“The Man, no one sees the man, if they do… they live on borrowed time”
~ Film. The Line-Up, 1958
A interpretation song by some guys from the bomb shelter… entertainment by
The PEASANTS and the Rusty Blade…

A interpretation song by some guys from the bomb shelter… entertainment by
The PEASANTS and the Rusty Blade…

A gift to my mother. Now after her death I take it back and place on a wall in my home.

Over thirty years ago
Finding a red rose
stained glass
five petals.
At a common thrift store
then, upon my wall
after, a gift to mother
upon her wall.
Now upon my wall, again
a symbol
now I know
it means good magic
supporting me
all along…
“Midsummer night upon the sword,
Knights and squires are standing guard,
In the grove knightly dance they tread
With torches and garlands of roses red”
~ Johannes Steenstrup, CHR The Medieval Popular Ballad, 1968


“The Cambion… Nimue herself and Merlin all are “denizens of another reality.” How can we humans begin to understand them. Why do we make them evil? Instead, I will enjoy their stories and not judge them. Life is just that, a mystery… like the denizens.”
-Jacques Vallee
Walking in the early morning has become a new routine for me, though I typically prefer evening walks to enjoy the night sky. Today, I had an amusing encounter with a local squirrel by the olive tree in front of my house.
Then half up the olive tree turned round looking straight into my eyes. The squirrel’s eyes are a dark black brown with a reflective glimmering. A squirrel moves like a humming bird…deliberate movement, fast then still and focused.
The squirrel moving away, then came back to look closely into my eyes again! About three feet between us was the distance we shared. This lasted about ten minutes.
I mumbled conversation as the squirrel responded with a deep vibrating sound from within its flexible body, while showing off its gorgeous tail! I would like to think; I am still a bit on the wild side too. I have let myself become too damn domesticated over the years. It is nice to know that I have not lost my touch with nature!
This magic, also taught by Merlin the Magician, helps me to appreciate my little wild connection. I feel that nature still knows my name, as it did when I was young!

“Silence is the perfectest herault of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much.”
― William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing



May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh, how far you are from home
Mornië utúlië ((darkness has come))
Believe and you will find your way
Mornië alantië ((darkness has fallen))
A promise lives within you now
May it be the shadows call
Will fly away
May it be your journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun
Mornië utúlië ((darkness has come))
Believe and you will find your way
Mornië alantië ((darkness has fallen))
A promise lives within you now
A promise lives within you now
Enya:May It Be Lyrics
Quote Pg. 267 The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets. pictures taken from Yahoo images online sources.
“I am a product of Los Angeles Country,” says Mr. Fuck.

“Been around. I was left on the doorstep of a record store head-shop in the San Fernando Valley. I teethed on vinyl and breathed in herbs with my milk as a babe.”
“My best girl Lame Faced Doll says she loves the streets at night in the city of Los Angeles. She takes the metro, bus and walks miles into the high flying sun of mystery. She listens to the music where ever she finds it,” says the brave man Mr. Fuck.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/08/08/marjorie-cameron-moca_n_5656561.html?utm_hp_ref=arts
@@
“What inspires you is not my concern,” says Mr. Shit.
“Take me to any room and it is a holiday room…what is your concern is not mine.”

SoNg ThrEe
“Boredom and politics… anything but Boredom and politics..
This is dedicated to the man at the art store that threw his cigarette butt down on the asphalt and then picked it back up later and continued smoking it. Repetition always and Recycle everything…” Mr. Shit agrees with Mr. Fuck on this… they are comrades to the end.


The tune pops in Mr. Fuck’s head and using his finger as a fucking antenna… he moves you… MUSIC WISE!

Repetition is the key to spreading the word. Be it politics, music or art…. not those terrible things called education and math. The pesky fucking continuity of wisdom through MUSIC!

