Having a Bit of Fun Video A Happy Celebration of Time Shared on this weird planet…

“But how do you thank someone

Who has taken you from crayons to perfume?

It isn’t easy, but I’ll try

If you wanted the sky

I would write across the sky in letters

That would soar a thousand feet high

“To sir [s], with love”



That crazy Godzilla Punk Rock Night Club in Sun Valley is where I first saw GBH’s – Leather, Bristles, Studs and Acne spray painted on the wall.

I was then in search and found the vinyl and became a fanatic. 44 years now for me.

The album City Babys Revenge is one of the best sounds of punk rock! The band and songs are phenomenal. A forty-year celebration. I got the vinyl from Zed Records of Long Beach and played it loads. Yet seeing (Charged) GBH live was just the best experience I had as a young punk bird. They still thrill me as an old crone owl.

A hardy band that still tours around the world and I think they are indestructible. I really do!


A bit of history in front of Perkins Palace Pasadena mid 1980s.


A Ghost Mantis holding a Thyrsus

In Greek religion, the staff was carried by the votaries of Dionysus. Euripides wrote that honey dripped from the thyrsos staves that the Bacchic maenads carried. The thyrsus was a sacred instrument at religious rituals and fêtes.


Light and shadow magic comes to visit at different times in life.

The wind was strong and pushed over my angel solar light. I just got home from shopping as I was looking up at Jupiter and the waxing moon.

I have been changing my routines a bit. I go shopping at dusk now and take my showers in the morning or in the middle of the day.

Taking morning walks is something different too.

When I saw the angel at an angle, I ran to fix it when I noticed the shadow playing on the wall behind it.

I said aloud, “A Ghost Mantis holding a Thyrsus.”

I will let the angel be.

I took a picture and played with the image on Adobe Photo Express.



A lack of human consciousness.

Taken from The Terrible Death Bubble Gum Comic A Flopside COmic.



“The Double does not exist only as an Ahrimanic shadow in individual men. There are members in this Doppelgänger sub-hierarchy of far greater power who act as the anti-spirits of peoples, nations, and races. And finally, there is the World Doppelgänger, the Anti-Spirit of Humanity, which plays its historic role as a servant of Lucifer in opposing the rightful evolution of human consciousness.”

Pg. 291 The Spear of Destiny, Trevor Ravenscroft

Friday night was time to go out and celebrate cause my man was winning a Chess tournament online. Youngest son, my man and I made three.

We went to the local Pub and then bar to celebrate properly.

We played darts at the Pub and had some healthy “Humulus lupulus” while listening to real records. The hiss and scratches and well listened to 45s made the music more enjoyable to me. Soul and ska and other melodies moved through the Pub and lots of hugs were shared.

At the next-door bar, we had some cocktails and enjoyed the slow ambiance of a well-loved bar. Nice and easy with an anime film on the screen. A break from the usual sports in most bars.

As we were finishing up, I looked over to see a man with a beard. Brown and rather friendly looking. We smiled in what I thought was a happy nod of enjoyment. He came up to us as my youngest son got up to take care of business. Then the man walked over to my man and me.

“Not just Jews were killed in WWII by the Nazis.”

We responded with a knowing agreement. Then he went on.

“My great grandfather saved a whole lot of people. Christians mostly and not many Jews.”

Seems this guy was reflecting upon his grandfather and WWII.

“You liberals think it was only Jews. You who voted for Biden and Kamala Harris!”

We then got a little confused and I said,

“How do you know who we voted for?”

Then he addressed me directly,

“Who did you vote for?”

“None of your business!”

We batted that back and forth a few moments.

Then came the flip into a world of conspiracies and insanity when he looked at me and addressed me singularly.

“You liberal voting people think only the Jews were killed in concentration camps. But you are the real Nazis.”

“How do you go from talking about WWII and then accuse me of being a Nazi?”

I then put my hand on the table with a whack. Telling him about how my dad got a purple heart as a captain pilot during WWII.

“I respect that you grandfather saved many lives during the war from concentration camps. Yes, there were all sorts of people who died there, and the people were also saved. Gypsies, Christians, Jewish people, I really don’t think it mattered who you were or your faith. Hitler killed anyone opposed to his belief system of inhumanness.”  

