“Absurdity is the new sublime. The good news is that, while other resources are dwindling, absurdity is multiplying and flourishing and filling the earth.”
MICHAEL FOLEY The Age of Absurdity
Today while at the barbershop…. I had an argument with a man. He is about my age, with two kids who are both going to college, and he was well spoken.
My general impression of him was good as I listened to him talk in the barber chair next to me.
Yet the talk became political. He likes Trump because he says he is a “strong man!”
We disagreed back and forth… later I reflected on what is a strong man?
The dictionary gives these definitions!
“Noun, Plural strong·men.
1. a person who performs remarkable feats of strength, as in a circus.
2. a political leader who controls by force; dictator.
3. the most powerful or influential person in an organization or business, by reason of skill in the formulation and execution of plans, work, etc.
I would agree with the first two about Trump. Yet the last is not Trump.
I think Trump is a projection of self-made lies and propaganda. He is a man who has a negative influence in our country, he has bad organizational skills, sucks in formulation and execution of plans, work etc.
For example: His insurrection failed, and he did not win the last election. The cases against Trump are numerous!
Trump is a circus act, a wannabe dictator who is not the kind of strong man we need!
I think strong men are responsible, compassionate, and true to themselves… yet they don’t have to amplify their malicious maleness in a way that belittles women or anyone.
A strong man has empathy, trust, intuition, and emotional connections with others!
And this is Trump Achilles heel…. He lacks the ability to have empathy, so he has no aptitude of intuition or emotional connections with others besides what serves his corrupt ego. His psyche is bleak and thick with zilch. He only shows us scorn and lacks the ability to give or receive goodness.
Uncouth buffoon!
I don’t see what blocks a average man like him, at the local barbershop, from seeing the truth about Trump. It is profoundly absurd.
“…who tolerates, which is intolerable; who is kind, which is cruel; who understands, which is beyond comprehension…”
― Edward Albee, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
The irony…. Oh the irony…. When love is not around to liberate us?
The case of the small mushroom men and their scab of a leader!
TRUMP’S ECONOMICS ARE “ECONOMIC STUPIDITY.”
“But my dreams, they aren’t as empty As my conscience seems to be I have hours, only lonely My love is vengeance That’s never free.”
“Prometheus” is a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, in which the character of the mythic Prometheus addresses God (as Zeus) in misotheist accusation and defiance. The poem was written between 1772 and 1774 and first published in 1789 after an anonymous and unauthorised publication in 1785 by Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi. It is an important work of the Sturm und Drang movement.”
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Cover Your heavens, Zeus,
With cloud vapor
And try Your strike, as a boy
Beheading thistles,
Against oaken tree and mountain height;
You still must leave me
My Earth standing
And my hut which You did not build,
And my hearth, home’s glowing
Fire which You begrudge me.
I know of nothing poorer
Under the sun than You gods!
Indigently You feed
Your majesty
On proffered sacrifice
And breathfuls of prayer.
You would starve to naught
If children and beggars
Were not such fools full of hope.
When I was a child
That knew not its way in the world
I would lift my deluded eyes
To the sun as though out beyond it
There were an ear to hear my complaints
A heart like mine
That would take pity on my oppression.
Who came to my aid
Against the Titans’ and their insolent rage?
Who delivered me from death,
From slavery?
Was it not you, sacred heart ablaze,
Who achieved it all?
And, swindled in your youth and good will,
Did you not glow, with thanks fit for a Savior,
For that mere Sleeper on high?
I should honor You? For what?
Did You ever gentle
The ache of my burden?
Did You ever dry
The tears of tribulation?
Was I not forged to manhood
By Time Almighty
And Eternal Destiny,
My masters and Yours?
Perhaps You believed
I should find life hateful,
And flee to the wilderness
Because not all my blossom-dreams
Reached ripeness?
Behold
Here I sit, fashioning men
In my own image,
A race after my likeness,
A race that will suffer and weep,
And rejoice and delight with heads held high
And heed Your will no more
Than I!
The poem was set to music by J. F. Reichardt, Franz Schubert (see “Prometheus”, 1819), Hugo Wolf (1889) and F.M. Einheit (1993).
Jupiter-Uranus Conjunctions in History, with Richard Tarnas
“Active imagination refers to a process or technique of engaging with the ideas or imaginings of one’s mind. It is used as a mental strategy to communicate with the subconscious mind. In Jungian psychology, it is a method for bridging the conscious and unconscious minds. Instead of being linked to the Jungian process, the word “active imagination” in modern psychology is most frequently used to describe a propensity to have a very creative and present imagination. It is thought to be a crucial aid in the process of individuation.”
