Saturday, January 29, 2011
I hear there's hard times coming. There's a bad moon on the rise. It's a hard rain that's going to fall. And it all boils down to weird scenes inside the gold mind.
Voici les temps des Assasins
With those words, the aspect of the complex is entirely altered. The walls have changed colors. The guard dogs in the pillars have been calmed. The eerie voices which once permeated our consciousness are no more. Yet the Black Empire persists. The Muzac Life never ended. In fact, we might say that it has just begun.
Already, the hints of the days to come are everywhere. The books are feverish. The windows wake up each morning with a soft moist film. It's not dew — it's morning halitosis. And thus we see the rumors of a meaningful universe persist.
But all this is beside the point. No matter where you look, everything is changing...
An handful are seeking the Ultimate, but fewer are studying the process. The pilgrim so rarely realizes that the study of the process can help him/her avoid past errors. So many pilgrims already know what they're looking for: it's that signpost labeled the "The Ultimate" or "Enlightenment" just over the horizon; but they don't know how to find it. A list of potential errors may be found in Everyman, Pilgrim's Progress, or the life of Timothy Leary....
I have been studying mysticism, the Gnostic Gospels, and the life of Wm Blake to discern the errors I must avoid, as well to seek which path might be applicable to my life. Once we uncover the proper path, we may break out of the Muzac Life and find Life Everlasting here in this Vale of Tears.
And so on.
It has been written: "Blessed is the man who has suffered & found life." (Gospel of Thomas, 43, VII-XI). It is such as these who have discovered the Holy Ghost within themselves & have found paradise on Earth... That's the story of the Muzac Life — how we can go beyond our sufferings.
Must be the sad love songs on the radio that make me ramble on so....
Because we're looking in the face of the mystery of a cold weather front.
Because Flood Street is one long detour from Main to Robinson.
Because every other day has been Indian Summer.
Because the grass has mono.
Maybe you're wondering where all this came from. This has been written under the influence of a low-grade fever while sitting in the complex's warehouse. This letter acknowledges the possibility of clear day warnings....
'Til then, have good times & beware lizards bearing gifts.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Well, Dharma is true, but he's in disguise.
Dharma wears a jester disguise.
Dharma is your kid brother
who wants to move into your spare room
just until he gets back on his feet.
Some of Dharma is faithful.
Well, Dharma is faithful, but she's flirtatious.
Dharma is your ex-wife
who you never did understand.
She's more than fresh coffee and rumbled sheets.
Her hands define wheat waves on the dance floor.
Some of Dharma is real;
the rest is fiction.
Dharma is a city with Kerouac dreams
and Cassady days.
Dharma is your new lover.
Dharma is a steward flying over the Pacific.
Dharma is ready to pounce.
Some of Dharma is true, but it's disguised.
Dharma likes to play the jester.