The yellow submarine in that piece almost feels like:
Very 1968 meets LA Flipside survival mythology. And now the year 2026!
“Our country is run by gangsters
And Ivy Leaguers
Morally run by born again deceivers
And media gorillas!”
– mr shit 9/28/16
When I first became aware that everything living has a consciousness, I was overwhelmed with a sense of responsibility! Then after a while, I settled down into this web of life. We are all here for such a short time! I’ve come to know that it is the little efforts we make, with this awareness, that communicates who we are to the rest of the web! Even books carry a living awareness. The Internet is a vast global mental awareness that communicates now! We are all connected mentally and sometimes emotionally.
During a thunderstorm last year, a bolt of lightning above my house made the car alarm go off! While looking for my keys to turn off the alarm, something strange happened. I looked up at the computer monitor! I was calm and then the computer turned on! I watched as windows opened and mail sites opened! Without a password! There I stood gazing into another family member’s mail and messages! I quickly turned off the computer! I then turned off the car alarm! It all happened so fast!
Is humanity now involved in a strange mythology science fiction tale? Are we now reaching a point where our psyche and the cosmos are merging in a state of communication awareness? This is not a new concept.
Noospheere, introduced by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin is a, “social phenomenon [as] the culmination of and not the attenuation of the biological phenomenon.”[9]
He was a “French idealist philosopher and Jesuit priest” who seems to have predicted the coming of the internet. He may not have known how it would manifest, but he sure got me believing. I read his work years ago and just recently reflected back on his brilliance.
Then there are characters like Cleve Backsteran interrogation specialist for the CIA who “using a polygraph instrument in the 1960s which led to his theory of “primary perception” where he claimed that plants “feel pain” and have extrasensory perception (ESP), which was widely reported in the media but was rejected by the scientific community.”
David Wilcock and Pierre Teilhard de Chardin have written interesting books on these subjects. Their websites are listed in my links section if you find them fun for study.
And so I end this essay with some random words by H.P. Lovecraft,
I listened with renewed interest. The music seemed strangely muffled, and yet it came thought. I observed also that it had no definite direction; while before it had seemed to come from outside, it now seemed to come from underneath the house-a curious, chant-like playing of reeds and pipes.
“A flute orchestra,” I said.
“Or Pan pipes,” said Frolin.
I looked up at him sharply; he returned my gaze as steady. It occurred to me that his unnatural gravity had a reason for being, whether or not he wished to put that reason into words. I caught hold of his arms.”
Pg 139 Beyond the Threshold, August Derleith. ~ H.P. Lovecraft and others, Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos
“…the Noosphere, the self-reflective universe of creative evolution where the internet is a living library, a global brain and a volunteer Akashic Records stored in the cloud of unknowing; as elements of Karma V Free Will, as Cosmic Vacuum Cleaners and as Psychic Transmitters…”
~ An Accelerated Time-Line, lorna@hareinthemoonastrology.co.uk
Akashic Records
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akashic_records
The Cloud of Unknowing
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cloud_of_Unknowing
A interpretation song by some guys from the bomb shelter… entertainment by
The PEASANTS and the Rusty Blade…
Cowardice is the lack of courage to face danger, difficulty, opposition, and pain. I think we all have times when we experience this type of behavior. I admire others, and myself, who stand tall and cross the line, regardless. Yet, there are times when cowardice can be a dark projection from others. I think every time we become aware of these feelings we should stop and listen to them. Not do what others say we should do, but what we feel is the right thing to do for us.
I was in pain. My head ached. I knew my blood pressure was high. I was hot too. Early in the morning I went to the pool. I stood up to my waist in the cool water. I viewed rounded water ripples radiating out from me. The water hit the side of the pool, across from me, and the ripples radiated back to me. What a simple thing to notice this morning. At one time the two ripples rippled and met together, a joining. I am sure there is a mathematical equation that oldest son might know, yet I am happy to just see it as something predictable but unique.
