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Claudio Ianora

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Blogs by Claudio Ianora

improvements make crooked roads straight but the old ones..
6/22/2011 4:53:49 PM

collection of stories
idaisies

There is a lot of debris hidden amidst the tall daisies growing wild on what- stretching comparisons to the limit, can be defined as the front lawn to my cabin in the bush. I decided to pick up all the combustible material, like old lumber, plastic, clothing, and other somewhat harder to describe materials, pile it all up for burning at a later date. October maybe, if I am still here. I have no Idea! In fact I don’t even know why I am here in the first place. And worse still, I don’t think it would make any sense to me if I where anywhere else, nor is there anyone in this world or the next that can help me figure it out why it is that I feel so and yet I go on.  So often I have reminded the great Geppetto up there that it was a mistake to send me to this world, that I was not ready for it, totally unprepared in fact. And that so I could not be assigned the blame for all my screw ups. But it just happen to be a bright and hot summer day. which I love, and I am in a small field of daisies which I also love and I enjoy particularly being in my usual “deep-in the-bush-summer-outfit” which is, naked except for my black police boots and my ceruleum silk tie with a pink Mickey Mouse.   In summer, when I am trashing about in the bush or messing around my cabin I always wear this tie. If someone happened to come to visit me, I would feel naked without it. It is Fulvio’s tie, the one I took off his neck in the subway in Rome so many years ago and the very same one with which I fought off the devil just recently. It is more than a fashion statement, it is my rip cord. Anyway I go about my useless task in a fairly good mood when, quite unexplainably even for a behaviourist I pick a long stemmed daisy, squat,  lay the bottom of the stem up between the cheeks of my butt  and stand up. Just as I must have expected, it is planted firmly and sticks out in an elegant curve almost a yard out. I am standing in a patch of  clear ground so to confirm visually what I feel I turn sideway to the sun to examine my shadow. Indeed, my shadow has acquired a very pretty long tin tail which tail sticks out almost a yard as I thought, in a nice elegant curve ending in a button like bud. It is a thing of beauty! I am just amazed at the whole unexpected and spontaneous event! I am tickled pink. I move around cautiously at first, kind of road testing it and repeatedly check my shadow, partly to see that it is holding on and partly because it gives me such a simple, unpretentious and serendipitous pleasure. By and by I find that I can go on with my work, do everything I need to do and the silly thing bounces along happily as I go and I am not likely to drop it. What an idea! How did the idea form in my head? Was it there all this time? Perhaps even before the big bang? Like in Plato’s cave of shadows, or did the idea took form in response to the contingent elements and various possible applications. Like I used to wear daisies on my ears in the 60s,  so this is a variation brought about by the fact that I am naked and engaged in a meaningless task while operating in a field of these flowers. So it had the probabilistic tendency to happen right here and only now to deliver a pure, gratuitous and meaninglessly cheerful private giggle to this old useless fool. And maybe not, but however I now have a long stem daisy sticking out of his arse and it is wonderful! There I was, just as I said, in my glorious nakedness wearing only a once upon a time beautiful Italian silk tie, and suddenly, just as the behaviourists claim these things do happen…Like a dumb bird that starts building a nest without a clue yet that she is doing so because she is about  to lay some eggs in it. So there I go, I picked a daisy probably before I knew what I was going to do with it, squat, stick one end of it between my cheeks, stand up, giggle, and way I go happy as a lark for the rest of the day. What an idea! What a silly, useless, stupid ridiculously funny idea! I am so charged up that in time I forget what I am supposed to be doing and in time even that I have a daisy sticking out back there. It is only when the poor thing has wilted enough that I feel the little petal bops against the back of my legs that I am reminded of it and that it is time to replace it with a fresh one. Later I do not even feel the little bops.
 I have been at it for a few days now and often I go to bed at night forgetting that the poor thing is still hanging on. It is when I get up from bed in the morning that I am shockingly reminded of it as I see it laying there decapitated. The poor things just loose their heads sleeping with me! And heck, you know what? I get a kick out of it!
 
 
***
 
 Crazy right? But where one man might feel the necessity to build himself a monster truck  another might get his jollies with a simple daisy. And then,  all things being equal, the one related to a daisy could be assumed to be of a finer character…hell,  noble! I mean I think, even if not so  clearly, that a monster truck’s desirability is established by one’s culture or sub culture and  would be  totally useless in an intimate and private situation, My daisy does not need confirmation but works directly on my spirit.  Of course this is not to say  that I would not have felt very smart had some pilgrim come to this  Priory Of  The  Actual with a digital camera. Better even if Bicycle Dick finally decided to pay me a visit. My hirsute wilderness neighbour has been  avoiding me like the plague  lately. This is a source of great vexation to me. I have no idea why he is avoiding me! When I met this rugged individualist I thought I had lucked out. Someone to talk to way out here! And I looked forward to a long series of stimulating dialogue by the wood stove.  But then I felt the same way when I met Bob and Lissa. My optimism did not allow me to realize that they had been virtually dead for the last thirty years. And like most  I suppose, the deader they are the more active they have to appear, And to be healthy and live a long time is sometime the only purpose of life. And yeah, to own lots of stuff helps. What at first appears to be a struggle to meet the challenges of life and fulfill its grand promises is in fact little ‘Tuts tending their graves and accumulation all kinds of object that are just as useless in death.   Lissa goes at it with the energy and conviction of a 9 year old and If you like to know what it is like to be shot out of  a cannon all you have to do is hitch a ride to town with her.     And then when Ty appeared on the scene and presented himself as a writer, I promptly fell for that one too. It serves me right. Yet long time ago I decided that I rather take the bumps and the lumps than become cynical. So when he invited me to a potluck, though with some misgiving I accepted and I went. It happened to fall on earth day. Ty had prepared little heart shaped cards with different original sweet aphorisms for each guest and according to his schedule  he marshalled all of them out on the lawn, instructed them to form a circle and hold  hands as each one in turn thanked Gaia for taking such good care of us while I, having absolutely refused to participate, had to play the only role that is usually  left for me; The devil. Perched up on a rock I watched  the incredibly naive, puerile scene, and cursed it laughing. Bu then, like the note I left on the billboard, I may be right more times than th average but not always and rarely if ever effective. The M.O. that I have adopted at the end of  WWII when I understood how profligate nature does business, is based on the premise that if I want to have a chance in life to get something right, I must watch, observe and find out what everybody is doing and not do that. Like in my dream, I must likewise wait and see where everybody is going and not go there, go the other way. Yet the emphasis I should have kept present in mind was on  a chance against no chance at all but still only a chance.  Up to very recently I made the mistake of expecting results! So I goofed almost as much as everyone else, but not quite. And as Socrates would say-  I know I am a goof.   Godamn! If anything bugs me more than the hope, faith, the follow your bliss and count your blessing kind of idiocies that  can only thrive in the fields of omission and thanks to omissions, it has to be the  advantage, solace and bullying conviction that people derive from their ignorance and immaturity.  
 Finally  Bicycle Dick did it to me. I am recidivist right? Right! Dick sought my company at first as I sought his. But it was not long that he began   withdrawing.  I tried to compensate by practically soliciting his company at every chance encounter which only made him more elusive. Eventually I felt I deserved an explanation. I tried to locate his den deep in the bush, but failed. I am not a wilderness type; in fact I doubt that I could track a skidder in the bush.  Also, having lived 30 years deep in the forest Bicycle Dick had become part wolverine.  I would start on his trail that went right by my cabin or at the other end of it where his trail joined the dirt road which is where he stored his heavier tools before tackling the steep climb to his den somewhere up the mountain. But no matter where I started the trail would soon split, then split again and so on ‘till I didn’t know which way to go. The wolverine on whom I had pin all my hopes of having some one to communicate and philosophize became intractable.  By and by  I found out that on Sundays Bicycle Dick pitched  for the Boden baseball team so I went to my first baseball game ever.  Dick ignored my arrival and then continued ignoring my presence even though I stood out as I happened to be the only spectator and  front row behind home base.  Yet the old bush denizen who would not normally miss anything in his field of view, appeared to be completely oblivious of my presence. In recompense the rest of it had been a charming experience for me. I watched  a group of individuals of all shapes ages and sexes gather on the diamond and proceeded to split itself in half almost as a living cell would do in order to make competition possible. They happened to be shorthanded. I was invited to play. I had never played and I declined  not because I didn’t think I could compete at the level of an 8 year old girl or the fat old man but because even as a spectator I felt culturally out of place and slightly uncomfortable and also because I did not want to make my mission even more improbable. So I watched for a quite a while and when I finally decided I had been ignored long enough and I no longer  felt any satisfaction would be forthcoming,  I left. As I went by Dick’s bike and gear instinctively I grabbed one of his cycling shoes. No doubt Dick would figure out that I had stolen it. I would be the only suspect really plus I had a motive; a desire to retaliate of being snubbed and to his holding a copy of my book hostage for months. I could not imagine why he would do that but he had not returned to me nor had he left it with Bob, or so I was reassured by Bob.   Now Dick would have to pay me a visit.   He might barge in angry and perhaps violent, but I was really pissed off and so I was willing to risk a punch in the nose for a chance to a clear up the air one way or another. In a city it is natural to ignore and be ignored by people, but when you are one of sixth of the population of a remote area, being ignored and avoided hits close and personal and is intolerable. On top of it I was being ignored by a living legend, the Grizzly Basin’s own mighty Sisyphus!  To make it short, I waited, rehearsed, waited some more then began worrying and getting  angry.  Unable to sleep at about 5.30 in the morning I drove to his roadside depot with the intention of leaving his shoe hanging from a branch and in plain view before he went by and try to forget the whole affair. I had to prevent him taking  off on a 135 km ride over a high pass with only one cleated shoe to buy another pair and at considerable expense all of which he could later claim to have been on my account.
  In fact I arrived there just as he was finishing loading his work tools on the little bike trailer. Christ! It wasn’t even six O’clock! This meant he was going to work and was counting on  a couple hours bike ride to his work site. Whatever belligerence was still smouldering in me was snuffed out at the thought of this old man’s enormous energy and will power. I approached sheepishly with the shoe in my hand, he watched me approach in silence.  
 “ Don’t you want your shoe?”  I don’t remember his immediate reaction because I was expecting a heavy fist. He took the shoe and glared at me then since the window for a punch landing appeared to be closing I began registering his words. “… I am not impressed, not impressed at all!” He growled, “I had the whole team looking for it all over the place!” I realized that the punch would not materialize if I didn’t push it, so I apologized. I don’t remember  what I said because now I was so relieved that I might not be seeing a dentist. He asked me to repeat my apology. I did in a thinking aloud way. I had messed up, no doubt about it and I was sorry. I did not see him for a long time after that nor did I go looking for him. I have moved since then and recently I bumped into him in the town of Phdton. I walked straight up to him so that he could hardly avoid me. We exchanged a few words and then , don’t ask me why, but in public place I reached for his ass and gave it a wishful squeeze.
   But to get back to the shoe incident, after I had returned I felt I had to tell someone my daisy epiphany and so I went looking for Bob to share it with him.  Bob giggled and then quickly warned me not to tell Bicycle Dick about my queers’ delight. It struck me as really odd of him to say that, and I made no effort to hide my perplexity.
 “Dick is spreading the word that you are an old faggot and that you are shamefully throwing your rear end at him ” Bob explained.   Well, I be damned! So that’s what was eating him! I did not know what to think of it  but eventually I found it humorous.
  "That is just great... Just great! Now beside being 135 Km from a good cigar and already a persona non grata in  the fair town of  Boden,  I am an old faggot with a motorcycle gang posse on my tail! "
  "A Posse....How is that? "
  "Well I checked out the bulletin board a few days ago where I saw the community’s appeal to donate for the biker that got hit by a deer..."
  "O Yeah, broke his neck poor guy!"
  "Yes, tough!  But I couldn't refrain to scribble a short note on the page. like:  Yeah, Sorry and all that, but I’d really like to know how the deer made out!       
  It didn't go over very well." 
 But you see there was no mention of the poor deer’s fate at all! And furthermore I knew that it was not a simple slip but a callous attitude to any suffering that is not human suffering. In fact Man has even created a god that reflects his own presumption and prejudice. In the explanatory narrative man’s suffering is a penalty for having offended his imaginary creator. All other creatures’ suffering seems gratuitous and could be ignored.  It would be just a nuisance to recognize and have to justify all the little creatures’ sufferings.  It would also imply that all creatures great and small had failed their creators expectations, how embarrassing! Anyways, man, this poor Narcissus,  has so much favour working against him that he is blinded by it and just can’t sort it out!  So it is that his unparalleled grace  turned him into a monster, his unequal genius made him a fool and his unique self awareness, an alien.   Crazy.
 

