confusion.
Sometimes misdirection leads to diffusion of energy and intention.
Time to focus up….

Impetuousness as a calling

Intuition whispers. Mind formulates. Heart and will implement. To flow seamlessly and synaptically from impetus to reaction is integral to manifestation of fractal creator-impulse birthing into material reality. It is magic. It is alchemy. From undefined fourth dimensional whim to concrete third dimensional, physical manifestation instantaneously…the neuron-like firing of cosmic intention drives forward fractal evolution and facilitates constant, real-time experiential input to and from the individual cell to the collective mind and, ultimately, the creator itself. We are all one superorganism within the intimate body of God.

Be the synapse.

Set it off...piss on the rubble.

He was standing at the rock
Gathering the flock
And getting there with no directions
And underneath the arch
It turned into a march
And there he found the spark to
Set this fucker off

Suddenly a shot
Ripped into his heart
He lay in need of some attention
And there he played his card
Going into shock
The last thing that he said was
Set this fucker off

Jesus at the back door
Everything is all right
All we need is some direction
Everytime the wind blows
Everything you dont know
Turns into a revelation
And it all adds up inside your head
Time is wasting

-Audioslave-

Reptilian Center

I've been wandering too far from my center, strolling too far from the seat of my power. I forgot. I spaced out. I entered something too lofty and ideal for my intrinsic energy to fully integrate. In doing so, I lost my connection to source. I became lost, fractured, unstable and altogether ineffective. I am here for a specific reason and have been assigned a specific range of frequency best suited to my role. I need to regain center. Power, in my case, springs from the lower chakras, the depths, the visceral darkness of suppressed human instinct and behavior. Papa Krok. Reptilian essence. Instinct. Animal instinct. I'm moving back into myself and regaining my essential vision and potency. I feel much better.

Burnin down the house

Negative destruction of dysfunctional structure is essential to overall macro-organic health and often alleviates, through the release of pent up tension, a degree of pressure antagonistic to healthy function. If a relationship is to be salvaged, sometimes it must be demolished to its foundation and rebuilt with care and focus. Sometimes it needs to be left as a heap of rubble and abandoned. Time will tell.

Matching Intensity

Intensity in interpersonal relationships occurs naturally when chemistry is involved; personal, intimate, spiritual, sexual energy. They are all inclusive and of the same origins…The source of all Creation (God). A God’s-eye view of our fractal universe may not differentiate, for example, between the energetic signatures of violence and competition. It is not unrealistic to assume that, viewed from a similar energetic/fractal/vibratory perspective; we are seen as holistic “symphonies” of interweaving frequency. Each aspect of our being (emotional, sexual, spiritual. Intellectual, logical. Material, etc.) forms an essential part of the symphonic whole and lends each of us a unique and easily definable pattern. Failure to integrate all available frequencies and aspects of energetic expression presents a less dense, less structurally intense signature. Fully integrated individuals present dense, interwoven signatures. Density often equals intensity. Intensity promotes acceleration in ambient, as well as individually concentrated, vibrational forms. Individuals with extreme intensity disrupt not only energetic systems within the environment, they are capable of disrupting established structures on a cellular, energetic, psychic, sexual, emotional and even societal levels. Being intense sucks. Kinda hard not to shit where you eat……

Dustmakers can’t keep. I wonder how long I will be required to keep this up?

Urgency

I don't know what is coming, but I feel it in my bones. Huge. Dark. Brilliant and terrifying. The world is changing. I am changing. Soon I will fade into the hills, dissipate into the desert. I can hear the trump lifting to waiting lips. It is almost time now. It is almost time.

Abysmal Thinking

Do I create structure and space to promote and protect a delicate relation, or do I do so to protect my own deep fears of ultimate rejection? Can I survive if I do not run? Maybe I am trying to have my cake and eat it too. I may be left with crusty cake and still feel hunger in the pit of my stomach. I am afraid. And I am running in a different way now.

Pausing

Golly Gee.

