Writings: Dearest fellow “demographians”…
Dearest fellow “demographians”…
By dint of luck, survival, and a dollop of God’s grace, it took nearly 45 years for me to learn the difference between a ‘lifestyle’ and a ‘culture’. The life I lived before was only the intimation of a lifestyle, a set of likes, dislikes, and inherited tendencies from lists and mentors and the like. We now know that it may in fact take years to develop and find a sense of culture. Only since coming of age, and being invited to live here, in Italy, have I learned to understand and appreciate, coming of age in a living, as yet thriving culture. The young and impressionable crave a lifestyle, lifestyle, however takes more to maintain, than it can give back in return. Culture moves us on, and sustains.
LeRoi Jones, Henry Miller.
This space reserved for solar heating.
Thank you for your acceptance of Chapter 1 of ‘NM’. Those songs mean a lot to me, and I am glad to my heart that they resonate with you. ‘A Wife Knows’, I was a little nervous about, only insomuch as in Rock, singing about marriage is an even bigger taboo than singing about screwing your sister.
Here is an idea, let us do a FACEBOOK/MySpace merger, and collectively buy the MIAMI DOLPHINS! We’ll take turns being the ‘owner’ on TV! No More Drug Testing!
The more of our rights we surrender under the guise of ‘terrorism’, the more we become terrorised ourselves. We must diligently open our eyes, and see the games being played with us, in pursuit of more oil, and the control of the apparatus, necessary to assume more power, and the way that power is used to blind the public, and smear anyone with the sense to question it’s obvious abuse.
Since AL-QEADA is a secret society, we only see of them, what the unseen part wishes for us to see. At its highest level of the pyramid, it intersects with some of the same parts which decry them as ‘evil’, and uses them to scare the shit out of us. If that still actually works. To think that it is only a Muslim organization is naïve. They are simply ‘Blackwater’ under another turban.
I did not realize until this week, that JANE SIBERRY, a pioneering Canadian artist, and one who has also been an early internet champion, had changed her name to ‘ISSA’. WAY COOL!!! So I’m not the only freak of the week! If I am not mistaken, her name is a play on ‘ISA’, which again, is one of the many names for Jesus H. Christ.
It is the worst thing when your enemies come in the shape of your heroes.
What David, understood was that Goliath was not a giant, but merely a giant projection. David understood himself to be the real giant. Once Dorothy saw that the puppet master was but a little scared old man (much as now), she knew that the game was up. Goliath expected young David to tremble at the mere sight of him. Instead , he trembled with excitement that finally, here was a fight worthy of his own size, one where he was obliged to pull no punches, a fight where he did not have to show mercy. Truth is, they had to pull David off of Goliath, or he would have killed him. It was felt better that the false giant should live, and be all the proof David needed that his strength was real, and not for the feint of heart to trifle with.
Whether it cometh from the right or the left wing, bullshit is just that, in whatever portion of the flag it came wrapped in. A multinational company actually tried to get me to license some of my work to them, promising to plant over 12000 trees in the Amazon on my behalf. Is this a new jack or what? What about planting some good old fashioned money instead? I suggested that I’d have been far more inclined to participate, were they to have offered to plant some marijuana plants, at least a few close to my house.
As writers, we inherit back much when we no longer fear being ‘reviewed’.
Often,’reviewers’ are used by the system to chastise those brave and curious souls who dare, as artists to stretch and expand beyond the ‘genres’ set up to contain artists, and maintain ‘demographics’. Once weathered down by ‘bad reviews’, the label can then prey on the sensitivity of the artists insecurity, and lead them safely back to the safe genres they then fall asleep in.
So much of an artists spirit returns to them, when there are no longer a committee of people to pass judgement on your work. When one is no longer induced to explain, the work itself inherits more confidence. We can only benefit from the work we are willing to invest into convincing ourselves of new realities, and our royal place in them.