 Ty, just dropped by. In this Phd town I have no one to talk  except him but only occasionally, and Sky anytime I feel like. Sky is an alien. No I mean a real alien. He looks exactly like the Fakir I took the picture of in Benares in 1916 I think it was. Actually I think it is him. He doesn’t remember much. Anyways when I want  someone to talk to I go to the café’ where he sits for hours on end writing things in his logbook. Things that have to do with the administration of this corner of the Cosmo.  I have no idea what it is that it is that he  is writing or figuring out because  Sky writes it down in his Alien language which  uses only periods, commas and dashes plus an occasional elegant cartouche. Talking about Dada, experimental or instinctive writing of which I pride myself, justly so or not! Sky is the ultimate. I wonder how long it will l take me to be able to do that. Anyways when I give up trying to decipher what he writing, I ask him, he tells me and the result is the same. Can’t figure out a thing he is saying. Not a jota! Yet he recognizes me as one of them, and he goes on and on as he expects me to understand perfectly  but sadly it is only gibberish to me. I have taken the pain to pay great attention  to him because all I want to know is if there is consistency in his alieness.   I figure that if there is consistency there  must be  intelligence and if it is intelligence  not understanding  it must be that it is superior to mine. At least I have an idea of  what that is like!
   Before I became an old faggot I went by Bicycle Dick one morning, he was on a mountain of logs wielding his mighty axe. He e stopped to say- hello and how are you doing. I generally have no idea how I am doing, it is a complete mystery but on this day I knew I was not doing very well because I had been up all night.
   “Not good!”
   “ Oh?”
   “ I have been up all night gazing at the stars  and realizing again how immensely significant I am...” His whole face puckered up to his lips for another more emphatic, “OH?” He posed a moment then with the same puckered expression he went on, 
   “ I thought it was supposed to be the other way....”  
   “ Yeah it is the effect expected, and most comply... But you see, size in an infinite place is of no consequence ...” 
   So , anyways, I am probably repeating myself, but it could have been fun. nay more than that... We could have turned over new ground.  With Sky I am probably doing it too, but...        

- I have incubated a nasty tooth infection just in time for Xmas. It has proven resistant to amoxicillin, so I had to stop taking it. Dentist not available, doctor doubtful. Neck glands swollen and very painful , can’t even drown my sorrow in my murky green fairy because I am feverish and nauseous as it is. merry Xmas. So I toss and turn, and half asleep half delirious I decide to go with a tooth infection and blood poisoning. It is not choice but what the heck, pharaohs have gone with it. So I do and I have my face off with God Eric would be pleased to know. God is very happy to see me, much happier than I expected ! . So I really let him have it and he laughs and nods in response to my long list of complaints and then, when I conclude by saying that even a stupid fool like me might have had better results he explodes with joy.
. - Ecce homo! He exclaims, finally one who did not come groveling.
I think he is as happy as a god can be and I have another of those taken aback moments that are happening with increased frequency in my old age.. I am nervous as I watch him throw a few of his things in sack and then hear him telling me that I am in charge now. That in fact I am acting God until someone else thinks he can do even better.
- What!!??
- Well that is the way it works. A soon as one stops praying and wants to do something because he firmly believes that he can do better, he gets the chance. I have had mine! He sais swinging his sack over his shoulder and grinning happily. Its all yours now !
- Get back here!
- O no! I have been waiting a long time for this!
- Yeahbut! What am I to do? ,
- Whatever you think you should, you are God now. Ciao! Then I am alone.
- FUCK!
I should not have complained , I should have forgiven Him! I mean, really!..In fact I kind of remember doing it one time or another. Perhaps I didn’t really mean it well enough…
I woke up in a sweat. Got dressed and took off to emergency at four a.m. Xmas morning. That guy up there will have to wait a little longer because right now anything seems better than being top honcho.
I don’t know if this can be of any use to, but if you get the urge to forgive God, make sure you mean it.
 