The man with the beard seemed filled with total contrary ideas that made no sense but only served to confuse and attack others who he found offensive. He is one of the ministers of chaos. Who spreads their hate talk.

It was a really sad moment of the evening, and when he told me he did not give a fuck about Iranian women’s demands for freedom I turned my back to him and walked away with hands up.

Youngest son confused him by saying,

“I didn’t vote for Biden.” (Just to see the bearded mans confused expression of an unexpected answer.) And added,

“Thanks for the story.”

Nothing that going to Denny’s didn’t wash away mighty fast…

At Denny’s youngest son was laughing and said,

“I was staring at the tiles in the bathroom and then I walked out, and you were talking to this guy. It was a weird thing to walk into….”

He really enjoyed the people we met last night between the pub and the bar.

These chaos ministers are a part of

WE THE PEOPLE,

They are out there,

and it is something to be aware of,

Even at the local bar.

“Alister Crowley adopted different identities when the mood struck him-and, like Trump, did his best to keep his name in the newspapers-and chaos magick asserts that one’s identity is malleable, that one should “reinvent’ oneself often, play different roles. We should pretend to be someone else, to envision a “magical self” possessing all the qualities that we desire, something that some New Thought advocates also suggest . Chaos magick also promotes the idea of using “shock tactics” saying something “outrageous” in order to “enhance personal power,” something that, as with much else about chaos magick, seems to come to Trump naturally.”

Pg. 76-77, Dark Star Rising, Gary Lachman

Does George Santos ring a bell? He is an manifestation of this  “Crazy Wisdom” of “Chaos magic!”

Seems it is what it is.

In a bar in the San Fernando Valley California to the House of Representatives

bewildering our beloved District of Columbia,

these dark spirits or anti-humans are hanging around,

spreading their chaos, chanting….


“I am the spirit that negates.

And rightly so, for all that comes to be

Deserves to perish wretchedly;

‘Twere better nothing would begin.

Thus everything that your terms, sin,

Destruction, evil represent—

That is my proper element.”

― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust – Part One


sweet and bitter WHEELING AND DEALING


I saw something unexpected today. Billy Idol got a star on Hollywood Blvd. and Mr. Henry Rollins was the presenter. I saw the photograph on a site. Now and then I do like to reflect on my punk rock glory days.


I think upon these two characters that influenced us by their music or words in a big way. I knew them, as many of us did, as youths with deep and high ideals that I once respected.

I met Billy after he left Generation X.

He visited Hollywood.  A group of us youthful rebellious punks were talking about music. We were in the back of a liquor store waiting for some beer because we were not 21 yet. Someone was WHEELING AND DEALING with the booze scheme.  Billy and I were talking about the Beatles and how much he loved them. He then cried on my shoulder stating to me that he missed his mates back home.

The beer arrived and a friend of mine whisked him away and that was the only time I met him. Over the years when I see him or hear his music, I often reflect back upon that sweet young kid who was kind of lost.

Henry was a wild youth too. He was kind of funny and thoughtful when I first met him. Yet as time went on our friendship soured. I think it was due to a subscription to Flipside Fanzine he never received because his letter fell behind my desk. Maybe the critical reviews I did of him in Black Flag were thought to be unfunny. His lack of humor made it easy to accelerate into doom.

Funny how a guy from England and a guy from DC can be standing on the grounds whereas young punks, who grew up here, used to run wild on those same streets. Then no need, or sense of fame or fortune.

Once equals as friends and fans of the punk scene, they got bigger, and we got smaller. Yet I think I am happy with my place in the world, and I hope they are too.

The sweet and bitter is what punk rock left me. As a punk rock fanatic,

That’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise

~ The apartment (by Billy Wilder, 1960)

A reflection of making it through Covid-19 from a more esoteric and psychological perspective.

Eve Tempted by the Serpent

William Blake (1757–1827)

Photo credit: Victoria and Albert Museum, London

“There are two things’ children should get from their parents: roots and wings.”

