White Albino Pigeon …DOVE of 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.


Tonight about 7:30 PM I went out for a short swim to cool off. The sun hot and was up closer to the west.

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 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!


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.

Naked Green Slime No One Deserves That Naked Green Slime

A special FLOPSIDE EDITORIAL

Marjorie Taylor Greene Rebuked for Displaying Nude Photos of Hunter Biden at Hearing.


Greene was born in Milledgeville, Georgia, on May 27, 1974, the daughter of Robert Taylor.

She graduated from South Forsyth High School in Cumming, Georgia in 1992, and the University of Georgia with a Bachelor of Business Administration in 1996.

Perry Greene (m. 1995; div. 2022).

In September 2020, Greene wrote on Twitter that “children should not wear masks”, calling recommendations by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and other public health officials “unhealthy for their psychological, emotional, and educational growth” and “emasculating” for boys.

She called restrictions imposed in the U.S. Capitol in response to the COVID-19 pandemic, including face mask requirements, “tyrannical control” by Democrats.



Finalist In Art Competition: Superior and the best of human nature.

“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 human nature.


* 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.


It says pencil in the competition. It is pencil, sharpie pen ink and watercolor.



https://www.greycubegallery.com/current-show/index.html



Mr. Fuck roars out his name.

Puff the Magic Dragon & Mr. Fuck’s Theme song.


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.



Weeping Tears of Animus!

Raven in my front yard !

Tonight, wee hours of morn… I have been spending time awake with my animus!

A cup of coffee my ambrosia

kneading kitty on my lap

Happy happy

Thinking of male figures in my life

Who I admire and love!

Tonight I,

Acknowledge the male within me

You have not lost me

I embrace you

And let you cry

honey let it out

Weeping weeping wet tears

My night with animus!

Heal the headache, tears

Heartache and trauma.

The earth and sky

Jupiter and moon .


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.



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)

Silver dollars

Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside



“Mr. Sandman (yes) bring us a dream

Give him a pair of eyes with a “come-hither” gleam

Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci

And lots of wavy hair like Liberace.”

Silver dollars are on my mind. The magic as I view them from my memory or imagination. Mom went to Las Vegas and would play the slot machines with these babies. She would bring home many buckets full to take home to her kids. She kept them in her back bedroom closet for years.

She would pull them out every now and then as we admired the coins. Large hold in my small hands.

After her death oldest brother Greg stole them. I don’t know who has them now. He died a year back, so they are with some unknown person.

I miss mom’s large bedroom with a big window that looked over the Verdugo Mountains. The San Fernando Valley was a deep chasm of hills and homes and the Woodland Hills Golf Course.

Often, she had her radio program on that played music from the 1940s and 1950s as she sewed up dresses or clothes for herself, my sister or myself. A sewing machine on a table that had everything you could imagine for creating fine clothing.

Laying out the patterns, pinning the material and cutting were all something I watched closely.

Then a song would come on and she would start to hum it. I would sometimes dance. This was one of the songs I remember, and the song holds the memory of my mom as we danced around her bedroom.

Mr. Sandman

Sandman” (or “Mister Sandman”) is a popular song written by Pat Ballard and published in 1954. It was first recorded in May of that year by Vaughn Monroe & His Orchestra and later that year by the Chordettes and the Four Aces.


I love watching Perry Mason on TV before I go to bed. It is part of my routine to relax and watch a time before technology, big technology, took over. Phones, telephone booths and stylish clothing are comforting to watch. Yet what I do endure are the commercials in between.

A new one this season is Walgreens commercial. I try not to pay attention, which has a little logo saying, “It is not magic it’s Walgreens,” Here we find all the magic and wonder of the holidays and then the terrible quote. It is kind of negative propaganda as the company is an evangelical organization most likely. The war on magic and our imagination is horrid.

When I see the commercial, I quickly reflect on the song Pure Imagination from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.

“Pure Imagination” is a song from the 1971 film Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. It was written by British composers Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley specifically for the movie. It was sung by Gene Wilder who played the character of Willy Wonka. Bricusse has stated that the song was written over the phone in one day. The song has a spoken introduction.

“Ladies and gentlemen

Boys and girls

The chocolate room

Hold your breath

Make a wish

Count to three

Come with me and you’ll be

In a world of pure imagination

Take a look and you’ll see

Into your imagination.”





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