***
 
 
  The first thing I did when I got trapped into being God was to get rid of the BIG BANG. I so disliked that flagrantly inane and a displeasingly impetuous concept that it made it worth while for me being stuck with the responsibility of being God..
-BEGONE!
I replaced it with the BIG BLOOM!
Now that’s more like it! Isn’t IT? . Of course I don’t even need to tell you that all I had to do was to change the time frame. Slow it down from a human time frame which made it appear as a tremendous blast to a Godly one, which happened to be my unsolicited privilege. Thus I turned IT into an elegant, musically maestoso unfolding.
However what you may not so easily grasp, is that in doing so I have reinterpreted all things or- being God the prime cause, de facto transmuted all. So, whereas a big bang was perceived as the moment when an infinite amount of energy and matter packed into the tiniest unit of space conceivable (God included) burst forth into chaos and then slowly assumed all kinds of forms in an expanding space/time continuum, with the BIG BLOOM - IT (The present Condition) was created from the simplest and the least possible concept by continuously and incrementally adding intuitive folds .
You may not visualize this directly but reverse engineering the universe using the reductionist method but in a devolving rather than disassembling procedure you will not wind up with piles of junk of smaller and smaller pieces as you go, but you will move to simpler ... simpler and quieter concepts. eventually you will wind down to contemplate the source of IT all in It’s simplest duality. ON/OFF, BE/NOT BE, ZERO/ONE! OR YING-YANG if you like with the element of instability implicitly inherent which like the holy spirit provides the impetus of generating infinite concepts and forms. It turns out then that the Creator is omnipotent, omniscient etc. because it is simply irreducible ( hence unstable) and thus must express itself outwards in becoming and becoming.
There goes another sleepless night.
^^^
  I knew what was the next thing I had to do as acting God. In fact I just realized that it was the first thing I should have done as soon as I got a chance. I balked. And now I also know that it would have been be the only thing I would ever needed to do as regnant. To kill man’s second most sacred cow. Kama. I could just see me breaking into Archive 1 and ripping “The pursuit of happiness” out of the old parchment. I have this bad old habit. But what the hell were they thinking? Did they not consider the price? How can one possibly be happy and be just at the same time? unless one is just first? Then it would be superfluous. Such grand foolishness may only go under the heading of: “ Things made possible by omissions”
So I have been procrastinating. Haha! Deus Cunctator! But then what I would be asking would fly in the face of everything that is considered good in life
So, It was this E-mail that got me going…Mission impossible.
On Sun, Feb 14, 2010 at 8:01 PM, karonne wrote:
How do I put this??? Do you think there is any harm OUT THERE? Are there forces and influences that can harm, or if it is all illusion (.) anyway, is there always a possibility of screwing up your mind by opening it up to ideas coming from EVIL people.
I was just watching an educational program called " The Great Sperm Race" In which actors interpret the incredible struggle confronting a quarter of a billion sperms in the performance of their one supreme self destructing task. And I laughed thinking: " Gee, we haven't changed a bit!” The caterpillar and the butterfly are the same thing. Then to answer your questions I thought of Wesley’s (one of them) passionate rejection, which I paraphrase here in lieu of a direct answer, it is paradoxical and provocative enough to be useful:
"To be damned for the things we cannot know !”
IN one of my recent blogs I have suggested that nature does not promote wisdom, on the contrary it considers it as a deadly virus whose spread would threaten its greatest creation. For that purpose, evolution has provided that "Psychological maturity" be arrested in us at the age of 12-14 , that is to say at the age or puberty. All the necessary knowledge, expertise, self esteem, self assurance and consequent bearing are added on in time to the psychological framework of an adolescent so that their prime function may be carried out with reckless vigor and passion. It is easy to appreciate that this can best be accomplished at a stage of development when the subject is not encumbered by a soul well furnished with knowledge and good sense.
Another piece of the puzzle that must be considered here is that just as a man cannot be happy and just, he cannot have a purpose and be free at the same time! That is self evident.
This being so, if man’s is to know the meaning of his existence it cannot be the expression of his will. And the other way around, if it is man’s will it cannot be his purpose.
These, as you said, may be nothing more than mind games, and the source of the inevitable fallacies such as the idea that the mind is meant to do anything other than to persuade you- Little Red Riding Hood- that it is attending to your best interest. That is the ultimate big bad wolf! right? The better to eat you! Yet to be truly evil the big bad wolf would have to intend to eat you just to do you harm! No! I am not prepared to admit that evil is the purpose of life. Or good for that matter! Which would have the knight in shining armor fight the dragon not to save you, but in order to risk his life!... Or does he? How does it go? To seek to save your life is to loose it… and to loose yourself…Mmmh… Something like that.
ACH ! What a confusion I make. I will Go to bed and start all over tomorrow… MAYBE.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow… Oh I give up!
And YES DAMN IT! Yes, evil exists! Out there, in here, and is in total control everywhere! It has given us a body drugged - a brain bamboozled. It has addicted us to pleasure, love, dreams, hope and all kinds of sweet delusions. Finally this perfidious genie has DIVIDED and segregated us so that the pursuit of our own pleasure brings us and those with whom we have bonded and give and share our pleasure in conflict with others compelled by the very same desire and conditions. Evil is uncontested, it is regimenting us, and firing us up with passion which leads us into fiercely heroic and bloody campaigns whereby its nefarious mission is advanced no matter which side prevails. And it does all this by the simplest of stratagems! Promising us happiness and investing us with righteousness and frm in our belief that the pursuit of happiness is our God given right, That indeed God rejoices in our happiness! Where else but in hell could we have obtained such conviction? Somehow happiness ( or the means to it) is dealt as a commodity , something one is justified to fight and to kill for. as if it were an object, a territory.
And NO DAMN IT! I Cannot prove intent! So far as I know it is only “I, human” that can do evil or good! Which makes me not only unique in nature but a Demiurge trying unsuccessfully so far to work my way up to demigod and ultimately to Godship. TO SHIVA! Yes, yes, YES! I want to Be the Dancing one! With the third eye as bright as the noon sun, blinding kama and finally reducing it to ashes! Then only, when I have destroyed desire, I shall be free!
Is it any wonder that we are procrastinating?
That to err is divine temptation?
That we doggedly strive to make of this our perfect hell?
NO! The mind “game” will go on, until either will or purpose will be laid dead.
ps. I uploaded the following and went to bed. But I got up twice, read it. Not completely happy with it (ugh!).
delete or not delete?...
I can fix it!
delete it or fix it then ?
those are my choices. But those are my choices if I don't want to look like a fool! How foolish.!
Back to bed.
 
 
***
 
As acting God, I will then march kicking asses - Every Sabbath charlatan, starting with my favorites, all the way to the Sick Children’s Hospital . Yeah! As acting God I could do that! I would be known as the Lotus with a thousand kicking boots! The Shullers, ah sweet tearful Swaggart, icky-oint Chopra, Barby doll Pope Benedict and the Dodolai Lama. And I will command them to perform for Me – God, their Lord is love Rah-Rah routine in a ward of suffering and dying children. Alleviate even if a tithe their pain and terror or match the same uplifting effect on this congress as what they weekly achieve with the pampered affluent in the ostentatiously choreographed splendor of their temple stages Or I swear I will make them all dumb and blind just as they should be. Explain to me your Lord why I should not be able to help a child that cannot be helped by anyone else in the world? Explain why I should let even one innocent child suffer! Indeed , you God damned idiots, why should even a mite or a worm die in pain? Goddamn phony bastards! Yet I would be partly faking my Acting God indignation, because though I despise all those who preach, they are not the problem. Dim witted and lazy people are happy to settle for mumbo jumbo theater rather than even think of venturing into intractable and admittedly unproductive territory of metaphysics. 95% of people (according to the movie : “ Contact”) believe in an ineffable, inscrutable, intractable Deity who created this whole mess. 95 PER CENT! Can You believe that? Of course to my way of thinking this impressive statistic should be interpreted as a strong indication that the Deity they believe in cannot exist precisely because they so firmly and almost unanimously believe in it. And in no way, as long as I am Acting God will I allow a world , not even a small world, not even a small principality up on the tip of a hill on a small world, to be unanimously right about anything. The whole goddamn thing would rock and fall somewhere, Sir Gamateus would be out of a job and even God- irrelevant. And that would be that. It is imperative and ultimately the only condition for this Chaos to achieve a spark of purity which might ignite the whole cosmos with a redemptive light that this intolerable situation be maintained if not even exacerbated in order to provoke one! One soul, one mind one sentient living entity, one impatient disgusted being even to burst! So it isn’t that difficult for me to understand (finally) Why I should have been chosen and not a Galahad, Ttristan or someone even purer, Bush maybe… no, Hell No Reagan! But no, It makes sense that the task, the greatest of all quest in fact should fall upon a quixotic bungling fool whose only outstanding quality is not any of the classic noble values but a doggedly GoDamn all attitude that would balk at nothing. Not death , not Hell, Not God!
Sir Gameteus! TATAAA!
That Is why all religions- so far as I know- totally fail to put into text the unexplainable and unacceptable tragedy of a helpless suffering child. Faith thrives only in the fields of omissions as I said. Not one enlightened man, not the compassionate Buddha, not sweet loving Jesus not Christ, the Roman Superman . Not Socrates, not the Tao. No religion or philosophy has ever attempted to deal with a single case of a 5 or 6 year old child being destroyed by cancer! It means that we have found no conventional logic or any other means to deal with it, and that therefore both religion and philosophy have so far no legitimate role to play in man’s quest to fully complement creation! It appears that we must look elsewhere or at the same scene but with carefully averted vision.
Why must there be suffering? Pain! A child’s pain alters the value of time. The cosmos’ grandeur is reduced to blowing irrelevant litter. The Universe recoils in shame! And reason, reason asphyxiates in a miasma of meaningless prattle.
This is not a job for the great tradition, not for the hero, the pure, the saint, the redeemer not even for God. It is the job for the biggest most arrogant, unyielding fearless son of a bitch ever. One that just can't take it anymore... No! One that just will not take it anymore ! ....
...As I was saying: The job for One that just will not take it anymore !...
Hey, good idea! We should have a "We won't take it anymore! " day. Maybe a couple of billions could synchronize perfectly and yell out… " We won"t take it anymore!" That may register somewhere, it might be observed somehow…- hey look there! - Might look cute even!
But no, I kind of liker the idea of a little old man up on Mount Niut, maybe. Hopeless yes but still undeterred, having one more go at it. Hell, you never know! And actually it makes no difference whether anything or anyone notices it or not. I am up there all alone and I am telling the other half like it is: “I WON’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”
So there!
 
 
 
 
 
 
The first thing I did when I got trapped into being God was to get rid of the BIG BANG.  I so disliked that flagrantly inane and  a displeasingly impetuous concept that it made it worth while for me being stuck with the responsibility of being  God..
  
                 -BEGONE! 
 
 I replaced it with the BIG BLOOM!
 