~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe


“E: I have already uttered the words, The image that I saw was crimson, fiery colored, a gleaming gold. The voice that I heard was like distant thunder, like the wind rearing in the forest, like an earthquake. It was not the voice of my old God. It was a thunderous pagan roar, a call my ancestors knew but which I have never heard. It sounded prehistoric, as if from a forest on a distant coast; it rang with all the voices of the wilderness. It was full of horror yet harmonic.”

Pg. 237 [v.6] C.G. Jung The Black Books.

As a student of esoteric studies, and lay person of depth psychology, I learned about our vital bodies. We have our physical body, our vital body and our desire and mind body. Four bodies superimposed on us as we are awake living our lives.

At night, I have learned, when we go to sleep something amazing happens to us. Our desire and mind bodies disengage from our physical and vital bodies. All bodies are connected by sturdy life threads. Life sustaining.

It is at this time in sleep the physical body is free from desire body and mind body engagement so the vital body can heal our physical body. The mind and desire bodies float above us like balloons on long strings as the vital body does its healing panacea. Assimilating, regenerating, and eliminating is the work of our vital body.

We are like trees, often unconscious, reaching deep with our roots into our earth mother and reaching up to the sun and the cosmos bringing in sunlight. This is when we learn about the wonderful relationship we have with other planets. But mostly our bodies recover from the damage incurred throughout the day by simply living our life.

Having Covid-19 I have experienced the powerful work of my own vital body. It is so important to sleep when one has Covid-19.

It was hard to sleep for me. The pain, the fever, the fear was overwhelming. Yet when I did, I felt like a tree and the power work of sleeping happened. Waking up many times as if I went for a swim. And after such nights when I did sleep, I felt better.

Once I experienced a kaleidoscope of coughing over and over with visions of myself… it was how the world outside of me and inside of me merged. There was a battle going on. And for those of us who shared this battle you know this experience as well.

“The vital body, on the other hand, has no other interest than the preservation of the dense vehicle. By way of the spleen, it specializes the colorless solar energy which pervades space, and by some strange chemical process transforms it into a vital fluid of a beautiful pale rose color, sending it along every nerve and fiber of the body. The vital body ever aims to husband the energy it has stored in the dense body. It is constantly concerned in rebuilding the tissues when they are broken down and destroyed by the powerful onslaughts of the rampant desire body.”

~ THE VITAL BODY BY MAX HEINDEL

The spleen is the largest organ of the lymphatic system. Located in the upper left region of the abdominal cavity, the spleen’s primary function is to filter blood of damaged cells, cellular debris, and pathogens such as bacteria and viruses. Like the thymus, the spleen houses and aids in the maturation of immune system cells called lymphocytes. Lymphocytes are white blood cells that protect against foreign organisms that have managed to infect body cells. Lymphocytes also protect the body from itself by controlling cancerous cells. The spleen is valuable to the immune response against antigens and pathogens in the blood.


Having all the vaccines I chose not to get the PAXLOVID. I don’t do well with side effects.

At this time of the year the veil between the living and the dead is so thin. Dreams are intense yet with Covid-19 my mind is weak. Yet last night I do remember the end of my dream.

I was in a large, lovely field. Maybe the place of my ancestors, Cornwall, England. It was dusk or maybe the sun was just rising. A slight mist was in the air. I was waiting to catch the vampires. I got to see them outside of my body. We stood there all looking at each other and aware.

I saw at least three or four hovering, lingering in this vast open field. I was there to conquer them.

I awoke.

Today I feel much better. I only share the feelings left of a body that battled and won. A sore back and chest. A sore throat that once was tight with heat. And then signs of a cold are slowly disappearing. Fatigued but here to live another day.

I think of all the cowboy fights I watch on my favorite show Gunsmoke. Right after a fight of getting his ass kicked, a cowboy walks up into the bar and orders a whiskey. Then powers it down, walks out and gets on his horse and rides away. No problem!

Reb Kittredge:

I ran into a little trouble this morning. I had to leave my horse back up the trail.

Rita:

If I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I’d say you still had him with you.

~Gunsmoke

Randomness

Today while driving home from shopping. I saw the mail person next door delivering mail. He is rather new. I miss my mail girlfriend who I saw all over the neighborhood delivering mail even during the heart of the Covid-19 pandemic.