The first song is one that has been listened to since the 1930’s ! A Jazz standard. This is mom’s favorite. At this time she is beyond unbelievable earthly destruction. Past the Van Allen radiation belt. A little mystery.
First Song.
Deep Purple
Next Song for today is from the first Heavy Metal Rock band. Oh yes it is fucker. Cause Charlie Tuna said so. (RIP) Who’s Next is a reasonable question!
Getting In Tune.
Last song for today or forever or tomorrow is Dedicated to Kira Roessler and her Academy Awards Success which I feel has nothing to do with this song or this fucking band in particular… thank GODDESS she moved on..!!
you have heard the songs all before and you will hear the songs again… so what the fuck…Mr. Fuck’s finger does not lie.


If the sirens sang
I would not be afraid
Today I am one of them
Where the moon
Meets the sea

Shell greets the rock
The hills leap
Arching rounded
Zigzagging
towards water and waves.

I learned the advantage of being a four-legged chicken and I also learned to appreciate the New Wave phenomenon for what it achieved. Also I was enlightened over the meaning and sound of “New Wave’s Secret Percussive Weapon.”

New Wave Chicken is an interesting Fanzine about chickens, music, and memories. It also contains current events such as the Skate-Til-U-Die event from Richmond, Ca to San José~ 2016 May 14th, 15th, and 16th.
In this ‘Zine several writers share their memories of precise moments in their lives when music changed everything. New Wave music in particular.
I read New Wave Chicken fast. It went down greedily and passionately. I wanted to spend my time with this new fanzine friend. It pushes you to an Altered state of consciousness which fanzines should do.
Steve Hart is the publicist of New Wave Chicken, and he is coming out with another soon. He asked me to author a story in his ‘zine and of course I did. We go way back as friends from the 1980’s punk scene when fanzines linked a music scene and friends together.

https://fluke.bigcartel.com/category/fluke-publishing
I was looking for a poem and watercolor image from about 20 something years ago. I was scanning through boxes, books and plastic boxes for a rose and an owl image. I looked in my black portfolio art books too. I think I am going to have to go through the big plastic boxes in my art closet. The ones that are stacked one on top of the other.

Yet, today while so many fucking planets are descending at the same time with the sun my energy is at an all-time low. Later, as the full moon and Jupiter dance their cosmic tango to the mid-heaven tonight, I will be feeling much better. I will look for my art creation later. I did come upon something else. A watercolor I did for a patient years ago.
Her name is Ann. She was once a psychiatric nurse. I attended to her needs when she was an Alzheimer’s patient living in a home in the Santa Cruz Mountains called The Mansion. As an all-round aide, entertainment person and house keeper; I had several patients to attend to. Ann was one of my favorites. She kept to herself and was very clean and tidy. I use to take my patients / friends on long walks or van rides around the mountains or along the beach. Ann would often hold my hand and smile. Just as a mom would hold her daughter’s hand.
One day I sneezed and she handed me a tissue and said,
“Will this do?”
I looked and saw a five-dollar bill. I told Ann to keep it. I had a tissue in my pocket.
I also arranged for art classes for those who wanted to be creative. It was difficult to keep my friends focused. We had lots of fun. At one of these classes I water-colored red roses for Ann.
Once another patient fell down and hurt herself. Ann went from being her usual tame self to a professional nurse. Ann handled the situation as a charming and caring nurse. When the emergency was under control Ann walked away with her usual soft tennis shoe walk. Not a care in the world.

Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.
~George Bernard Shaw
I’ve been blogging on my WordPress site for five years. It is something that brings me great joy and amusement to communicate with a global community. I find this fascinating.