  Now that’s more like it! Isn’t IT? . Of course I don’t even need to tell you that all I had to do was to change the time frame. Slow it down from a human time frame which made it appear as a  tremendous blast to a Godly one, which happened to be my unsolicited privilege. Thus I turned  IT into an  elegant, musically maestoso unfolding.
  However what  you may not so easily grasp,  is that in doing so I have reinterpreted all things or- being God the prime cause,  de facto transmuted all.   So, whereas a big bang was perceived as the moment when an infinite amount of energy and matter  packed into the tiniest unit of space conceivable (God included) burst forth into chaos and then slowly assumed  all kinds of forms in an expanding space/time continuum, with the BIG BLOOM -  IT  (The present Condition)  was  created from the simplest and the  least possible concept by continuously and incrementally adding intuitive folds .
 You may not visualize this directly but reverse engineering the universe  using the reductionist method but in a devolving rather than disassembling procedure  you will not wind up with piles of junk of  smaller and smaller  pieces as you go, but you will move to simpler ... simpler and quieter concepts.  eventually you will wind down to contemplate the source of IT all in It’s   simplest duality.  ON/OFF,  BE/NOT BE, ZERO/ONE!   OR  YING-YANG if you like with the element of instability implicitly inherent which like the holy spirit provides the impetus of generating infinite concepts and forms.  It turns out then that the Creator  is omnipotent, omniscient etc. because it is simply irreducible ( hence unstable) and thus  must express itself outwards in becoming and becoming.
 There goes another sleepless night.
 
 ^^^
   I knew what was the next thing I had to do as acting God. In fact I just realized that it was the first thing I should have done as soon as I got a chance.  I balked. And now I also know that  it would have been be the  only thing I would ever needed to do as regnant. To kill man’s second most sacred cow. Kama. I could just see me breaking into Archive 1 and ripping “The pursuit of happiness”  out of the old parchment. I have this bad old habit. But   what the hell were they thinking? Did they not consider the price?  How can one possibly be happy and be just at the same time?  unless one is just first? Then it would be superfluous. Such  grand foolishness may only go  under the heading of:  “ Things made possible  by omissions”
 So I have been procrastinating.  Haha! Deus Cunctator! But then  what I would be asking would fly in the face of everything that is considered good in life
 So, It was this E-mail that got me going…Mission impossible.
    
 On Sun, Feb 14, 2010 at 8:01 PM, karonne wrote:
 How do I put this??? Do you think there is any harm OUT THERE? Are there forces and influences that can harm, or if it is all illusion (.) anyway, is there always a possibility of screwing up your mind by opening it up to ideas coming from EVIL people.   
   
   I  was just watching an educational  program called " The Great Sperm Race" In which actors interpret the incredible struggle confronting  a quarter of a billion sperms   in the  performance of  their one supreme self  destructing  task.  And I laughed  thinking:  " Gee, we haven't changed a bit!”  The caterpillar and the butterfly are the same thing.  Then  to answer your questions I thought of   Wesley’s  (one of them) passionate rejection, which I  paraphrase  here in lieu of a direct answer,  it is paradoxical and provocative enough to be useful: 
  "To be damned for the things we cannot know !”
   IN one of my recent blogs I have suggested that nature does not promote wisdom, on the contrary it considers it as a deadly virus whose spread would threaten its greatest creation. For that purpose, evolution has provided that "Psychological maturity" be arrested  in us at the  age  of 12-14 , that is to say at the age or puberty.  All the necessary knowledge, expertise, self esteem, self assurance and consequent bearing are added on in time to the psychological framework of an adolescent so that their prime function may be carried out  with reckless vigor and passion.   It is easy to appreciate that this can best be  accomplished at a stage of development when the  subject is not encumbered by a soul well furished with knowledge and good sense.     
  Another piece of the puzzle  that must be considered here is that just as a man cannot be happy and just,  he  cannot have a purpose and be free at the same time!  That is self evident.
  This being so, if man’s  is to know the meaning of his existence it cannot be the expression of his will. And the other way around, if it is man’s  will it cannot be his purpose.  
     These, as you said, may be nothing more than mind games, and the source of the inevitable fallacies such as the idea  that the mind is meant to do anything other than to persuade you- Little Red Riding Hood-  that it is attending to your best interest.  That is the ultimate big bad wolf! right? The better to eat you!  Yet to be truly evil   the big bad wolf  would have to intend  to eat you just to do you harm!  No! I am not prepared to admit that evil is the purpose of life. Or good for that matter! Which would have  the  knight in shining armor fight the dragon not to save you, but in order to risk his life!... Or does he?   How does it go? To seek to save your life is to loose it… and to loose yourself…Mmmh…  Something like that.
    ACH ! What a confusion I make.  I will Go to bed and start all over tomorrow… MAYBE.
  Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow… Oh I give up!
   And  YES DAMN IT!   Yes, evil exists! Out there, in here, and is in total control everywhere!  It has given us a body drugged - a brain bamboozled. It has addicted us to pleasure, love, dreams, hope and all kinds of sweet delusions.  Finally this perfidious genie has DIVIDED and segregated us so that the pursuit of our own pleasure brings us and those with whom we have bonded and give and share our pleasure in conflict with others compelled by the very same desire and conditions.  Evil is uncontested, it is regimenting us, and firing us up with passion  which leads us into fiercely heroic  and bloody campaigns  whereby  its nefarious mission is advanced no matter which side prevails.  And it does all this by the simplest of stratagems!  Promising us  happiness  and investing us with righteousness and frm in our  belief that the pursuit of happiness is our God given right, That indeed God rejoices in our  happiness! Where else but in hell could we have obtained such conviction? Somehow happiness ( or the means to it) is dealt as a commodity , something one is justified to fight and to kill for.  as if it were an object, a  territory.  
 And NO DAMN IT! I Cannot prove intent!  So far as I know it is only “I, human”  that can do evil or good! Which makes me not only unique in nature but a Demiurge trying unsuccessfully so far to work my way up to demigod and ultimately  to  Godship. TO SHIVA!  Yes, yes, YES! I want to Be the Dancing one! With the third eye as bright as the noon sun,  blinding  kama and  finally reducing it to ashes! Then only, when I have destroyed desire, I shall be free! 
   Is it any wonder that we are procrastinating?
 That to err is divine temptation?
 That we doggedly strive to make of this our perfect hell?
   NO!  The mind “game” will go on, until either will or purpose will be laid dead.
 
  ps. I uploaded  the following and went to bed. But I  got up twice, read it.  Not completely happy with it  (ugh!).
delete or not delete?...
I can fix it! 
delete it or fix it then ?
 those are my choices. But those are my choices if I don't want to look like a fool! How foolish.! 
  Back to bed.

...As I was saying:  The job for  One that just will not take it anymore !...
 Hey,  good idea!  We should have a "We won't take it anymore! " day.  Maybe  a couple of billions could synchronize perfectly and yell out… " We won"t take it anymore!"  That may register somewhere, it might be observed somehow…- hey look there! - Might look cute even!  
  But no, I kind of liker the idea of  a  little old man up on Mount Niut, maybe. Hopeless yes  but still undeterred, having  one more go at it.  Hell, you never know! And actually it makes no difference whether anything or anyone notices it or not.  I am up there all alone and I am telling the other half  like it is: “I WON’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”   
 So there!
As acting God,  I will then march  kicking asses - Every   Sabbath charlatan, starting with my favorites,   all the way to  the Sick Children’s Hospital . Yeah! As acting God I could do that! I would be known as the Lotus with a thousand kicking boots! The Shullers, ah sweet tearful Swaggart, icky-oint Chopra, Barby doll Pope Benedict  and the Dodolai Lama. And I will command  them to perform for Me – God,  their  Lord is love  Rah-Rah routine in a ward of  suffering and dying children.  Alleviate even if  a tithe their pain and terror or match the same uplifting effect on this congress as what they weekly achieve with  the pampered affluent in the ostentatiously  choreographed  splendor of their  temple stages Or I swear I will make them all dumb and blind just as they should be. Explain to me your Lord why I should not be able to help a child that cannot be helped by anyone else in the world? Explain why I should let even  one innocent child suffer!  Indeed , you God damned idiots, why should even a  mite or a worm die in pain?  Goddamn phony bastards! Yet I would be partly faking  my Acting God indignation, because though I despise all those who preach,  they are not the  problem. Dim witted and lazy people are  happy to  settle for mumbo jumbo theater rather than even think of venturing   into intractable and admittedly unproductive territory of metaphysics. 95% of people (according to the movie : “ Contact”) believe in an ineffable, inscrutable, intractable Deity who created this whole mess. 95 PER CENT! Can You believe that? Of course to my way of thinking this impressive statistic should be interpreted as a strong indication that the Deity they believe in cannot exist precisely because they so firmly and almost unanimously believe in it. And in no way, as long as I am Acting God will I allow a world , not even a small world, not even a small principality up on the tip of a hill on a small world,  to be unanimously right about anything. The whole goddamn thing would rock and fall somewhere, Sir Gamateus would be out of a job and even God- irrelevant. And that would be that.   It is imperative and ultimately the only condition for this Chaos to achieve a spark of purity which might ignite the whole cosmos with a redemptive light that this intolerable situation be maintained if not even exacerbated  in order to provoke one! One soul, one mind one sentient living entity, one impatient disgusted being even  to burst! So it isn’t that difficult for me to understand (finally) Why I should have been chosen and not a Galahad, Ttristan or someone even purer, Bush maybe… no, Hell No Reagan!  But no, It makes sense that the task, the greatest of all quest in fact should fall upon a quixotic bungling fool whose only outstanding quality is not any of the classic noble values but a doggedly GoDamn all attitude that would balk at nothing. Not death , not Hell, Not God!
 Sir Gameteus! TATAAA!    
That Is why all religions- so far  as I know- totally fail to put into text  the unexplainable and unacceptable tragedy of a helpless suffering child. Faith thrives only in the fields of omissions as I said. Not one enlightened man, not the compassionate Buddha, not sweet loving Jesus  not  Christ, the Roman Superman . Not Socrates, not the Tao. No religion or philosophy has ever attempted to deal with a single case of a 5 or 6 year old child being destroyed by cancer! It means that we have found no conventional logic or any other means to deal with it, and that therefore both religion and philosophy have so far no legitimate role to play in man’s quest to fully complement creation! It appears that we must look elsewhere or at the same scene but with carefully averted vision.
  Why must there be suffering?  Pain! A child’s pain alters the value of time. The cosmos’ grandeur is reduced to blowing irrelevant litter.   The Universe recoils in shame! And reason, reason asphyxiates in a miasma of meaningless prattle.
 