This fellow is sweet. He often makes corner turns on lawns and jumps over bushes. The mail man is small with a black beard, regardless he is a welcomed mail person.  

Today I waited in my car as he walked along the path to our home. He stopped to answer his phone. A letter fell to the ground.

He looked over at me and I pointed down with my finger. He smiled and proceeded to deliver our mail. I got out of my car and walked over to the letter.

Upside down on the cement walkway with the newly fallen golden leaves it was singular in its significance. It was a simple personal letter addressed from one person to another.

I thought to myself,

“It is nice to see people still writing letters to each other in simple white envelopes.”

As Mr. Mail Person walked up to me, I nicely stated that I found this and saw that it in fact dropped from his bag.

“I just got cataract surgery on both eyes, so now I see everything.”

Smiling he said,

“twenty-twenty..” As he pointed to his eyes.

“I am glad I was there to see the letter.”

I handed him the message.

As I drove up into my driveway, I began to carry the groceries and put them on my red brick porch, I noticed the familiar smell of cannabis.

I then reflected on the concept of randomness and being there at the right time and place. Mr. nice smiling guy mail person got the letter to be delivered again.

In my neighborhood on Thursdays gardeners work, and trash cans are put out. I am happy to say I was an invisible helper. 

I hope.

This correspondence should reach its destiny.


So, I celebrate this nice synchronicity as words become alive and memories shine.

https://www.eventbrite.com/

As for stories Dad was the best at keeping us kids interested. He had the gift and I guess he learned this from his mother. Who he said left poems on the refrigerator door just for him. Later she had her poems published in the weekly Santa Monica newspaper back in the late 40s and early 1950s.

It was my mom who asked me to never stop writing and always supported my endeavors.

I even fought and wrestled with the Flipside Fanzine crew to get a Poetry Page in Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. Pooch continued the poetry page after I left.


Flipside Fanzine Issues 57 Fall 1988

I love to write and especially love to write poetry. It is a time when magic happens. As human beings we naturally engage with memories, with the cosmos, and our feelings. Also, with those large uncontrollable metaphors like our professors tell us.

I was going through my notes and work and found this chapbook of poetry. I was surprised to see it was completed on the day September 17, 2018.



I will be talking this weekend. September 17, 2022. Telling stories with others. It feels great too to join in this narrative of speakers. At a cool pub. I can not think of a better place to talk. My youngest son told me this,

“Mom I just feel so comfortable in pubs, I dot know what it is but is just feels so good. I can just relax and have a pint. Listen to music and have fun.”

We could be talking about the pubs in the stories from Lord of The Rings to the history of William Blake’s’ family where the pub was so important in their freedom to speak and sing when the Church of England suppressed their views.

To the characters who linger, who come and go and grow from such a pub. Or simply to those who want to relax and hear a few stories.


The Plastic Hummingbird

“Sabrina fair,

Listen where thou art sitting

Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,

In twisted braids of lilies knitting

The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;

Listen for dear honour’s sake,

Goddess of the silver lake,

Listen and save.”

~ Sabrina Fair (subtitled “A Woman of the World”) is a romantic comedy written by Samuel A. Taylor



I recently purchased a wind chime. Well, it is spiral plastic flowers and hummingbirds that hang on the larger arbor of a hanging tubular burgundy flower bush highlighting our back French doors. They are also solar lights at night that are magical to look at. The cats like to look at it and so do I.

I went for a short cool down swim close to the morning, I looked up to see the plastic colorful hummingbirds and flowers spiraling around in the soft cool breeze. It was going to be a hot day. The Plastic Hummingbird sounded like the nice name of a book.

I started to ponder what the book would be about. The many places we have to be. In nature listening. On the computer writing. Looking into a realm of social media or in our mind’s imagination and then the world of our feelings. We have many places to be or focus our attention.

The world of technology is rather new, but we have long lived in the world of architecture, science, and places of another human’s imagination. Films, books, and music are blending all of these realms.

There is also the intuitive realm or magic, faith, and synchronicity.


Whiskey Girl July 2022

The computer being a kind of oracle. Build by codes among codes among coding… computer programming. A vast new realm of communication on all levels of consciousness by conscious humans or the ‘lack-off.’