A pause, a break, a lull in the lifelong conversation, time and space to breathe apart without the constant interchange of emotion and messages through the heavy air. Introspection. Silence. Waiting for the vibrations to silence themselves between. Thinking. Wondering. Hoping. Praying. Was it real, or sensory overload? Sounds and light bouncing to and from, reverberating from flesh to flesh.

It was real. I felt. I suppressed a giggle. Feeling without words the finer interchange of spirit and heart. It is there. Still. Strong. Piercing in the polite staccato of your voice. In your eyes. In the posture of your neck. I feel anew.

I missed your face.

Pipes

Far off goes
The piper playing
Tunes upon the empty air
Floating gently from the highlands
For me
For me

A jig as lively
As the morning
In the market
Sunday early
Clear and clean
Again its drifting
Cross the heather
For me
For me

This time closer
Still I listen
Not a jig
But dirge on the breeze
Full of sadness
Full of longing
Calling home
For me
For me.

Iconoclasm As Liberation

I examine the edifice, created by my own hand. It is listing slightly left and missing gilded trim about some of the edges. It is worn and tired, the paint chipped and rubbed thin by my venerating hands. I have worshiped there, seeking salvation through the mercy of another, seeking connection to my God, vicariously riding on the excess virtue of a plaster saint. Her smile appears sardonic now, mocking and chiding my naive belief and fervor. She appears transformed from flesh to clay before my eyes. Her light fades in the pale noon pallor. Incense wafts sickly heavenward, masking cracks and crevices of indiscretion. Once there was belief. Once there was faith. Once there was an ideal worth kneeling and pleading. Once there was love. Unconditional. Masochistic. Self depreciating. Humbling. But not now. Not anymore. It seems to have dissipated, like the green smoke before me on the alter, scattered to the winds as empty prayers to unfeeling Gods. I mourn the loss deeply and turn toward the bustling world...in hope of salvation.

So from Maria emerges Sophia.

On Being Bastardly

Sometimes I am a bastard. Sometimes I am not a bastard. As I age, I am more not than so. That said. I have been a bastard recently. Famously, perhaps in my bastarding of late. Dumb bastard. I gotta stop that.

Perhaps my manners will improve to jerk, or douche bag. Maybe aspire to dork or ass hat. I doubt that. I don't know what ass hat means.

For now. Bastard. Captain Bastard. Strike a jolly pose.
And wait 24 hours before emailing
And texting
And try not to talk
Or think too much
Bastard

Oscar Knows

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.
Oscar Wilde

Look my way
Turn your head, a tilted ear
To the wind
Listen in the crowd
Feel my eyes searching
For yours among the plastic poses
Sense your way
To me with your whole
Body and soul
Till the small softness of your fingers
Traces the contours of my face
And you exhale
Recognition

And so it is.

Memory

Faint and ghostly
Echoing
Breathing synchronized
Skin on skin
Warm scent of vodka and cherries
Her taste on my lips
Her breath on my neck

Was it a
dream?

Pray for sleep then.
And never wake.

Never
Wake.

Weighing Paths

To stand firm in the storm and see the colors of life swirl and collide, or retreat to shelter and hear only the frenetic wind outside of an empty, dark room...

The storm is for me. Beauty. Drama. Pain and pleasure. Living. I am alive. BTW I did find my balls, I will be using them from now on. What is to be feared? Is it gonna kill me? What if it does...I'm already dying. Some things are well worth the risk, especially when their absence drains the very joy from life and replaces it with drudgery.

Dance with me again. I won't run this time.

The Kali Shiva-Equation

Kali is the ocean, powerful, beautiful, destructive, dangerous, unpredictable, fertile with life. Shiva is the vessel upon the unfathomable force, attempting to navigate the storm and stress, attempting to remain on course despite the random chaos of the swell beneath. Kali is darkness, Shiva is the light. Chaos and order. Feminine and masculine. Neither may submit, neither may rule entirely. Struggle. Passion. Cosmic fucking. Both forces continually wrestling for balance and superiority, both seeking submission and simultaneous domination from the other. Therein lies the essence of life. Therein is the purpose and drive behind authentic existence. Penetration, submission, yielding and resisting, push, pull, love me-hate me, hate me-fuck me. Kali/Shiva locked in erotic combat, never exhausted, never satisfied.