This is not a job for the great tradition, not for the hero, the pure, the saint, the redeemer  not even for God. It is the job for the biggest most arrogant,  unyielding  fearless son of a bitch ever.  One that just can't take it anymore... No! One that just will not take it anymore ! ....
 
He lied to me, the  emperor lied to me!  I could hardly believe it. I went away kind of satisfied about the explanation but then i started malling it over. And  what would not go down was that bit of injecting some verve, loyalty and preferably fanaticism into the blood of the empire. But hell!  The early christians would accept martyrdom for them and their families rather than fight!  They went to their death singing like it was a festival !  That extreme dedication to their belief, that fanaticism was precisely what he must have considered so dangerous to the welfare of the society. So if you can't lick them, join them. In this case, persuade them to join. Paul got the message on the way to Damascus. I never studied that part of this historical phenomenon, I was only concerned to glean out of  that smorgesborg of Nicea, the true Jesus. I knew from the beginning that before Jesus, religion in the greco roman world, was a matter of trying to influence one's horoscope by propitiating one god or another or a combination of them, there were many choices., After Jesus though this playing the odds was no longer possible because he brought to the forum an idea so radical  that upon examination proved impossible to evade. People then, were forced to choose one way or the other. He had brought a sword into the world. Be perfect, he said - you must die and be reborn of the spirit.  -you must hate this life- heaven is within you and all of this in the here and now. The kingdom of heaven is spread before you. That is why the young man who had a rich life walked away greatly troubled.  Jesus preached the- thou art that  here and now! This life was not a stage, this was it. And in a world where life was brutish and short, this proposition caught on. By it they were transformed, and this awesome transformation, the power it gave them to overcome their deepest emotions and fears inspired others   to embrace this overcoming, this  transcendence of one's natural physical condition and despair. After Nicea, Martyrdom went out like a light almost.
  Still interesting though, how did some of these radical ideas survived? There must have been a faction among the bishops who must have fought tooth and nail to preserve the original doctrine, and these sayings of Jesus were included in the gospels to appease them, but it was too little, and the old and less demanding propitiatory custom prevailed with the addition of  yet another intercessor. Jesus/ Christ the saviour. It was like a password to the better place, all you had to do according to the Niceans, was to believe that he was the password to that better place.


encounters
Meeting with john and emperor constantine


And because I had finally recognized that mortal things do not befit a mortal as Pindar sang, they are his moira that stultifies and defeat him I was inspired to do something to commemorate the event. I was camping on a beach and what was at hand were rocks! So what came out of it was  an upsidedown drunk anthropomorphic Eskimo kerns with his mucklocks  kicking gaily at heaven.*
 It was hilarious beside being emblematic or at least symptomatic of my recalcitrant ways and as I was about to leave I whished that someone could take a picture of it for me. And (with me wonders never cease) here comes synchronicity in the person of Messer John Macfarlane in a canoe on one of his legendary trips to nowhere for lack of better reason heading straight for it to take a picture . We talked and by and by he asked me how we might fare in the afterlife. -Nothing doing then! too late! this is it! I told him, - It is here and now-heaven and hell spread out before you.  You make it here or you have never been, period. Look not yonder. This is the crucible. Here you can forge yoursef into Zeus or be turned to slag.  How can anyone think that all this is but a divine playground, a hobby or an experiment.  Nossiry! this is it. this is the all or nothing event of becoming and knowing it gives you the power to choose.what it is going to be for you and affect the whole shebang in the doing.  It  is like a main switch has been provided. It is big, big magic,  yours and mine. Click!
   All limitations gone! The only act of omnipotence!
   You see when you are, when you are anything at all you are that and nothing also. The void and only the void, is the state of omni-potentiality. anything or everything.  The so called state of becoming and I can't describe what it is like, because it is the moment of truth...the Tao. But I can tell you that it requires an act of true faith and that when you have that kind  of faith you are virtually omnipotent.
 Yeah, limitations, that what it is all about, you can have them on or  off. Nothing is lost potentially all is gained. So what if you have to give up a dubious and miserable reality. Something that is in effect like those dreams one does not recall in the morning! They are not lost because I do not remember dreaming them, would it then matter  had they been sweeter? Had they lasted a few R.EM s  longer? All I can say is that if they happened they did so to serve the moment or to fail it.  So does life, with only one major difference, Now that I am ON, the off switch is available to me, this entitles me . Apart from this, I  is but a label on a ephemeral event, part of a humongous fractal process to which I am  but a swirl fading in the distance.  Folly, especially willful and brave folly, evades the thresher. Everything else goes to the granary where the seeds with only their mathematical code-links in them have been  planted and reactivated for another season and another try.  In  “The Logbook O The sea Of Cortez”, Steinbeck points out how tremendous a premium nature places on this perennial and bounteous recycling. He gives credit to the sea hare as being the most prolific of sea creatures in it that it reproduces four hundred millions offsprings in her lifetime, or maybe even- in a season. I am not sure. In either case this clearly must be taken as an indication that nature can do no more than provide for the best possible odds and that the rest is up to us. in Jesus' words: be ye perfect- or he who loves this life looses... he who rejects it etc, By the way i talked to Constantine about these inconsistencies because  often wondered how they could have evaded his sharp discernment, or is mom's. I said Tino... Ach no, I said: -My divine emperor. How is it that  these contradictory statements evaded your sharp judgement and found their way in the sleek and pragmatic presentation the bishops cooked up for you?  
- Not at all in fact. I imposed those on them, these ideas tickled my intellectual fancy and my mother agreed that they should be included  just in case they proved valuable to some exceptional future philosopher or theologian.
-Ach, That is simply wonderful, thank you! I just could not see how they would have slipped up on such radically controversial propositions.
- yes, in fact they objected heatedly, they pointed out that including them would lead to confusions among the faithful. I retorted that for confusion to occur one must first provide a mind, and that we were not confronted with a problem of that sort. Anyway, in  fine I had my way and as you can see I was proven right. Mindless people are predictable, and all I cared about, as you may suspect, was their heroic mindlessness of which they were obviously capable  to infuse some fresh vigor  into my anemic empire. I was wrong on that point of course. It did not help, once a social cycle is on a downswing the historical remedy is war against a neighboring society and as it happened  I was not aware of any that were worth the effort...  
And in P’yongyang, we are marching. 