I viewed a dragonfly flying circle eights over me and then around the pool. Spirals and circle eights over and over again are the dance of the single dragonfly. Then quickly, in the wink of an eye, the dragonfly touched the water with a slight pinch. The dragonfly took just enough water, in moderation, as not to fall into the water. How delicate and beautiful is the dragonfly. Dragonfly did this many times as it danced around the pool.
Even though my head was still in pain, I was instantly refreshed when I dived into the cold water, my cowardice feeling, to not dive into the pool, was overtaken by my own will to feel better. Then as I swam to the other end of the pool, I saw a large dark moth floating dead on the water.
I intuitively still hear the lessons that nature whispers in my heart and especially at that moment. It is time for me to be as the moderate dragonfly. Avoiding the life of an overindulging black moth. There was a time when overindulgence was fun and exciting. Now I shall try to dance spirals and circle eights. A slight pinch or sweet sips from life will have to do.
Got the house all ready for a house full of boys.
Seems I have spent most of my years in a house full of boys. Mostly, boys like my three brothers and their friends.
Later, a house full of crazy young wild men, and now my own kids. It seems I am like that; I function well in an environment of guys.
I do my thing and they can do theirs. Now, I am the mama supervisor if they need some advice on how hot the oil should be when they deep fry their bacon wrapped hot dogs with Jack Daniel’s Whiskey BBQ sauce.
I am laid back like the autonomy of a cat; observant and not interested, but alert if need be… always friendly… sometimes. Some of my best memories on 4th of July is the watermelon filled with liquor, lamb on the BBQ, and dad dancing to Gary Glitter – Rock and Roll.
Last night we were watching some CNN history book program. Unfortunately, I continued to listen to the next author’s memoir of his personal days with Ronald Reagan and side kick Nancy. I try to keep an open mind about these things.
Oh boy, did I hear some amazing lies. What really got me thinking was what this speaker said about Ronald’s side kick Nancy. I guess, a media shot was needed that would project her as a housewife, or as a supporting and loving wife, who cooked in the kitchen.
The story told was kind of said and kind of funny. It seems that side kick Nancy would not pose for her picture because she would not put on, or wear, an apron. This is what she said…
“Me cook, I never cooked a meal in my life!”
My mouth opened and I drooled a bit. It seems amazing to me. A truth that not many people would know about.
Side kick Nancy, actress, mother and wife…
never cooked a meal in her life.
I understand while living in the White House one’s needs are taken care of. Tax payers do pay for chefs, janitors, maids etc. It comes with the territory. I guess, this means she most likely never cleaned a toilet either?? (drum roll… and bang)
“She would be my teacher, helping me to learn to shatter the mirrors of self-importance and to laugh at the expectations or projections that others send my way. It was OK to be me once more.”
~ South Shield, Sacred Path Cards, Jamie Sams, 1990.
I finally caught up with my long time punk comrade. Another show to play for him. We smiled at each other. I just had an ice-cold shot of vodka. The cold filled my belly. Even in a sleeping dream I could feel it. I also felt the warmth of the alcohol in my blood. I turned my head to order another. One for him and one for myself. I looked back and he was gone. OH, that depressed feeling when I lose a friend.
So many scenes have come and gone in my life. They happened and are now gone. They are tight and inspirational and then become a memory. Over and over again this change happens. I have enjoyed the tight times of intensity. A community of friends doing things together with a similar passion. I have experienced that nothing lasts forever. A new scene always comes again. Especially, when I take a risk by stepping out of my comfort zone.
Coyote tells me, as the trickster he/she is, to balance “sacredness and irreverence.” I can hop on my ego and ride it like a balloon, letting it go up into the sky. I can pull it back down with my human string. I will pop the crazy yellow balloon and laugh like a child.