“Enslave me and I am a dangerous enemy; command me and I will make you mad; give me life and you will die.”
― Patrick Harpur, Mercurius: The Marriage of Heaven and Earth
Individuation
I am having a challenging time with this Mercury Retrograde. So, I decided to take some skills I have learned over the years with “active imagination.” I did engage in communication with the planet on various levels. As a planet, an intellectual being (very Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,) astrology and astronomy.
I came to an interesting dialogue with the simple ideas of; don’t force things, go with the flow, and enjoy reflection with an awareness of what lessons are essential to learn.
The most interesting thing came the next morning when my geophysics son explained to me how things move in space.
When rockets leave the earth, they do not travel in a straight line but in a circular one even a spiral. And gravity in space can be used as an advantage or as a good kind of disadvantage in space travel.
Again, he told me some things about Mercury, the closest planet to the sun. I did not realize that it is smaller than our moon and of course has no moons of its own.
Mercury based on Mercurius, that is a lot to learn here, is always open to this type of intelligent awareness and dialogue. You should try it. Be astounded by Mercury Retrograde’s curious responses.
Wild flower in my garden comes forth singing Coyote’s song…
Does it seem braggadocio to say that I am no longer searching.
Blake, Jung and The Divine Comedy no longer guide me? All the religiosity I have learned pales in comparison to what I found within myself … nature, mother father God … the medicine wheel, praying mantis, Dionysus.
The mystery is accepted! Creativity and the simple things in life guide me.
I still have ambitions and needs which inspire me but it is different now.
All the emotions play now… a compassionate nature almost crescendo at times … but passes.
The archetype of the success of the alchemical work was the androgyne, the balanced co-mingling of opposites. As we have seen, Ariadne’s own animus is activated positively, while Dionysos himself, blends the features of both sexes, along with being in positive relationship to the Earth Mother and the feminine. Each thus represents a balance of masculine and feminine within themselves and together they form two wholes in harmonious union, rather than two incomplete halves to one whole. Ariadne, a whole, rather than half, psychologically illustrates the Jungian goal of Individuation.
Aguilar, A. Marina. Alchemy of The Heart: The Sacred Marriage of Dionysos & Ariadne . Chiron Publications. Kindle Edition.
New category for posts that concur with the many film-doodles I do.
Film Doodling by Hudely Flipside
It is the creative endeavor that is real and mine to share.
I love my garden and am so close to the ways of nature. Yet as a human being I endure the other man-made things. It is a life I was born to. Yet I think we can learn the power of nature by listening and hoping for the best to inspire us to be better human beings.
I think there is a relationship with how nature is and us in general. Our feelings and emotions.
Yet often even though nature speaks to us we don’t listen.
As I am a listener and follow the ways of ancient traditions I like to share.
Creatively embracing and helping for a better world.
Wild ways, music and nature are how I endure and so it goes.
Trusting my insight and foresight has been a struggle for me. Often, I let others push me off my mark due to facts and figures that oppose my observations.
A current adventure with our internet service and adjourning phone line is my issue today.
I’ve been paying the same amount since we set up the service. I then noticed September’s bill increase by about twenty dollars.
I called my service to ask why in August after I got the bill. It was explained to me that the company decided to up an overall five dollar increase to all their customers who use their phone service. This of course increased many other things. The dynamo increase of those pesky taxes too.
So I nicely had the phone taken off our plan. I talked to a nice representative and technician who did the work and told me that September’s bill would decrease, and I would pay less.
I told the representative,
“I only receive robot calls from the same companies and scams. I then must play the nasty game of telling them I am from Mars.”
She laughed at that and understood.
I know the bill is due today and had not received a notice or new bill. I went online to see our bill, and nothing had changed. So, in my little “good grief,” I called the server back once more.
I was told in an argumentative debate that they base their bills on “prorating” the past month.
“The practice of prorating can apply in many areas, from billing for services to paying out dividends or allocating business partnership income. Pro rata is calculated by dividing the instance of an item by the maximum quantity of that item. This ratio can then be applied to any related item to find the same proportion.”
I told this person that is not what I was told. They told me when I cancelled the service that I would not have to pay the full amount and then I would receive a new bill for September.
They did the run around or indirectly blamed me for not listening to them. Yet I felt like they were not listening to me and trying to get me to agree with them even though my guts knew they were bold face liars.