TRIPLE LSD 
I met my friendly  dealer at the Internet caffe’,  he was anxious to know how I made out with my first experience.  I  sent him a copy of  my written report to read and I got busy getting confused with a computer next to him.   When I finally gave it up he asked me about my triple dose experience. I told him that It was good material for a story and I didn’t want to tell it before I got it down in writing. I assured him that it was funny .  Things have a tendency to  go that way with me. He then pointed to the computer screen and told me that he  had just read the story of the single dose effect and that it sounded like a hell of a good trip to him. It made me laugh because it reminded me of  Bicycle Doug ‘s reaction when I told him that I drew a complete blank  from the small fortune of magic mushrooms that he had supplied to me. I also explained that the same thing had happened to with Marijuana in the late fifties and again many years later and ditto for Amanita Muscaria.   Doug puckered his mouth like he was sucking through a straw. He does that when he is doing some deep thinking, plus he scratched his head,  his beard   and  then even  under his arm,  which is also the technical part of his thinking  process  and then with it completed   and -I am sure- having  considered what I had written all over  my cabin and my outhouse inside and out and also my copy of “The Sint” ,  he arrived at a reasonable  if not  strictly clinical diagnosis and  pointing an assertive his finger  at my forehead he  said that- You know, things may be so high in there in their natural state that the damned stuff can’t reach it!  
 Of course By that story alone my friend dealer could not be convinced, which finally prompted me  to  get at part 2 . Before I do that, I thought I should tell you  briefly a bit more about my own reactions to my previous experiments with mind altering drugs. I remember being puzzled at the Marijuana hype long ago  and how I felt really surprised when I finally got enough courage to eat a small pie wedge-like of a beautiful  red  six inch cap of Muscaria. I Expected to be sick  and I am rather susceptible by nature so I was doubly surprised when being not only prepared but also predisposed to the  rather unpleasant  side effect I was spared it and denied the other part. Undaunted I tripled my dose. Same difference.   With the rest I made mushroom risotto.  For years now amanitas have been part of  my summer diet. Sometimes they are so plentiful that I slice them thin and hang them like Carl used to do, to dry them and use them off season, the only thing I must be careful about  is the crossing of borders. In Revelstoke One day I found a whole beautiful bunch of them on the grassy  median  right in front  of the  Home hardware store. Aand as I was eagerly collecting them, a gentleman approached me and conscientiously warned me about these being a well known  poisonous specie. And that was not the only time.  I like to add that  the L.S.D.  1   failure turned out to be a wonderful experience for me , and just now  I am going over the notes that I  scribbled in real time on the margins of  the book (wouldn’t you know!) “THE LIVING BRAIN” by W. Grey Walter.   
 11 am   First dose ever.  - ---------notes following  notes following notes and then a really  unexpected note!
 2.15 pm.  Hungry!
    Funny, Teresa had told me to eat  a good breakfast before starting because later the thought of food might not be pleasant and the actual stuff may look disgusting. But gee, I could eat a horse! 
 3 pm.  It is confirmed  beyond any doubt I am starving , I am looking for a horse!    Luckily none around. So I make myself a Swiss cheese sandwich. I use my golden ratio, One third bread, one third cheese and one third unsalted cultured European  type butter. With it a nice glass of California Franciscan Burgundy  and I get back to my post.  I check everything out again  as I start eating to see that nothing has changed while I was in the van, and everything is the same,  and I realize that I have felt this way innumerable times and came to the conclusion that nothing in the world , substantive or abstract could have been  added to make the experience, the ease, the pleasure and the synthesis and the sandwich and the wine any more perfect.  At 77 free from libido and love this is it! Oh Yeah , I have become one year younger just recently. I met Jim the other day, he is about my age, in fact a year older . Oh yeah !   Got to throw this in it too! We don’t meet very often and so usually  it is long enough between to forget each others’ names. So one day I proposed and he agreed that when ever we meet instead of quickly rummaging up there I should simply say “ Hi Claudio to him   and he should respond by greeting  me by his name”  Would work wonderful at parties where To me everyone there would be named Claudio and every Claudio would call me whatever their name happened to be. Anyways I haven’t been to any parties lately but it works really well with me and jim. Oh Yea, so we met and by and by he asked me how old I was. I said 78 because I remembered being 77 the year before and 76 the year before that and so on I have no idea how many years back. But Jim wrecked it  like a house of cards with a simple mathematical operation. He is 78, and was born in 32, so being born in 33  I could only be   either 76 or 77, but ( Quantum aside) definitely not 78!
Well gee wiz, I was so happy I could have kissed and blessed him. You see I thought I was likely going to be late for my big appointment or maybe even default altogether. This is still possible but as of the other day I stand a good chance of leaving ten years on the banquet of life for the poor.  It was- I had decided 7 or 8 years ago-   the minimum amount that would give adequate meaning  and honor myto my proposition to overcome  death by sacrificing ten years of life, and as good as possible a period of  life as I could deliver.   Now thanks to Jim , I had time to get in good shape again and deliver the full price as I intended  in order to deserve the greatest prize. I Came close to failure again recently, very close according to doctor Connaly, but according to doctor Robinson  prediction of my life expectancy  declared to me 7-8 years ago I am now  right on track sgsin. Ye ah, I have made an attempt to add two years to my sacrifice up on Mt Niut , and failed, but then it is possible, and I like to believe probable that I still had things to do. So anyways  I will now proceed with my LSD 2 and then I shall be a free man in good shape.
 Where the hell was I? I hate reading my own stuff. … mmmh.  Oh Hell! I had breakfast, late as usual. But By 12-15 pm I was at my post. The weather had improved –ah that is relative, anyways the sun dominated ,  no wind, a few summer clouds, the lake calm, a silver platter on which the day’s  before scenery was  tuned to a brighter contrast, only the cumuli over the Thor and Odin mountains where still hanging about isolated and seemingly posing no threat. I brought all the pillows down-  and I have accumulated a lot of soft duck and geese breast pillows over two years… but then one can never have too many soft pillows in life, actually and metaphorically, So I piled them up on the sand against the old log , took my clothes off and  laid down on them. Like the Eucharist I placed  my three little squares of pass partout under my tongue for a few minutes , then I started chewing  and salivating them.  
 I had done a lot of observations the day before and so I thought It would not be necessary for me to do another inventory, plus I was on a triple dose so I just relaxed like a beachcombing Nabob on all my pillow, closed my eyes and absorbed my father’s tonic  rays.  2 hours into it, I decided to avoid a paternal scolding and put my clothes on again. I was in a relaxation mode, no expectation , just quietly waiting for something to start happening and to  just become effortlessly aware whenit did . By that time the sun was  straight up over  my eyelids which  were luminescent  and I started noticing a hue of red that so far as I could recollect, I had never noticed before. I never  bothered to check the time, but I knew that it most have been some hours since I had consumed the little squares. I was hopeful. Not long after I had convinced myself that I had never before on a similar sunny day  had  Iever noticed   that particular hue of redness. I  also noticed that  whereas  initially the color was diffused evenly   Now some  forms where beginning to take shape. It was encouraging.  I focused my mind on those rather indistinct shapes and in a little while they became more defined. Eventually distinct enough that I thought I recognized them. I continued my observation of them and finally and then  alas- with finality I concluded  that I was looking at the most perfectly shaped and beautifully  red colored jujubes.
  60 dollars worth of jujubes?!! COME ON!  Still I would not give up.  I waited. There is got to be more than that!  Patiently I concentrated on what definitely looked  like  a pile of jujubes with- eventually I reflected wisely- a chance of a sun stroke. By then I was also very hungry. All I had conjured as a vision was a bunch of jujubes! My thinking now was: 1  I am hungry. 2- I have been at it with the endurance and zeallike I was waiting for the second coming. 3- the  jujubes  had acquired a definite character of permanency and exchangeability.  4- I was stuck in jujubes!
   I looked at my watch, I had been at it for over 6 hours. I did not close my eyes again. I did not want ot see jujubes.   I took my pillows dumped . them in the van and took off to the store ten miles away. I met Millie. – I hear you have been sick! she said . we had a little chat. They were getting ready to close. We parted and I rushed to the bins. Jujubes…jujubes.. where the hell are you? I found them,  I gawked at them like a kid. They were not the same. They will never be the same as in my vision.    I decided to sleep in the parking lot. I reclined on my bed with my head against the large window and yeap! It is the season. All I needed was some flies stuck inside and yearning to get out. I know what I will be doing for the next hour or so. With my shot Glass to the rescue!  Some are beyond being rescued they are so small. They are as small as the smallest comma and To trap them between the window pane and the shotglass is easy, but to slip a prepaid  telephone card in between so to trap them and transport them out to freedom is almost impossible without injuring or guillotining them.   So I name the smallest one NIETZKY, or Freddy. And I rantle and rave at him as I go about freeing the others. They are all zig-zagging up and down in a frenzy. They are barely visible yet I feel and I recognize their angst when in a hight of despair or in being disturbed by a big house fly  they decide to ram through the invisible barrier knocking themselves silly. And when Nietzky resort to that,  I chide him and yell at him, and curse at him “ the will to power Freddy, use it damn you!“ Yeah the Overman! THE OVERMAN IS THE ONLY WAY YOU STUPID  S.O.B.! And you can’t be the Overman on this side of the glass! IT’s the other way! Where it is darkest, where you feel is  most frightful dragon ! Into the dragon’s mouth Freddy!  That is the way of the Overman , there, where it is naturally most abhorrent for you to think of going, there is the prize.
 It was a heck of a day. I won’t even bother reding this thing. CAVEAT LECTOR. I changed my mind,  did  some corrections, my apologies. 
 P.S.  Friedrick could not have meant will to power over others!  So He was confused too.
 

#
L.S.D. 1, altered state ?

By Claudio Ianora
Last edited: Friday, September 03, 2010
Posted: Saturday, May 01, 2010
This short story is rated "PG13" by the Author.
 