If you are one of the so called ‘zillions of bands on MySpace’ or one of the thousands of ‘baby bands’ as often derogatively, and cynically called, on the internet, you will remain so if you actually are dumb enough to believe that others are the keepers of your odds. I was considered arrogant merely for being certain, that what my odds of success were, were not for another man or group to name, but between me, and my deity. Your worth, and ability to rise to the level of your dream is entirely up to you and your audacity, and no other thing besides. Many will beguile your ear with their theories, but anyone else’s theory is shit, if you have set your brain already on the pictures you wish to inherit. No time spent dreaming and scheming is lost. I have done big things in the world because despite constant and persistent opposition, I have always seen myself as big in the world. This world, after all belongs to me, body and soul, even the parts that fight me. Grab your piece of the world, and shake it. You are, or you are not. If you are, know that you are, whether loud or quiet about that. If you are, know that you can, and if you can, know that you will. And when confused, know that the earth has memory, and will remember you, if you are but willing to remember yourself.
Fame is a form of trauma. Almost all famous people have the projected roots of their fame hidden in a trauma induced in their childhoods. Their later experience of fame is the amplified ‘echo’ of the earlier crisis, and the will to resolve. It is often the trauma itself, which first gives us the feeling (no matter how perverse) of being ‘special’.
‘Misfortune’ is so named because we ‘miss’ out on the fortune it brings. Not all fortune comes to fruit in your mind’s time, some is born to fruit in times of spirit, and it’s arousal.
A good work ethic increases not only prosperity, but sanity as well.
The greatest freedom that my independence has wrought, is that I get to work. Not to artificial time tables, start and go, start and now STOP! Now, we just work and let the time work itself out, on its own. I can only rest well, when my mind is suitably exhausted, having spent itself pacing it’s own floor, and finding abstract relief, in problem solving. Give the mind too much space to do nothing, and it will create mischief, just to be sure.
This space reserved for the storage of extra breath necessary to explain to non believers, why Wayne Newton is a rock God.
Most kids get into drugs, not because they are bad or evil, but bored. The smarter they are, the more their minds will demand, as compensation for being under stimulated, mischief.
Advancing our lame curriculum, and putting them to work would greatly alleviate the need for most of the legal drugs now dousing the flame of their minds.
Our wonderful Buddhists friends would do well to remember that catching a butterfly in a net is one reality. Catching a lion in a net is another. The net has to be a lot bigger, and it helps as well, to have a gun.
Peace is the left hand of the law, THUNDER, is the other.
When the past is no longer relevant, it represents a new state of arrival, when the future no longer is, you’ve inherited a whole new world.
….but should the ‘present’ no longer prove relevant, go get medication….
Madonna had to do a bigger, better deal. She has come to realize that it does indeed take a whole village to feed an African child.
Diplomacy has greater fluency, when there are guns behind the curtain.
…and more urgency, when those guns are loaded.
We inherit our peace through those willing to fight for it.
We spend a large amount of time working though our ‘obligations’, to get to our ‘responsibilities’. Our obligations, we acquire, our responsibilities, we know by heart.
Not only are there too many muggers waiting for you down Memory lane, but they usually rob you with ‘nostalgia’.
For just a few burnished memories of the past, we give up so much of the present, that the future will have no recall of the time we forfeited in constantly looking over our shoulder.
Who sees too much of colour, sees too little of light.
Again, we inherit the work we invest.
Surely, when your pride goeth, you can expect to fall.
This space reserved for those little eye hieroglyphics, that cross your eye from time to time, and are a bitch to control.
This space reserved for falling stocks.
Who rocks for ‘committees’ is blind to what the essence of Rock really is. If it can be beholden to politics, then it is anything but rock. There is no real bucket that can hold it, and you chase it away, and offend it, by trying.
It is said of the ‘TAO’, that the Tao which can be explained, is not the eternal Tao. Master LAO-TZU said this. He may have also said, that Rock which can be fixed by a committee, and agreed upon by all members, is not the eternal rock, it can never belong to the ‘Rock of Ages’ (that cleft for me).