Thanks goes to my WordPress community and others that “come on by ” to read it or just look at the pictures. A big Thank you to all my followers.
“Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos.”
~ Mary Shelley
I have goals; to come out with a small book of poetry and a surprising turn on my punk memoir The Seminary Of Praying Mantis My Punkalullaby as chapters of poetic verse. Also to convert our bomb-shelter into a home publishing studio. For art and writing… dreams awake now !!
“Everybody has a story to tell.”
~Joe Strummer
hudleyflipside.com
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
Martin Sprouse and Tim Yohannan (RIP) at the MRR House, 1987
~ maximumrocknroll.com

RIP Tim.
I know that Punk Rock is supposed to hate hippies.
Joe Strummer pissed on The Beatles, but he was once a hippie before he merged into a street punk as well as our friend Tim Yohannan from the ongoing Maximumrocknroll.
I grew up living and experiencing the ‘sixties. I have one older brother who seemed, at one strange time, to be a flower child. Pot unites both. Yet I must say my heart and soul resonate to the punk scene with lots of jazz on the side.
I have often thought that John Fogerty and Colin Abrahall have similar strong singing voices. They hit me the same way with generational differences of course.
Also, Eric Burdon and Keith Morris both have that deep singing tone, of continuity and rebellious style, which turns my blood to a boiling point.
Me like!
Romulus and Remus She Wolf (Ancient Rome)

Myths, fairy tales, children’s stories and scary stories seem to be just that. Yet if we pull the colorful ribbon to open these gifts, they share and reveal depth and revelations unimaginable and so “pow” exciting. History, wisdom, and ancient festivals move through the words condensed at a time when ‘the Church’ and ‘modern science’ did not own us.
A time when customs where not patriarchal. This knowledge revealed is often through the process of initiation or other worldly investigation. Sometimes taking the fire of passion to awaken these stories of truth. All the emotions come to play, and, in the process, we can be enlightened. When we begin to see the truths hidden within them.
It can be political or historically colored in the destruction of a world where festivals celebrated by Indigenous peoples’ stories can become alive once more. Where our unconscious holds the needed keys to open the truth. Legends can be upside down or reversed where evil is not evil and where righteousness contains the core of perversion, lies and powerful untruths.
We can skip lightly through these myths, fairy tales, children’s stories and scary stories or we can dive into them.
The evil Werewolf is partly a creation of the Inquisition, and the word lycanthropy was used then to describe it, which influences our modern perspective of a werewolf being something evil.
This lie is created by the Inquisition. A local villager, dressed in the pelt or skin of a wolf, stole an animal from a rich man’s livestock. Captured and branded as a thief and declared possessed by the devil. He was tortured and declared evil. The term used was lycanthropy. A person who transforms into a wolf.
Dressing in wolf skins was an ancient peasant festival tradition celebrating the hunt, nature, and the Goddess. However, during the Inquisition, these customs were seen as evil, and efforts were made to eradicate them, particularly those connected to nature and the Goddess.
celtic_wolves_by_microraptorarts-d2thd5w

“The She-Wolf was another aspect of the Triple Goddess, as shown by her triadic motherhood. Festivals embrace this continuity from ancient times by way of oral tradition, dance, rites, and rituals. Known as the “wolf-clan tradition.””
“Grandmother, what big arms you have!”
“All the better to hug you with, my dear.”
“Grandmother, what big legs you have!”
“All the better to run with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big ears you have!”
“All the better to hear with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big eyes you have!”
“All the better to see with, my child.”
“Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!”
“All the better to eat you up with.
And, saying these words, this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and ate her all up.” ~Charles Perrault
Little Red Riding Hood is a story that contains an ancient tradition.
“The Red woven hood was the distinguishing mark of a prophetess or priestess…was part of a Virgin-Mother-Crone Trinity.”
In conclusion this has been a general look, a laywoman’s study, of ribbons pulled; a look at the she-wolf clan and red hoods and poor peasants. Life is a mystery and I find that these stories of antiquity show us a great deal more about the mystery of life then we know. The only thing evil presented here is the Roman Catholic Inquisition.