       
 
 
 
minutes of first trip
   
I have taken a dose of L.S.D. for the first time in my life. Following instruction I had breakfast and found a comfortable spot on the solitary sandy beach facing a vast panorama of lake, mountains, snow peaks sunbursts, clouds et all. Could not have chosen a better day or a better spot. I am expecting a parade of Acid induced strange or at least unusual experiences.   I have been keenly observing for a couple of hours now every forms, colors, contrast etc in my field of view in order to assess and record the minutes of my initiation to this altered state. .. But no, after hours of watching and feeling I have to conclude that I have been experiencing a painter’s delight kind of day perhaps more vividly than usual on account of my intense attentiveness and expectations. I have examined as perhaps never before all nuances and features of the clouds , large and small , bright and dark . I have conscientiously observed in depth all thing that struck my eyes. The bright bursts of light here and there, the gigantic white wave   breaking ever so slowly over the mountains to the north. The splattering and splashes of tattered smaller dark gray clouds and the sprays of sunlight reflecting off the  wind ruffled surface of the lake which alternately appear   like a flock of birds of pure light which squirt through the pupil and get caught like brilliant diamonds on to the occipital screen. On the opposite shore the hill that is closest to me is hazy against the diffused brightness except as it rises steadily out of it so that at the top its line is strongly silhouetted i n a Vandyke brown like color forming what really looks like a hog’s back. Dark and solid its humps stand against distant shafts of light revealing  breaks in the tumultuous cavalcade which being low and close to the vanishing point are hidden to view.   There are so many shapes and they vary so much in the intensity of color and brightness. They go from Nickel’s patented somber dark bluish grays or, oddly enough it occurred to me,   disturbingly glaucomic. like the opacity of theTV screen when the set is off. And then there are brilliant almost intolerably pure white thin sheets of vapor filling in the spaces between the heavier clouds.   Suddenly one of these dark wanderers obscures the sun and the mood changes abruptly. The flock of pure light birds disappear and the wind swept surface of the long winding lake is chilled in shimmering gray schist like tone which the moving waves transforms it before my eyes into the scaly skin of a giant snake. The enormous monster is moving,   Slithering steadily northwards towards Mount Thor and Mount Odin . These great mountains are still buried by the static fury of that humongous wave which I am inspire to read now like the score of an orchestral fortissimo. I hear and see blinding blasts of brass, billowing luminous rising choruses , pinkish flute sustained notes   counterpointing the more bombastic somberness of horns cymbals and drums while at a more perpendicular angle, up above me, isolated pure cerulean notes pierce through and ascend soprano like out into the serene yonder. By their extraordinary singularity they directs my peripheral visions  to acknowledge with great resolution the ominous stampede   of gigantic dark   Jurassic notes . Now I feel this is overwhelming me and something kin to panic urges my mind to pick out of a the whole enormous and threatening score a single clear point of contrast on which to anchor itself as it feels about to be swept away or trampled by this wildly turbulent flood of sensations. And so my sight is mercifully snagged and clings fast onto the dark curving hump of the hog’s back and focusing intensely on it, finds stability as this most solid and stable feature against the oblique light squalls and surrounding turbulence, rends the tremendous turmoil and placates it somewhat. As I hang on to it with relief and steadily keep my focus I am surprised to suddenly  notice coarse hair on the hump of the hog’s back and coarse hair that is sticking straight up just as the hair on the back of my own neck is immediately electrified to do the same sending  chill down my back. Then just as shockingly  every sense melds into a jolting charge of energy which is apprehended finally as a solipsist special moment. It is- I recognize quickly, a peremptory   declaration of the dominance of the final cause that hit me as a blinding explosion  which by revelation consumed and annulled   completely all that had appeared to be real or natural up to that moment ! 
   But what? WHAT ? WHAT DAMN IT! And in the momentary vacuum created by my anguished suspense a sound I heard ! It came not from out there as a cloud shattering booming voice one may be led to expect but strangely at the same time from a deep and yet immediate within,   Echo like! A recent recollection… A feeble   yet so distinct and a tender a word that stunned me with its absolute clarity and significant simplicity and its transcendent meaning instantly embedded itself   in the purest   amber of the mind forever complete and perfect , one sound. The sound of a stirring babe.
   And yeah, I know it is not hogs hair , and they were not birds of light and this huge shimmering snake is a lake and the dinosaurs.... Well, I am not having an L.S.D experience but a very normal if much reflected upon experience on a picture perfect afternoon all by myself . Author and spectator.   On a solitary beach.    I might have achieved the same effect snipping a tiny square off a 20$ bill and chewing on it for a couple of hours and   none would have been the wiser. But I won’t give up yet as I had to do eventually with Marjy, Amanita Muscaria and magic mushrooms. I bought six little squares of strange paradise. So I am planning a triple dose.   
 
 
 
   Oh That Dog!
 
   This guy, entrepreneur and adventurer, with a big dugout canoe on his front lawn.  I have driven by his place lots of times wondering what that huge dug-out canoe was doing there.  Eventually I found out that he had built it and paddled it all the way to Hawaii thinking of money and fame but somehow wound up getting neither.  So he scaled back his entrepreneurship to the pre-great dream level that had proven dependable and satisfactory in the past; odd jobs and small deals. One day he went to visit an old man who lived on what was left of an old farm, which was a small lot with the old farmhouse and barn on it. In good time he got around to tell the old man the reason for his visit. For a share of the profit he would take down the old barn and sell the hewed timbers and the nicely weathered boards at a very good price.
    - Would you like that?
    -Sure! 
    -O.K. Great!   
They shook hands. The old man went back to watch TV and the entrepreneur got down to business. He had done this before and he had brought along all that he needed for the job on the back of his old pickup. What he did first was to walk around the barn inspecting the exterior. This did not take long. Next he inspected the hayloft and found it empty and clean. Then he got to work.  A couple of ¾ inch sheets of plywood served to block the hayloft door. After that he strapped and screwed the big double barn doors nice and tight. He would do the same with the small door at the very last minute. He then raked what straw and hay littered the floor in the center of the barn,  connected a garden hose and hosed down a good part of the interior and for good measure the old man’s frisky young dog who was enjoying a bit too much all the unusual activities.  When everything and dog was dripping wet, he fetched the dynamite, fuse, caps and string with which he hung the bundle from a beam at the approximate center of the barn’s interior. He chased the stupid dog out, shot the small door, took a good look around and finally when he was satisfied that everything was in order he lit the fuse. Unhurriedly he walked out, shot the door and proceeded to screw it good and tight.  He was power driving the last 3 inch wood screw in when he caught a glimpse of the damn mutt heading to where the bottom of a board that had been chewed out enough so that the mutt could crawl in and out. He had missed it. Angrily he  yelled at it to scare him off, but the dog’s head was already in and when then the guy screamed at it again  the dog quickly scrambled in the rest of the way to safety. Or so the dog thought.  There was nothing to do now. The man quickly put some distance between himself and the barn.  A couple of seconds later the barn exploded.  Dog notwithstanding, it went off like a charm. Nearly all the boards and shingle had blown off and the boards lay in a neat radial pattern in the center of which appearing out of a cloud of steam and smoke rose the frame, elegant as a Greek temple and intact. Not a sign of the stupid dog. The guy stood there scratching his head for a minute, and when he turned to look towards the house he saw the old man at the door scratching his head. Without saying anything he jumped in his truck and took off. Fifteen minutes later he came back with a bottle of expensive scotch and went into the house. 
 - Damn good job you did there! Just like you said, but I had to see it to believe it.
 - Well...Yes, that is the good part. Then there is the not so good part.  He responded sitting at the table and pouring the scotches.
 - What part is that?
 - I blew up your dog! 
 This stumped the old man for a second.
 - GOOD!... The old man exploded happily slapping his knee.  Damn thing… was nothing but a nuisance. A stupid good for nothing mutt!
  - Good!  Lets have a drink!
     They were through most of the bottle and related stories - when they hear a scratching at the door.
     THERE IS THE DOG!
     NO!
  They stare at each other and at the door in disbelief. Then there is another scratch and a hardly audible whimper.
    -It’s the dog alright!  He must be hurt bad. 
    - Oh that dog!
   When they open the door the dog slinks in sideways wagging his tail, his body, his head and anything he can wag but apart from looking like he had just had an expensive punk hairdo there appears to be nothing wrong with him. Nothing physical anyways, but oh that inimitable dog-guilt looks that in this case had to try to match a hitherto unrecorded reaction!  He had been told not to! Twice he had been told! But he had gone ahead anyways… and he had blown up the barn somehow. Or worse still, he had witnessed the unimaginable magnitude of man’s wrath!
   .