@@@
By the time the punk scene hit the ‘eighties there was a continuous explosion of riptide underground movements happening at the same time. Bands like X and the Go-Go’s went with the big labels. They left the underground punk scene and faded. A mirage in the desert of big media. We did not focus on them anymore.
This post shows up after many years. I have done what I inspired to do. I am amazed that in my frustration I came forth with a re-print of our Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Ten Year Anniversary issue. Also, My Punkalullaby memoir, both in paperback. Also, my three Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine creation narratives documentary films.
I did what I set out to do. A new Flipside Video loop is out too and that is it… Flipside Fanzine, my story and all for ones reviewing. D.I.Y…. the Flipside way. Learn as you go.
a bard of the earth and sky, in the alley,
Hudley Flipside / 2024.
2016
A Ballad to the Good ‘ole Song by Hudley
‘to the ‘young punk dead.’
Life is a song, having a beginning, middle and end. A song has a soul each time you hear it. A song shares feelings and memories which awaken the life lived. A song holds on to experiences of good and inconvenient times! A song has a spirit which is eternally youthful, middle-aged, and old. A song ends like all living things. A song has all the qualities of life. A song amplifies us, the human being, who create the songs and those that resurrect listening to the songs … repeatedly.
Da Capo Press is under a big black sky. Yes, it is good that we all have the freedom to share our stories. In the supermarket I seem to get some deep emotions pulled up. We are all visually abused at the checkout stand. As usual I had to turn the ugly Trump man image around. Was it Time, Time/Life, Rolling Stone, People are another big media cutaneous pig where I viewed his image, and by chance the inside front page had a book review? My brain sucked it in so fast and I did not want to read it… but it came at me like a kamikaze knife. “The real punk rock …,” “X and the Go-Go’s, “the beloved untouchable Minutemen.” Then there was the one image of Henry Rollins …. His bald head.
“It is a curse…”
I put my blueberries and tortillas on the checkout stand. I know how big media gets reviews in such magazines. Is it an honest interview or is it a promotional piece, or a big advertisement? It all reeks and my heart break a bit to think about how the ‘young punk dead’ would rebel against this… as they did 30 years ago.
At Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine we had an endless supply of photos of all the punk bands. It was common underground weed photographs. Not for sale, or for a museum or for any uptown media DICKS. That was not our agenda.
Henry Rollins’s shaved head,
“Twenty something years ago; what issue was my review of Black Flag live in? A show where I called him a penis head?”
I think it was because he was one big muscle of sweat. It was meant to be a humorous blow from an underground nobody punker chick reviewing just another show. Henry took it like an evangelical’s literal agenda when reading the bible.
He was not hip to Los Angeles yet. A sense of humor he lacked big time.
Was it 12 years ago when the “Old-School” nostalgia punk thing started to happen? It has passed its peak baby. I was a silly doe when I approached Santa Monica Press and Feral House Publishing 12 years ago with my memoirs about the punk scene.
No one was interested. I even shared my ideas with punk Icon Keith Morris. No dice…that is how vinyl melts… old school wise.
I am not bitter, just sad. I find that some people are too eager to tell their story in a big way. Big promotional campaigns and all the media hype is a downer man. I wanted to write my memoir because I was concerned that the punk scene, as Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine, might be forgotten? Why am I so loyal …? I am still trying to figure it out!
What I have learned is this, I am more determined to do it myself now. DO It Myself BABY… locally and with my own media machine; a computer, scanner, and little art closet. I have my heavenly share of nasty sharpie pens, erasers, and pencils too.
I’ll hang with a community of peasants that don’t really want to break the membrane into the realm of fame and stars in Hollywood. I’ll stay a bard of the earth and sky, in the alley.
“Learning from ones mistakes” and the “uncomfortable truth” just about sums up Mercury Rx here. Those aspected by this will find they are constantly faced with intellectual opposition and therefore will have to develop witty deflective responses and a thick skin to criticism at this time. However this enables much wisdom to be gathered because every theory will be put through the wringer in debates. Ideas will have to be validated the scientific way, so generally the mass media will not get away with misleading reporting or unsubstantiated statements.