"To get back to the calm stillness of the Source that is Brahma, both Shiva (masculine principle) and Kali (feminine principle) need to be united or fused together into one single whole, and this is further symbolised by the mutual orgasm reached in their sexual union. Now we can see the reason for the Hindu Lingam and Yoni symbol - meaning that the processes of consciousness - which governs physical phenomena - are in essence the same as the procreative process - the union of opposites."

"My eyes are not eyes, beloved, but arrows of light;
My eyebrows are not eyebrows, but swords for your Destruction."

Sounds a lot like dating to me. Maybe I should just relax into it....

Shiva, we must remember, keeps Kali from trashing the cosmos through patience and apparent submission. I think he does it out of choice, knowing that if he, like Kali, allows himself the luxury of total emotional immersion the very fabric of creation is in danger. Shiva stands for strength of purpose, steadfast energy and a grounded disposition, even when Kali is tearing off his dick and using it to impregnate herself...a sobering thought for any man thinking about entering into a relationship with true femininity.

Saying Goodbye

Sometimes a connection is so powerful and intense that it is actually painful to remain close to it. Though it leaves a gaping emptiness inside, it may be beneficial to sever the connection in order to focus and survive in everyday life. Ironic. The absence of the connection makes everyday life appear lifeless and without color. I wonder what is next? I wonder if I will ever feel that again? I wonder if I want to... connections like that change a person forever, it seems life would have been easier not knowing that something like that is truly possible. Very rare. I may never have that again. Is it really living, then? I suppose if I stay open to the possibility of finding it in the future, then the mystery remains and hope can find a toehold.
I am a husk in the wind. I am a dried reed. Has anyone seen my balls?

The Prayer is Still Good

Outcome supersedes the means, specifically as it pertains to manifesting thought and intention into three dimensional reality. The primal impulse originates within the psychic centers of the individual consciousness, spurred perhaps by movement within the holographic collective. The impulse gains form through distillation into thought and intention. When the impulse is stated verbally, visually or through another expressive medium into actual physical reality, it begins the process of physical manifestation into physical reality. The vehicle is irrelevant. The message appears the same vibrationally regardless of the specific manifestation.

In the case of "right and wrong" modes of manifestation... I have seriously misjudged certain individuals and their intentions because I projected my own internal processes and means of manifestation on to them and extrapolated probable internal processes according to my biased inclinations. I was wrong. The thinking errors are mine. Drumstick or rattle, the prayer is effective.

Dissipation

Things fade...

Situational Schizophrenia

I'm fine, really. I clean my house, pay bills, go to work, cook, pay taxes (not really) and maintain a normal, scheduled life. I shower, brush my teeth, wear clean clothing and appear fairly normal and grounded. Generally I am quite simple, I prefer clean, somewhat reserved surroundings and furnishings. I eat simply. Moderation is my mantra for most things. I don't drink much. I don't smoke anymore. I walk thirty minutes a day and work out three to four times a week... I'm emotionally stable (actually boring if you ask a few exes). So......
Why am I channeling Amy Winehouse? Why did I pay rent late this month incurring a $75 late fee (I have not paid rent late since 2006), walking around on a sprained foot gorked on pain killers, forgetting to show up for a scheduled shift at work, tearing my co workers a new one when they approached me oddly about a shift change, sleeping till noon, allowing my dishes and wash to pile up, not going to bed until 3 AM or skipping sleep all together for days, drinking nothing but coffee for days on end then devouring entire stores of ding dongs and cheese whiz, sending sexually inappropriate emails, writing rambling, Manson-like letters on the back of Jiffy Lube receipts and delivering them after midnight, and acting generally erratic and altogether nucking futz? Maybe I have a lesion on my temporal lobe. Maybe I am chemically imbalanced. Maybe I am experiencing early early early onset dementia. Maybe I am in love.

In the case of the first three possible causes, I would hope to seek professional help in controlling or eliminating the condition. In the latter, I hope I never recover.