If your music has to fill out ‘forms’ and paperwork, it’s bollocks.
This space reserved for another ‘Best of’ compilation, I’m sure to appear before I tour next.
Sometimes, the less a child pays attention to what is going on in school, the better off they are for it.
It is in fact a credit to our evolution as primates, that we know, so early in the game, what nonsense to tune out. Instead of giving them credit for it, we harass and medicate them.
Many children branded as ‘slow learners’ are just slow takers instead. They are slow to open their minds to the crap they are asked to swallow, and choose to honour their minds by just daydreaming, and expanding their equipment that way. Not all children are eager to be slapped on the back by the system, and rewarded for their gullibility.
…and naturally, because we are evil, and our systems just, we make sure to brand the ‘slow takers’, and keep an especially close eye on them….
If a child learns early that his curiosity provokes outrage, they will either keep their questions to themselves, and deepen their sense of private inquiry, or become surly and hostile to the process, so as to register evolutionary displeasure at being asked to die against it’s own progress. It pays honour to consciousness itself, when we kick hard against the pricks, which/who would ask us to turn our backs on that which has already delivered us, this far.
The real Death to fear is not the afterlife, it is the death you are asked to surrender to on this side of the law.
Jesus didn’t die for our sins. He died because the assholes around him were jealous.
We are here because we came to see us.
Extra ‘weave’ storage.
The sure man may listen to the debate, but only the unsure man debates.
For the sure man, there is no debate, there is only sometimes, the wait.
This space for rent! Contact Bob at Bobisstillbob.com for details.
Self judgement is not a strength, self discrimination is. The root of all of our prejudice, racial or otherwise, lies in our unresolved judgements against ourselves.
….and yet, the roots of all ‘discrimination’ (the light of discernment), lies in what we recognize as true within ourselves, and honouring it.
I repeat, the ‘discrimination’ I speak of, is the light of discernment, which all, who meditate sincerely upon their life, inherits.
We all cheat a little. The idiot cheats against himself, and his evolution.
It is not so much an ‘Anti-War’ movement, as much as it is about, ‘BUSINESS Without BLOOD’.
…We can make our money, without other’s having to die.
Negotiating with jealousy is pointless, and you will always come up a little short. Recognize it, and move on. Even haggling with it, steals from you.
I am not looking for ‘followers’ (who will themselves kill you as soon as it is convenient). I am always on the lookout for leaders.
Follow me, and you remain behind me. Follow yourself, and there I am, following you.
Burn, but never turn.
There is no reward in carrying a rock on our back, after realising that there is no reward in it. The reward is in putting it down.
We are certain that we are freaks of our own kind, we who are drawn to this way, yet we are also certain that, however we choose to express it or not, we are freaks that love the Lord.
Good wines are libraries of consciousness.
Sometimes our lives are more simply blessed when we don’t know why, but we just know.
Sananda Maitreya, of the Sananda Maitreya situation, signing off.
Had the Dollar not been so arrogant and destructive, its value would have held throughout the millennial changeover, still in effect. As it happens, the threat of the Anglo- colonization exercise known as ‘globalization’ subsides somewhat when the dollars, and their apologists are a little winded. It may even mean that some villages, due to be ‘colonized/ globalized’, will get to keep their soul, and the culture which springs from it.
Money is not the root of all evil, jealousy is.
No one really dies of ‘drug overdoses’, but of broken hearts, and of having lost the will to live. There are no drugs extant on this planet, that can kill a soul which wishes to continue to celebrate life.
…..and when we tire of living, when it becomes impossible to see the day ahead, we petition our Angels to be taken away from the misery, and its demons which bind us. Vampires first drain our energy, depression follows, and if persistent, it absorbs our will to carry on. To the law of man, these Vampires were but innocent bystanders. To spirit, they are guilty, and will meet their own demise.
This space reserved for bids for the buying of the Miami Dolphins.