Above quote taken from http://darkstarastrology.com/mercury-retrograde/
“To develop witty deflective responses and a thick skin to criticism at this time.”
Husband has some vacation time. He spent all day researching all the places we could go. Las Vegas, Sacramento, Death Valley or maybe Yosemite Park.
“I just don’t know,” I said.
This morning I told him that there is no where you can take me that will make me happier than I am right here. My trees in the garden or the lavender near the miniature lemon tree. Also the things I seek these days are internal joys. Noting compares with the challenges of my mind. Maybe a rough something like kayaking or a path into the mountains near by. Yet still I am happy here, right here. I have so much to amuse me. Chores and responsibilities are my contract and contrast to a willing imagination.
Now that Mercury Rx is happening I feel an interesting shadow coming forth. Husband can run, play chess and maybe we can share a pint or see a band together? It is best to enjoy our time together here.
Oldest son turned me on to this number below.
Today on SUper Tuesday, political wise…Mr. Pee Wee gUtter sayz,
“This little tune is a must to help us make it through this offensive territorial pissing we are witnessing… but in time things will fucking recycle and move along… just a note, I have heard from reliable fucking sources…”
A out of it cat in the trash, “Ted Cruz getz all his dough from the big bad dudes of Wall street…”
“All of Me” is a popular song and jazz standard written by Gerald Marks and Seymour Simons in 1931.
Mr. Fuck heard, I said heard, that Big mama Clinton is traveling and hanging with the boyz at all of those “honky-tonks” and having a good ‘ole time…
Lastly a hopeful tune as the “sons of bitches” do their thing …. ” political-a- long…
This song dedicated to the Donald…
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.
Renewal of hope. Feeling connected with cosmic or universal energies. As Above, So Below. Opening your eyes to the highest potential or your situation. Getting in touch with your own creative powers. Self-esteem. Far-reaching effects. Receiving recognition for your abilities. “Doing your own thing,” no matter what.
stars that fell,
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
Before, the X-Files and Ancient Aliens theorists, we were blessed with Jacques Vallee and Whitley Strieber.
If you notice, these two characters are not mentioned these days. I even forget about their books on my bookshelves. What I like best about Vallee is his respect for oral tradition. As a scientist, an astrophysicist, he is a very special one.
“It ought to be remembered that the oral transmission of history and genealogy, with the most careful attention to language and details, was a perfect science among the Gaelic-speaking people. UFOs are not a strange phenomenon in the scheme of things. The Elves, Aliens and hairy militant dwarfs have been with us forever.”
Pg. 100 DIMENSIONS/The Alien Chronicles.
Jacques Vallee
“The UFO occupants, like the elves of old, are not extraterrestrials. They are the denizens of another reality.”
Pg. 109 DIMENSIONS
So you may wonder what this is all about. I had a UFO experience. I lost time and had my destination changed within a moments time. Vallee says that we need to share our experiences with others.
We all need to share in this other dimensional reality. We don’t need government or the media to solve this mystery for us. Going back and reading my Jacques Vallee books is so darn comforting. A real friend !!
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
Yes…. an image …..repetition… a song.
is a good thing… if you have a message to share..
“I have a different idea of elegance. I don’t dress like a fop, it’s true, but my moral grooming is impeccable. I never appear in public with a soiled conscience, a tarnished honor, threadbare scruples, or an insult that I haven’t washed away. I’m always immaculately clean, adorned with independence and frankness. I may not cut a stylish figure, but I hold my soul erect. I wear my deeds as ribbons, my wit is sharper than the finest mustache, and when I walk among men, I make truths ring like spurs.”
― Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac
Years ago, when I read Cyrano de Bergerac, I have attended to his words with passion. It makes it hard for me to dress. But I dress in a comfortable honest fashion. Since I was a child, I have always loved boots, hats, and jackets.