I think I talked to a supervisor who was the same. So, after some debate she told me she would do me a favor and give me a onetime discount waiver.
“I sure had to work hard for those twenty dollars.”
I paid the whole bill anyway out of that shadowy doubt of guilt.
I called back again to see if in fact I got that waiver and if in fact the phone line was cancelled.
The new representative told me that it was all good and told me how my bill next month included the waiver. This means I got my money back.
I told the conversation I had with another representative who told me that I would have to pay the full amount this month due to the word “prorating.”
She then told me an amazing thing. That they do not do that and that they go by each month. So, I was in fact told a lie. We laughed over it, and I filed a complaint that did go forward to the other representative. I felt good about that.
This new representative had style. She told me to look on my bill on page four and so I did and read this,
“… in accordance with the…. Conditions of Service, …. Services are billed on a monthly basis.”
Yes, no mention of prorating.
I had a wonderful moment.
The moral of this real-life experience is this, if you don’t say something and just let someone else tell you something else for you to believe, believe in yourself first. Don’t be bullied, influenced, or rejected without following through to the wonderful conclusion in believing in yourself.
Ya it was all over twenty bucks, might have well been one million dollars or the good feeling of holding integrity up for the losers to see, since they don’t have any.
I was born with foresight. It was a natural part of my DNA, and it cursed me because no one from my family explained it to me. I found the answers through books, TV and others with this value of seeing life.
A curse because there are things in our lives that hold certain degrees of pain that cling to us. For me it was foresight. Knowing things before they happened. An intuitive knowing that plagued me without being able to put words to what it was.
Then in time I learned to hold on to my foresight. Waiting for found explanation to my confusion. Other friends and family looked at me cross-eyed with wonder or doubt.
Now that I am 65 years old, I see it as a gift of foresight, for that is what it is now, it reveals to me that I was OK.
I can use my active imagination to go back and be the person that listens and tries to understand. Because the youthful me needs to be heard.
It has come around to be a blessing that I will confirm as good. Now is a time to reap what I have sown. Building on this magical nature that many of us share.
It is my Cornish character, maybe. I hope to encourage others here to listen to their foresight. It is so human and feminine. An honorable part of who we are.
To bend back and embrace all the past, present and future.
The good bridge of balance.
William Blake is a friend who helped me along the way to believe…
In the Mediterranean world Dove was related to mother goddess Astarte. Sexual love and fertility. Goddess Aphrodite – love, and Eirene – Peace.
In fact, pigeons live on every continent except Antarctica. However, seeing a white pigeon is rare even as only 1 % are all white. The White Albino Pigeon has special symbolic meaning for people all around the world.
July 30/23 Waxing Gibbous Full Moon Tomorrow.
Tonight about 7:30 PM I went out for a short swim to cool off. The sun was hot and up closer to the west of the horizon.
I saw a new bird high on the telephone wire. One I had not viewed before. The bird was intensely white and had a soft aura about it. I thought it was larger than a dove or pigeon. Yet with a small, charming head and beak.
Slowly this bird came closer and closer as my body was covered in water up to my head. A few times this bird flew over me and around me. It landed on the pool side table’s umbrella. Then flew down on the ground across the pool from me.
Walking around the pool closer to me. It pulled its head down to take a drink of water from the small Jacuzzi. I was standing very calmly in the water and saw that this bird had very black eyes and moved its head round as eyes were blinking. Seemed to me a kind of Morse Code. Staring at me for long moments of time.
Looking this way and that way expecting movement from any variable possible before flight if necessary. Here in the same parallel line, I found a praying mantis exoskeleton floating on the tip of the water.
We spent a good 30 minutes this way and the white bird flew up on a telephone line. I watched and waited until the white albino peace bird was out of sight from my view. An amazing experience, incredibly special and very overwhelming.
I’ve lived here 24 years, and this is the first time this beautiful creature, with golden leg bracelets, ever visited me. A focused bird, unafraid and deliberate. Not showing interest in the ravens’ food or songbirds’ water bath.
“Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Carl Gustav Jung believed in our unconscious communicating with our conscious through symbols. Birds play a huge part in this archetypal symbolism as they represent the space of air, and this is a bridge between the human and spirit world.”
– general in-depth perception… open to interpretation!
The White Birds
I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky, Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew dabbled, the lily and rose; Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam:
I and you! I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more; Soon far from the rose and the lily, and fret of the flames would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!