  I think I have died and gone to heaven! The problem with heaven is, as I suspected, that there is no one here, It is beautiful but I have no one to share it with. O well, I have been selfish so it is my proper punishment. Anyways this is one of the reflections about this place. It is the most perfectly charming cottage you can imagine. A love nest straight off the illustration of a fairy tale but with the beautiful princess missing and nowhere in sight! (thank goodness). To be more mundane, a twenty first century gingerbread house with all conveniences out of a big super special box from Ikea! Warm, cozy and welcoming , with a crackling fire, the fragrance of fresh brewed W.F. coffee and as I write this, the divine Callas (dead too) sings out of this electronic jewel box- “Casta Diva” for me.
    Death must be a joke.    Sketch it , or scatch it –I thought to myself- But where to start and how? The obviously accomplished journeyman who built it, and did so with more love and care than nails or screws must have wanted to concretize in pine, cedar, stucco and glass, his oneiric fantasy and so, how am I to then reduce it to simple lines? How to penetrate his secret and why? Even to try would be an injustice to him, and to me, an exercise in exposing yet again my frustrating limits of subjective art. So let me describe what I see in words as best as I can and then you put it all together in your imagination as it corresponds to your limitations. Part of the building  walls an windows are based on  two thirds of an hexagon base upon which rise the four isosceles triangles of the cathedral ceiling. This makes up the modern kitchen and dining area. On the south side where the two hexagonal parts are missing the building then opens up into a larger rhomboid or trapezoid parallelepiped  area partly on the same floor level –this being  the entrance or foyer I suppose and partly on a two steps upper level- which comprise the living room cum fireplace,  and finally  the sleeping loft suspended above the entrance hall overlooking al the other geometrical features of the place. There are skylights and stained glass windows here and there, Bow windows , nooks, angles everywhere avoiding as much as possible the square angle which Rudolf Steiner has banished from the anthroposophist culture ( with some cause I must say)  but to the consternations of framers.  Indirect lighting of course and at the vertex of the four isosceles triangles which compose the high apse-like ceiling, a fan. I always wanted one of those! To finish everything off, I have a large bathroom and a state of the art laundry room.   
   Ah sing of me Maria, sing of poor me in such an unearthly place…   I feel quite a bit like the old man at the end of his 2001 Odyssey, when he pulls up a chair to sit to dinner all alone and the chair’s squeak bounces around in the hollowness of his place as do his memories inside his head. The memories of life, memories of a great journey that has led eventually to a place that is the state of onlyness.    Ah I know how to make it less hollow! more real or believable… I will fix the screen door! Screen doors should (on earth at least) slap shut and make that typical cottagey sound that brakes the sleepy silence of early morning in cottage country.
    And the best perhaps is that this is a place where dreams have overlapped. I love it when dreams overlap! Like the initial dreamer has moved on and this nice young Czech couple have moved in with their dream. They have built a statement of their fantasy which is considerably larger and more modern but still a vestigially traditional nest. That they are way out here speaks volumes about their psyche and it is reassuring to me. At first impression, he strikes me as a mix of stereotypical pragmatist of his origins with a  modulating pioneer spirit and a  straight shooter, which a beat-around- the- bush reprobate like me can only admire. She appear more inclined towards the muses’ softness. She said to me that she hoped I will like it here and stay. This by my plumb that has to go deeper than anyone else’s, I mentally reconstructed it to myself as - I hope I will like the me that will be stimulated to emerge in this setting. I should know in a couple of months. The only problem I have anticipated so far is not the remoteness, I like solitude, and I think it is proper for me to cultivate this characteristic at this time in my odyssey, but that it is a dead end road. There is something constricting about a three Km cul de sac,  and I do enjoy  my walks. But I like the stimulation of variety and this means that my walk will be pretty well the same every time but even more worrisome is the fact that there area couple of habitations on this stretch of road, and I am as sure that there will be dogs there as  I am sure that they will be the barking kind of dogs...
     No dogs! I went for a walk and no dogs or cats barked at me!   This cabin must be Maya! And I am thinking that if this cabin is an illusion and the whole world is an illusion where or exactly in what element is located  this thing that is dreaming of a cabin? Or since I pay 350 mayas a month, and the proprietor has a laboratory in the basement of his castle, is it possible that I was lured here because doctor Frankenstein wants to do some experiments on me?  I am a drifter, no family, no friends, right?  Yes! I am just what  he needs  to kick start his A.I. machine. He needs to upload  the content of a living brain in it.  So they invite me for dinner in his beautiful  manor and they engage me in a polite conversation on topical themes appropriate for the occasion. I am polite above all so  I make sure that I don’t spoil the light and elegant mood  by straying on the heavy subject of the purpose for my being there. So he sounds me off, and he is satisfied that I seem OK as intelligence goes, maybe a bit quirky, but nothing major that he can’t  adjust  later. If it works he will be rich and famous, maybe gain control the world. When he is satisfied that my brain will do(poor man) he has his charming wife slip me a mickey in my cabernet-cabernet and the rest you know. What the neo doctor Frankenstein does not know, is that I am the last bodhisattva come to save my kind… I have no idea why we still presume that all the other kinds can go to hell, that only we are worth all the fuss! Mboo?  Anyways he soon realizes his error. He gets the content of my brain in his machine and he finds out that my brain has evolved  a H.K. (Humma-Kavula) Program, which is unknown and which he cannot control. It is of course the Supertranscendental-Inteligence-drive  that has evolved through countless generations of self sacrificing atmans, bodhis, saints , martyrs, paracletes and a couple of whores and  is indispensible as it is un-tamperable if  my mission is to succeed;  To end all strife and to begin the prophesized  illuminated dispensation of love and peace in total knowledge for ever. AHHHHHH!  He is ruined! If that happens his invention is worthless!   What is he to do ?
 Well I  don’t know and I don’t care, I have to play house now, catch you later.  cheers!
 
 The chip
 
   Eric came home with a tiny 1 Gigabyte chip. I was amazed!
  Speechless  I held it gingerly on the tip of my fingers  and raised it like a Eucharist and at that moment all!…  All and everything became doubt. 
 That night I could not sleep. I had to sneak down the stairs to look at that demonic little marvel. I did that three times. The third time I took a small box of wood matches, emptied and padded the inside little drawer with a paper tissue, placed the chip in the manger and then I- the king that had missed the first coming so long ago, got down on his knees and worshipped the new born. 
 
  The chip
 
   Eric came home with a tiny 1 Gigabyte chip. I was amazed!
  Speechless  I held it gingerly on the tip of my fingers  and raised it like a Eucharist and at that moment all!…  All and everything became doubt. 
 That night I could not sleep. I had to sneak down the stairs to look at that demonic little marvel. I did that three times. The third time I took a small box of wood matches, emptied and padded the inside little drawer with a paper tissue, placed the chip in the manger and then I- the king that had missed the first coming so long ago, got down on his knees and worshipped the new born. 
 
 


this may be a copy


Last night, a bright star gazing night it was, for summer, and an insomniac. I tried to confirm through my senses what the mind had declared the last couple of years, that : - I am as good as all that if not more. Couldn't quite. Just not quite. But then later that morning, I did manage to fall asleep again, and I did it all over again in a dream. And it was wonderful! In it I went out there, stood on the same spot I had stood hours earlier and looked up but instead of the familiar parade of summer constellations I saw a chalk board brilliant. It was all lit up with sparkling algebra, ablaze with it! I could not understand it but I was overjoyed because I knew what it meant. It was revealing its soul in a universal language. It made me think of Russell's paradox, you know the antinomy case that something is but and only if it is not. And as soon as I thought of it, I saw it everywhere among those equations and formulae. Everywhere! Everywhere I tell you! The God principle! Life! Time and Space... Why... Death itself! -Death where is thy sting? Echoed the question like a laugh through my mind and the answer came clear as... -well the sting is there alright, death has not lost it. It is there and it is as effective as ever but only as long as we are successful in avoiding the unavoidable day in and day out. Shit! Then I thought of Toynbee whot had stumbled on a great paradox - things that are because they are not and vice versa I believe. The Buddha -he said- could not exit into Nirvana once he had it within his grasp, because to do so would have been selfish and thus negated it. And then, on a variation of it, he suggested that by piling up superlatives of divine but contradictory attributes on to God had the effect; that of making Him a monster. And all kinds of related thoughts moved in pressing as a crowd at Macy's boxing day sale! It was all falling into me like the Perseids that up to now though -I must say- have never failed to disappoint me. -Hell and chaos can be perfect! Screamed one mental headline! Whilst another claimed that Heaven could only be the realm founded on stupidity. God here too, was in this binding paradox. He could only appear as a burning bush, or something not in the nature of God, or else, the moment he would appear of his true nature he would simultaneously disappear... hell! Ditto for me in reverse. Death again... I was in a frenzy of paradox applications and of under the spell of Ars Magna up there on the universal chalkboard, when out of nowhere come two scholars who are jumping out of their skins about the algebra up there and vividly... hell! ebulliently congratulating Eric who apparently had just uploaded it up there on the big board. I was dumbfounded and jealous. Eric?! And to make it worse Eric took it all very calmly hardly paying attention to those two and the fuss they made about it and completely ignoring my peevish distraction.
Now I have more pieces of the puzzle. Does more puzzle pieces make less of a puzzle?



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More Blogs by Claudio Ianora
• dripping dead - Tuesday, September 27, 2011
• tally [ho!] - Monday, September 26, 2011
• nobody writes to the strange one - Wednesday, September 21, 2011
• amplitude - Tuesday, September 06, 2011
• caducetor - Tuesday, July 26, 2011
• logion 77, join in! - Saturday, July 23, 2011
• foisted free will and derivative choices. - Wednesday, June 29, 2011
•  improvements make crooked roads straight but the old ones.. - Wednesday, June 22, 2011  

• love amoral- death the gateway to divine reward - Tuesday, May 24, 2011
• Gameteus; - Tuesday, May 17, 2011
• A good Time To die [does the universe have a purpose!?!] - Thursday, May 12, 2011
• man's greatest intellectual achievement - Monday, May 09, 2011
• seeking teachers - Thursday, May 05, 2011
• missing the obvious - Sunday, May 01, 2011
• retooling - Sunday, May 01, 2011
• big bang is no brainer - Sunday, April 10, 2011
• Bradley Manning vs National Shame. - Thursday, March 10, 2011
• scum - Saturday, January 29, 2011
• flummoxed 1&1/2 - Saturday, January 22, 2011
• surviving mexico 3 - Friday, January 21, 2011
• surviving mexico 2 - Friday, January 21, 2011
• surviving mexico - Wednesday, January 19, 2011
• Brhama dreaming - Friday, January 14, 2011
• Priapus medicine and mad sciences - Monday, November 29, 2010
• back to olympus! - Monday, November 29, 2010
• on omissions, 2 - Wednesday, September 15, 2010
• on power, 2. - Thursday, September 09, 2010
• Pit 2. To piss or not to piss - Saturday, September 04, 2010
• On Faith - Wednesday, August 25, 2010


She Lives! The Return of Our Great Mother by Judith Laura

The return of the divine embodied as female on diverse spiritual paths is celebrated in this Third Combined Edition of She Lives! The Return of Our Great Mother, which includes myt..  
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