Always containing and holding the passion of my soul within them. Until I read Rostand’s book, I never knew that there was someone else that saw fashion as I do. Words too are a type of clothing for me with the same regards as “I hold my soul erect.”
The creative process as well. Ideas and passions are “deeds as ribbons.” I tend to make a mockery of what is cool or fashionably beautiful. “Threadbare scruples, or an insult that I haven’t washed away.”
Green or black tennis shoes, straight leg pants and t-shirts and my Jester outfits hanging in my closet are my “different idea of elegance.” Inside me are goals that do not aspire to the latest fashions but instead inspire to the sensations of my mind, heart, and soul.
I have been thinking about William Blake a lot lately. If I could address the inspiration of his “thought body” and “creative soul,” I would dress like him because this is what pulls me. The perfection of his creative dress. I ponder on this and think about how it might be possible to dress to that place of his soul? To be covered by such a sensational creative sense of fashion?
“Blake was not just the author. He also illustrated it, engraved the entire text and the pictures by hand on copper plates, printed it, and hand-colored every copy so that no two were alike. He had even developed the process by which his books were produced and had prepared his own paints.” *
Sad to say here I do dress like a “Fop.”
Yet I am trying to better myself. You see Blake and Bergerac inspire me to make my “truths ring like spurs.” Did I get that right…??
*Enjoying “The Book of Thel” by William Blake Ed Friedlander, M.D. http://www.pathguy.com/thel.htm
old song that still seems fresh and new??? How can this be??
Being alive we are all touched by many things. Music especially moves me. It is a powerful touch! I like all types of music. But what really touches my soul, my human condition is Jazz. It touches me and pulls me in to a connection with life as a link up. With all the crazy times… good and bad, Jazz incarnates me into the real world.
“It is fucking ok to be a human and feel what I am feeling, think what I am thinking … even love and hate what I do!!”
Jazz is my musical mixing factor of being in a good groove with the world. In times like ours Jazz cools me off from the fire of my emotional soul and makes me feel clean…and just OK!!
The world can be a big pain in the ass, but while I am listening to Jazz…
“It be cool…to be a human being…regardless!!”
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/
Questioning change and our contemporary world… I feel is a healthy thing to do. It may not be part of the Status quo to see through the eyes of my two friends here, but it is wonderfully real and takes me to many a dark midnight, lit by their friendly fires of wisdom.
Unknown to one another Goethe and Blake meet in anathematizing Newton.
~ Great Writings of Goethe, Stephen Spender
Night Thoughts;
You I pity, twice unhappy stars, Being lovely, blessed with bright effulgence, Gladly shedding light for ships in danger, Yet by gods and mortals unrewarded: Love you cannot, never yet knew love! But incessantly eternal hours Move your ranks through vast celestial spaces. O, what distant journeys you’ve completed Since, reposing in my loved one’s arms, You and midnight wholly I forgot.
~ Goethe, Translated By Michael Hamburger.
I take two pills as symbolic of something more…and yes, I take them whenever the two pills present their medicine to me. I have gobbled them down like a feverish child in the dark. Wondering why they are there and why they have inspired me so. In fact, I was just deep in thought wondering why I love them so. Holding nothing of my usual shyness or mistrust against them ever. But how can two symbolic pills be them?
One is William Blake, and one is Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe. One English and one German. They fill me from the inside out making; sense out of life, light out of darkness and hope out of failure.
I am not an expert on either one. I have many books about them. I reflect on their work, and I often only need one very small pill, of either of them, to awaken my healing to something better than the mundane life I often live.
To anticipate answers in a creative spark. Their art and words open onto me as if a wonderful knowing of a strange land forgotten. They know imagination and all the powers there of.
This is the medicine in their pills to me. Their comprehensive approach to life is put forth in their creations. I will continue to take them as my extramundane pills.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/red-pill-blue-pill/