-WB Yeats
The “Danaan Shore” refers to Tier-nan-Oge (Gaelic), an imaginary land where mortals live as long as do fairies. Danu was the queen of the fairies that inhabited this land. Yeats interpreted Gonne’s wish to become a seagull as a wish for freedom from sorrow and time.
* I placed as a Finalist in the April 2023 Competition. So much art… yet the renegotiation is satisfying. Below is the inspiration. A quote from a book.
“One day, having noticed my covetous gaze, he presented me with a tiny golden pendant of my own-two bees entwined together around a tiny honeycomb. It glistened in the sun light, so rich and burnished that I thought the minute drop of honey would melt and slide away in the heat.”
Daedalus gives Ariadne a gift. ~ Ariadne Page 7, by Jennifer Saint.
“Entries from many countries across the world: South Korea, Hong Kong, Ukraine, USA, Taiwan, Austria, Italy, Canada, Poland, Singapore, South Africa and Portugal. Enjoy the show and thank you for expressing an interest in our competition.”
I have often been afraid or uneasy or did not believe in competition. The means of doing anything is an obligation I took for myself and the world a long time ago. Acknowledgement is a new feeling for me, and I like it.
What really turns me on here is that so many countries unite through sharing their art in a competition without hate or dismay. That the world can join here in peace and beauty and reflection.
This is so good. That is why I love my WordPress site. It lets individuals communicate all around the world. Communication is the key to peace and though we can get angry, expression is always best. Creative expression is our superior and the best of our collective human nature.
It says pencil in the competition. It is pencil, sharpie pen ink and watercolor.
If women and men and all those in between and around, don’t fight for their rights, be it small or major world changing … unfortunately there are nut jobs ready to take over the world in a very unfair, crazy, and fascist way. Most of them have lost their ability to discern and hold to a propaganda or support system that is a dark, fear inspired, hate and stupidity blended homogeneous in their coffee coffee. They are drinking it down…
No American woman should be denied access to family planning assistance because of her economic condition.
~ Richard Nixon
Dorothea: What is that?
Abbie: It’s The Raincoats.
Dorothea: Can’t things just be pretty?
Jamie: Pretty music is used to hide how unfair and corrupt society is.
Dorothea: Ah, okay so… they’re not very good, and they know that, right?
Abbie: Yeah, it’s like they’ve got this feeling, and they don’t have any skill, and they don’t want skill, because it’s really interesting what happens when your passion is bigger than the tools you have to deal with it. It creates this energy that’s raw. Isn’t it great?
~ 20th Century Women
When I was growing up my dad would not let us talk politics, religion, or science fiction. We lived in a male dominated world and that was how it was. When the 70’s hit things started to change. When the civil rights movement grasped the main media in the late 1960s and the women’s rights movement in the 1970s, it changed the main media exchange and life became a real lesson on our human rights.
“Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973), was a landmark decision of the U.S. Supreme Court in which the Court ruled that the Constitution of the United States generally protects a pregnant woman’s liberty to choose to have an abortion.”
As a young lady Planned Parenthood clinics became available to us all over the USA and beyond.
“Planned Parenthood has received federal funding since 1970, when President Richard Nixon signed into law the Family Planning Services and Population Research Act, amending the Public Health Service Act. Title X of that law provides funding for family planning services, including contraception and family planning information. The law had support from both Republicans and Democrats. Nixon described Title X funding as based on the premise that “no American woman should be denied access to family planning assistance because of her economic condition.”
I have a friend who I grew up with who plays by the extreme conservative playbook. Where civil rights and a woman’s rights are changing for the worst. She did not want to have children, so she consciously got sterilized. When I was about 18 after being group raped and then having an abortion, I too almost took that measure. Yet I am glad I did not. I now have two sons that I can’t imagine living life without.
Now in some states she could not have that right to choose, nor I for that matter. God did not strike us down for our decisions.
Yet now she supports a political agenda hurriedly ascending to take away those rights, well it does not make sense.
It is like seeing a big image of Nixon on the back of a stage with Kari Lake foaming at the mouth with her anti humanity propaganda. They don’t make sense. It is absurd.
How do you reason with a drunk dad who is calling you a moron when you want to watch Star Trek.? You can’t.
20th Century Women (2016) was not a big film, but it holds a high degree of foresight about what was coming and is right upon us now, again. It tells a narrative rich and believable and endearing. And yes, I got to work with the production to share a image but it is an image that is endearing to me.