Only other monkeys resent you for not recognizing yourself as one. A Lion could not resent another Lion, as he measures himself up to the size of his own roar. Know which one you are.
The issue of my time was, BRAND vs. ARTIST. Those of us who chose to see ourselves as artists, were brushed back with fastballs zinging and whistling past our ears. BRANDS do not grow, they cannot shift, whereas ARTISTS have no discerning impulse to resist the tide of change, and the new shells that it washes up on the shore. We were smeared ‘too spiritual’, ‘too introspective’, ‘too experimental’, ‘too eclectic’, qualities to be praised only in ‘restless Anglos, and damned should it race through, another tribes blood’. We have heard (the collective we), that we should be making this record, or not making ‘jazz records’, or ‘her name is too difficult to remember’, or practically anything designed to kill our spirit, and turn it into a BRAND slave. No personalities were wanted or needed, as personalities affected things. Only those loyal to the one true Lord, the BRAND, were invited to pay homage, and be promoted. ARTISTS, those annoying pests, were to be harassed, demoted, demoralized, and destroyed. Fortunately, since we do serve a living God, the hammer brought down on the last life, only broke open the egg for this one.
We were to be beaten into acquiescence and mad e to bow to the BRAND, and its place in the market. Musicality and its native intelligence were outright feared, and very much frowned upon. It was all about serving the factories idea of your ‘music’, your own feeling for who you were and your ability to convey that feeling to others, were traumatised away from you by endless series of games, and assaults on your confidence, as things and sales can be made to reflect as much the factories idea of you as the reality of the marketplace. ARTISTS were purged because they moved the BRANDS, and the BRANDS were not meant to be moved. Heaven helped those who could mutate themselves into BRANDS (and it’s related death mask), Heaven suffered those who could not.
One cannot place a price on the levels of sanity which return to ARTISTS, who have returned to themselves. Haggling with committees over one’s limits and stretch of beach, and how the waves will be, in retrospect, throws away a tremendous amount of time, and suppresses more energy than it creates. In the meantime, we study and learn. These are days earned at the altar of sacrifice. We fought hard for these days, we withstood threats, we were smeared and mocked. We were branded what was necessary to remove culpability from the guilty, so to be shouldered by the innocent. But we never lost faith that in the end (and far before), a solution would come. And so it did. A new highway of far more relative space and freedom, which connect our very doors, as WE choose to connect, if not how other’s would have previously in the old economy have chosen to connect us. Bravo to all of the other ARTISTS who served their time, and as necessary, took their chances, and gambled on the brighter future ARTISTS now have to breathe their visions into a world built to contain them.
Your mother’s butt is so big, that when she was born, the Queen showed up to break a bottle of champagne over it.
To a builder no stones in their path are seen as an obstacle, but as new building material. All stones, even rolling ones, are for new foundations. Let nothing, not even logic, stop you from realizing your desires or your old age will be full of regrets.
Dreamers must invent and trust their own logic. Today’s dream is tomorrows logic.
A committee’s logic, may or may not confuse a dreamer. One man’s business plan is another man’s burden.
If we are not willing to die for our dream, then neither can we really live for it.
We are not promised the use of our limbs forever, nor are we promised the use of our sight forever. What we are promised is life, and who is willing to embrace it at all turns, inherits more of it.
Who perseveres, wins.
Who possesses magic, simply possesses more of life, and faith in it.
God, I promise, will lose no sleep if you do not believe in him. But if you do not believe in life, you will.
God can survive our detachment to our belief in him. We are not equipped to survive our detachment from our belief in ourselves.
Who trusts more in odds and numbers, can never swell past the odds and numbers, to become a number 1. To look into anyone else’s mirror, and ask who is the fairest, is to mock your own game of chance. Who is the fairest? You. Now create your life with this in mind, and your life recreates you with this also in mind.
No one, but no one, has your odds but you. You are a winner if you say you are, and if you do, life rushes in to dance with you.