“The Inquisition was a group of institutions within the Catholic Church whose aim was to combat heresy, conducting trials of suspected heretics. Studies of the records have found that the overwhelming majority of sentences consisted of penances, but convictions of unrepentant heresy were handed over to the secular courts, which generally resulted in execution or life imprisonment.
The Inquisition had its start in the 12th-century Kingdom of France, with the aim of combating religious deviation (e.g. apostasy or heresy), particularly among the Cathars and the Waldensians. The inquisitorial courts from this time until the mid-15th century are together known as the Medieval Inquisition.
Other groups investigated during the Medieval Inquisition, which primarily took place in France and Italy, include the Spiritual Franciscans, the Hussites, and the Beguines. Beginning in the 1250s, inquisitors were generally chosen from members of the Dominican Order, replacing the earlier practice of using local clergy as judges.”
Notes and quotes taken from Barbara G. Walker, The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets.
Ossory
http://www.britannica.com/place/Ossory
Inquisition
http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Inquisition
~ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inquisition

~ Dr. Jacqueline Mitton, from the prestigious Royal Astronomical Society
“Every Time A Bell Rings An Angel Gets its Wings”

I woke up with a treat this morning. I set the cell phone alarm for 7:30 AM. Time to get youngest son up for school. This morning I found someone rumbling at the front door. I was surprised to find that it was oldest son. He had some Jack’s breakfast burritos. He got me a coffee and a grilled breakfast sandwich because I am on a low cholesterol diet.
Mine is a rebellious campaign against free radicals and hydrogenated oils. Scum of the earth I declare!!
Today was my Dad’s birthday. A Sagittarius to some Ophiuchus to others. As I stood in my computer room, having a window facing the west, I heard the front doorbell ring. I walked to the door and called out,
“Hello, who’s there?”
No one answered. I looked out the window and there was no one there. I opened the door, and no one was there. No packages on the ground or UPS truck racing away at a 100 miles per hour. Not a laughing child playing ding-dong-ditch.
It was cold outside with only the sound of a few crows barking with the dogs.
I am thinking about my Dad in the best way possible today. All those special little things he did just for me are good to think about. He was a great storyteller. When I grew up and out of the house my dad told me that late at night, he would get up hearing a sound outside his bedroom widow of someone calling his name. He thought it was me asking him to get up and out of bed to open the front door and let me in. In my wild teenager years, I would often not come home until 3 AM.
Dad created the best fires in the family hearth. My parent’s original fireplace opened on two sides. On a day like today when the chilly air makes your face cold: my best memories are of coming into the house after a hard day of playing. The warmth of the fire and the smell of my mother’s kitchen are comforting thoughts today as I think of my Dad’s love on his once happy birthday.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ophiuchus
I am not a big Foreigner fan… at all… but this song has haunted me since it first came out…1984…. Ophiuchus in mythological stories is the serpent healer.
An ancient and archaic image of wisdom and knowledge. Associated with Hermes Transmigrates.
A time of great healing is possible. A time of Orbs in the sky and saviors being born. The shadow shows its face and the ancient battle of light and darkness continues outside of us and within us.
One can view the original BAUBO PROTAGONIST in the collection of art on-line via Super-Sheroes. Below is the second and the third is on the way. Thanks goes to Flopside Comics and Mr. Fuck who is my all time muse and general asshole… and to the Hags!!

It is a good thing to have the opportunity to be supported in this way. Take a view and have some fun.

SOYAL

Bah Humbug mix – a Xmas gift to you from Radio Clash!
As a religious studies major the more, I study religions and their particular cultures the more I realize that the further back one goes in time to study these religions it all comes down to an image of a circle and a cross.
It is the path of the sun. Individual visions, stories around the campfire, musical bards, fairy tales and dogma all bring forth races and cultures around a simple image of the sun rising and falling at certain times of the year.
I wonder if Joshua Feuerstein realizes how much of jerk he is. I was watching the original Rain Maker last night, a film with the mighty Burt Lancaster. He plays the dreamer known as Bill Starbuck. A name he created as a traveling rainmaker. It really caught my attention because of the controversy about some red cups not having a certain holiday greeting. With all the media play-up we are all being razzle dazzled by social media, Starbuck’s mermaid image / logo has her legs (fins) spread.
An ancient image of Goddess / Baubo.
San Pedro de Galligans, Gerona, Spain. twelfth century CE. (Duty, 1981, fig 7.)