It was my story about being a woman in the late 1970s and how one image was used, and I never got credit for it, until in the ending credits of this awesome film. I could not think of a better way to achieve my goal. Which makes the film so special to me and that I took my two boys to see it when they both were still living at home. A special time to teach my boys about women, civil rights, and the early punk scene. But most importantly about what it is like being a mom.
In conclusion as a mama, punk, one who supports civil rights and a woman’s right to choose, to one who wants national healthcare for all, I just had to set the scene straight… there is something off here in the time we are witnessing, and it is not good.
I am finding Mr. Fuck has come out of his Bomb shelter to play… it has been awhile. He was pissed due to the fact that Mr. Shit’s theme song came out and no one cares about him anymore. So Mr. Shit and I got together and wrote a theme song for him.
Funny how creative endeavors come out to play again as one gets older. Mr. Shit and Mr. Fuck and I are feeling creative, silly and laugh a lot too.
I think about the song Puff the Magic Dragon and realize as I get older I am happy to find the call again of Puff’s gigantic roar and the song does not make me sad anymore.
“Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail.
Jackie kept a lookout perched on Puff’s gigantic tail.
Noble kings and princes would bow whenever they came
Pirate ships would lower their flags when Puff roared out his name.”
Yes we all three agreed on this… so here is Mr. Fuck’s theme song that is well overdo.
Mr. BEE takes a drag watching as he critiques the theme song.
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.
“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.
Taken from The Terrible Death Bubble Gum Comic A Flopside COmic!
“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
Friday night was time to go out and celebrate because 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, 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, I looked over to see a man with a beard. Brown and 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.
Then I explained myself by saying,
“I respect that your 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 fast…
At Denny’s restaurant, 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 contrary people we met last night between the pub and the bar. We have not gone back since.
“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
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.
Does George Santos ring a bell?
He is a manifestation of this “Crazy un-Wisdom” of “Chaos magic!”
Seems it is what it is.
In a bar in the San Fernando Valley California
To the House of Representatives
And some Senators…
bewildering our beloved District of Columbia,
these dark spirits or anti-humans are hanging around,
spreading their chaos,
chanting their bullcrap chaos magic.
Using “shock tactics” saying something “outrageous” in order to “enhance personal power!”
May 7, 1945 … yesterday some celebrated Germany officially surrendering to the Allies, bringing an end to the European conflict in World War II. Churchill gives his V for victory salute! Yet in truth it is much more than that! If you don’t believe in magic listen up ! Some symbols are powerful.
This image or salute was given to Winston Churchill by Aleister Crowley, occultist, ceremonial magician, poet, to protect him ( his country.. the world) from the diobolical depth of the Nazi Party . History is what it is. I made up a few badges … I use it against Trump 👽
On Fallbrook and Victory in the San Fernando Valley
Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
Life is so contrary and beginning and ending all the time. The stars seem stable, as they dance their astrological dance. The moon and sun and seasons are very dependable but not the storms or the opposite whispers of joy and enlightenment we may find. This earth will always be a contrary place sweetened with continuity and music.
Yesterday before the rain, Sara and oldest son walked over from their apartment. They are counting their steps. Later they left and we decided to join them halfway on their journey home. A longer walk than my usual mile per day.
It was easy all the way until we said goodbye and then we walked slowly onward, and we headed home, husband, youngest son, and I.
Would we get something to eat?
“No, it is past 6 PM and I don’t like eating much after then.”
That is what they get for always asking what MAMA wants.
On the way with Sara and oldest son I noticed a broken book on the ground. The pages danced below our feet for a long while.
I picked up three of the pages as a focused random moment of finding something wandering and enlightening me from the dirty street of trash. On this dark cold evening of winter.
A man was covered with such trash in the middle of the sidewalk next to the shopping mall and restaurants. He was pretending to sleep as cars raced by and we walked around him.
I sadly declared.
“He is going to get mighty wet when the rain hits?”
Husband quickly responded,
“He is most likely waiting for the shopping mall to close down. I am sure he has a safe place there.”
My feet got sore, and my back ached and howled as we headed home.
Now today I read the book pages tossed on the ground like leaves in a storm.
One thing that stood out were the lyrics for a song.
The pages are filled with words about music, slavery, finding a voice and hope. Someone was looking for their roots, history, and family.
I thought about my own family history. I think this is a push to get going with my own pages filled with words about music, slavery, finding a voice and hope. Hope from lyrics. A song inspiring us to dance to the hopeful dream of music.
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,
“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 in 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.