No time spent in defeat is ever lost. All hard trials, and all hard lessons, only sweeten the meat of victory. The time it took to get there, only seasons it.
Who consecrates their life to their dream, inherits Heaven’s interest. Who consecrates their work effort to their dream, receives even the devil’s help in time.
All bands are ‘small MySpace baby bands’, who think they are. Cynics have more faith in numbers, because they have lost faith in themselves.
I am now safely returned from our maiden voyage in Europe, with the ‘Nudge Nudge’, and our crew. We would like to soundly thank those of you who wished us well, and those who shared with us their enthusiasm for our new sound, which we were with your grace and participation, able to plant into the grid of earth, and hope for future trees and plants that spring forth from our efforts. We are also grateful for the protection and guidance of the elements, as it saw us travel over the highways of the continent.
We thank the promoters who worked, and we thank even the few who didn’t. A gig is a gig, and excited people are always bigger than they count. We thank Adam, at First Contact in London, for his patience and understanding, we thank Margherita from our Press Office for her dedication and loyalty, and we thank our Christ for his friendship and sense of humour. I thank my wife, and best friend, Francesca for her enduring support and belief, and I thank you for the pleasure of your curiosity, and the chance to throw fresh shapes in front of it. You came, we rocked, that was the only point that seemed to matter.
I also thank Nick ‘the sticks’ Taccori, and Enea ‘il Conte’ Bardi for the musical camaraderie and the hard work that they put into being a rhythm section. We mutually thank our sound man, our FOH (which means ‘front of house’, but which we tease him means friend of homo’s), Matteo Sandri, and we also thank our tour manager!
One day it would be good to see us musicians put together a book containing practical information to know on the road. It would be useful to the ones to come as well as those still coming. Things from which type hotels, what to watch for when trying to book musicians into places, how to rest on the road, places of interest to musicians, and stage practicalities as well. There is a wealth of information, and a good publishing house would do well to look into compiling it. And we all have a few stories to tell.
Even death mourns what it loses.
Awakening to life often produces periods of depression, which is death, mourning its loss.
Who has too soft a life, without a fit struggle to claim his spirit, cannot expect to experience the full dimensions of his manhood and dies within himself alone. Who struggles with desire’s beasts and them tame, commands the post of his manhood, as starlight commands the post of night.
Death claims more poets because death needs poets more. Death favours them more than life, and so fills up it’s ranks with scribes and it’s memory with words and symbols. And the spit of life collected, upon death becomes a shower of praise.
Where life mocks a poet, and their next of kin, Death anoints.
Our main ‘sins’, are in forgetting our chances.
….and from the ashes, Butterflies!
Van Gogh as a Rock God!
My music is dedicated to all of those frustrated at having to act dumber than you are, so as not to upset the man, and his very small view of us, which we are encouraged to swallow, and take within ourselves, and thereby remain small, so as to not upset the small minded.
The chains come off when we want them to, that is the ‘key’.
2 Rabbits walk into a bar, then are told by the bartender that it was a typo, and that instead 2 Rabbis were meant to walk into the bar. Relieved not to be the butt of yet another silly bar joke, the Rabbits left, though one stayed a little longer, and finished the complimentary bar food, passing the two Rabbis coming in as he left.
2 African-American walk into a bar, with a lawyer, to inquire how it is that every other tribe, even furry animals, get to be in bar jokes, but that they are just consigned to ‘black’ jokes.
Since an elephant’s memory is all that the graveyard cannot steal, you can believe that it means a lot to them, and that they forget nothing significant. What we can remember from one life, we can recreate in the next. So Yes, Virginia, you really can take it with you. Memory is the greatest treasure of all.
We are sometimes beaten and ridden hard for not being herd animals, we predators. There is no difference between not living, and living as what you are not. Know your animal, your beast, and respect what it is. Knowing the animal that you are is the difference between wandering alone in a big jungle, and that same big jungle holding itself within you. The life of the solitary hunter, the predator, must always come at the expense of the herd.