Later I went for another quick swim to cool off and once out of the pool sitting on my chair under the cool harbor next to my plastic hummingbird, I hear the sound of a real hummingbird. Under the vining vines of tubular flowers and bush, I see hummingbird right before my gaze. Weaving a little back and forth beating wings of 10-15 times per second. I look at the plastic hummingbird and then the living one and realize the contrary nature of life, plastic, and nature. Quickly grasping those things made and invented by humankind and those made purely by nature.

I flash back to a 1954 film entitled Sabrina. Humphrey Bogart as Linus Larrabee is just discovering something called “plastics” in the film. SO much money, collaborating, thinking and creativity yet no sense of how what they created will affect the environment.

Oh, dear me back to the love story.

“Linus Larrabee: Listen, I work in the real world with real responsibilities.

Sabrina: I know you work in the real world and you’re very good at it. But that’s work. Where do you live, Linus?”

Sabrina ~1995


Falling between the healthcare cracks of scary…

“Health care must be recognized as a right, not a privilege. Every man, woman and child in our country should be able to access the health care they need regardless of their income. The only long-term solution to America’s health care crisis is a single-payer national health care program.”

~ Sen. Bernie Sanders

I am feeling very raw and vulnerable now. I have had some health issues. The disadvantages of growing older. I am between the Dentist and the Doctor.

I developed a lump under my right neck. I went to the Dentist, and he declared it had nothing to do with my teeth. Then I had a (CT) scan at Kaiser. The Urgent care team declared it as “the cause and effect” of an infection due to most probably my teeth.

A week or so later I went into ER and about died due to almost stroking out.

I notified my Primary care physician at Kaiser, and he never got back to me. I notified him again and no response from him.

I had a antibiotics test done as advice by the Dentist. I now know what I can take for this infection.

Yet after about 8 days now both my doctor and dentist have not responded. I left them both messages about the antibiotic tests. I also asked for their advice as well as for a prescription. Both did not respond. I also wondered is there a connection between the lump and the stroking out due to this infection?

My simple deduction is this. How difficult is it for a Dentist or Doctor to deduce that by calling each other than they could come up with a plan for me the patient? Does this ever happen? It should.

So now I have a new Dentist I will see tomorrow and have a new doctor. I will make sure that they both have phone numbers from each other. At my strong request.

We all must be proactive with our healthcare. I was failed over and over again. It’s heartbreaking for me to say this but one must anticipate incompetence.

It is unbelievable that I could be so ignored and misplaced due to two professionals who I thought I could trust. I deserve better treatment. They both failed me.

In search of Cat food

“But, suddenly, I viddied that thinking was for the gloopy ones and that the oomny ones use like inspiration and what Bog sends; for now it was lovely music that came to my aid. There was a window open with a stereo on, and I viddied right at once what to do…”

Alex: A Clockwork Orange, Book Anthony Burgess; Film Stanley Kubrick


You know how picky kitties are. So, I have been unlucky. Maybe a small box here and there. Cleaning up kitty barf is often a strong biological rebellion that lets me know something is wrong with the food. Bravely I am stepping out of my cave to places I have avoided … Smart & Final off Milton is one such place.

And though I noticed they no longer play songs over their PA…. Today I had a strange experience! Yes, a strange note or two of weird synchronicities. Usually happening at times when one is drifting. Like me! It is throwing an anchor down time. Similar to editing, anchoring a graphic image on Adobe Premiere Pro. Animation, motion, and a focus in.

And then it came like the big bright bird of pure crystal roundabout meaning. Moments of a song burst loudly over Smart & Final’s PA. A moment that brings my ears, heart, and lips a humming.

“Let the stormy clouds chase.

Everyone from the place

Come on with the rain

I’ve a smile on my face!”

Yes, that song from the film A Clockwork Orange anchored me from drifting. Aligning me with my opus again.

Then silence, only the clatters of the supermarket’s mundane sounds of customers shopping.

Singing In the Rain was the one song that changed my life years ago … how is this possible to hear it for only a moment today as I randomly searched for Friskies Seafood Sensations Adult Cat Dry Food, with Vitamins?

Then at 19 and now at 64… “for now it was lovely music that came to my aid.”

A wake-up call.


Praying Mantis Opus.