Yet the cup we drink from is covered over. A holy cup of coffee . This year I am going to humbug Christmas and focus on Aboriginal groups…
“…dedicated to giving aid and direction to the sun which is ready to and give strength to budding life. It is called SOYAL…”
~ Religious Tolerance.org Ontario Consultants on religious Tolerance
http://www.warpaths2peacepipes.com/native-american-culture/soyal-solstice-ceremony.htm
Rainmaker
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049653/

My favorite Marilyn Monroe film is Clash by Night. It is a rather unknown film Noir with leading lady Barbara Stanwyck. The reason I like this film is because Marilyn’s character is so good. She is charming, sexy, cute, and loyal. The beginning of a great dramatic actress. There are some remarkable scenes shared by Barbara and Marilyn. One particular scene I love is when they do a walk tight together.

Defiantly affirming their place in the world. It makes me cry and feel as if I could join right in. In general, their relationship portrayed in this film seems good, playful, and accepting; the older actress making way for the younger one.
I enjoy studying Barbara Stanwyck’s films Noir. They have that dip into the dark side of reality that is pulling at all the right emotions. There is nothing like her type of Film Noir.

![bf2d3775808236f8e827a52fdbf3c1f1_48[1]](https://i0.wp.com/hudleyflipside.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/bf2d3775808236f8e827a52fdbf3c1f1_481.jpg?resize=55%2C55&ssl=1)
I read in one of my books that shy and introverted people tend to blossom on the internet. Also that it is women over 40 that made the Kindle come alive and become so successful.
I am part of those statistics and I don’t mind. It is a vortex vertex… in and out. Taking it in like breathing while learning and pushing it out like creating.
It is in this process that I find myself smiling and I like that feeling. Mirror, mirror on the wall is not just something that holds our reflection looking back at us.
It is a dimension into another realm. It asks questions and demands answers.
A test. Sometimes I find that when an individual tries to override their ego… the collective ego of humans somehow comes beseeching them… the poor soul.
This is a strange thing. I wish we could all just be happy for blossoming people who out feel their controlling egos.

“Andy Dufresne: That’s the beauty of music. They can’t get that from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?
Red: I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it though. Didn’t make much sense in here.
Andy Dufresne: Here’s where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don’t forget.
Red: Forget?
Andy Dufresne: Forget that… there are places in this world that aren’t made out of stone. That there’s something inside… that they can’t get to, that they can’t touch. That’s yours.
Red: What’re you talking about?
Andy Dufresne: Hope.”
~The Shawshank Redemption.
The last eight years have been a strange recapitulation for me of my life.
Some esoteric individuals call it a preparation for the “return of Saturn in my natal chart.” It is the time of turning 57 to 60. Yet I have experienced it all the same, in the last eight years.
A couple of years before 2010 is when it started; a need to look back at my youthful rebellion. Now the revival or nostalgia has reached a Peak of the Bell Curve. As a generation feeling, I was not the only one from my generation feeling the same pull. It is all in the song, one note to the next, and it took me back to a time when finding a 45 was not an easy proposition.
Now it is too darn easy.
Authoring a book has lost its charm now because there are so many ‘telling a tale’ or ‘weaving a story ‘of those same rebellious times.
For me it all comes down to the experience. Looking it square in the face and being happy. I am admiring old friends that still hang to the musical notes of rebellion, where some friends /comrades are as warm as the sun and others as cold as death. Yet it is a good journey still to hope for something new without memories.
Andy Dufresne: You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific?
Red: No.
Andy Dufresne: They say it has no memory. That’s where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory.
~The Shawshank Redemption: Stephen King