Waiting for Masters for your answers places you on spiritual probation for having fallen asleep enough to have forgotten that none but you can possibly have YOUR answers. It but places you in a long line of people waiting for someone else to judge them, and upgrade them in their own opinion.
A man waits for himself to show up, and marks his time with folly and waste in the meantime, and not a few attempts at appeasement with what bedevils his mind.
Most Masters are really in truth just looking for Johnson.
The only cancer to fear, is the cancer that is not yours.
Without our dragons, we would be too asleep to remember why we need them.
As one loses one’s mind, one gains a newer one. We cannot lose ‘our’ mind. We can, and often do lose the minds imposed upon us by others.
Mainly after all is said and done, a whole lot was said, and not a lot got done.
The times are totally ripe for an Andrew Dice Clay comeback. He was totally ahead of his time, and would rock these squeamish, ’where is my mommy’, pc suffocated times. Whither have gone the ‘Dice’ man? Bring him back!
I’m doing you a favour. ‘TALK TALK’, ‘Spirit of Eden’. A masterpiece from the late 80’s. As was the immediate follow up project (the name I cannot currently recall). The bomb, and pioneering this music was. Try to imagine a bridge between Pink Floyd, and Radiohead, with seeds also contributing to the sound later articulated by other pivotal crews such as Massive Attack, and Portishead. The lead dude’s name was Mark something. Don’t be lame, get your head around it.
A little bit later in that time frame, I also enjoyed a group called the ‘Stone Roses’. I feel on some level that ‘Post Millennium Rock’ contains some of their DNA. As have all of the music that has turned my head from alpha point, to this point right here, . (Ok, here is another point in case you missed the last one - : , or is that 2 points ?).
How suffocating race assumptions were, was the biggest disappointment I had in undertaking being the man in the iron mask, in the dungeon, while serving out my prison term with our old Sony affiliate. But at least I got to meet Dylan!
What is this ? ;,;,;,,,:.:._.-.:-::.-;. I don’t know either but tell your sister that she left it at my house last night, and that it’s really freaking me out.
As I said in Paris, it is wonderful to finally arrive at being an artist, and not any longer, a ‘black’ artist, which by and large I felt I outgrew by 27, the year I was killed by the system, and its collectors and enablers. I grew weary being branded as a name and marketing genre, and marginalized as a singer. It is great to now witness people enjoying the music simply for what it is, and not only damning it for daring not to be like everything else otherwise blotting out the sun, like thousands of fake movie bats, consigning the sunset to its coffin and closing the lid on the day, squeezing out the last of its smoke.
While by no stretch of the imagination was I raised by money, I had one of the best, and most extensive musical educations that a boy could have. I was turned on to the Beatles at 2, then sang solo, in choirs in churches, in community groups, in school groups. I learned gospel, jazz, classical, the music of the Carpenters, Bacharach, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Ellington, Cole Porter, Bill Withers. I was in bands that created their own works, and bands that lived off the works of others. I was expected to forget all of this cornucopia of musical knowledge and experience with the record company, who constantly complained that my music was (get this, it’s real): ‘Too Musical’. (Kind of like turning down big John Holmes for a job for being overqualified on set). Every attempt was made to get me to dumb down as excessively as possible, all of the music within me, bursting to come out. Every attempt made to ‘remind’ me of who I was (or more to the point, who they wanted me to see myself as) and most of all, meanness, mockery and rejection for the purpose of breaking, then owning my spirit, which of course couldn’t happen, as I don’t own it either. Now the ‘over-musicalized boy’ can get on with restoring the music flow and letting it come out in the deliberate speed and joy, the like manner in which it was collected. There are even a couple promoters now bold enough to promote it, and now a few new pundits, are once again searching the music, and its possible meaning for puns.
I never doubted that my musical sensibilities, and the passion which fed it, would see me through those wicked days of jealousy, head games and abuse. I never doubted that one day, my spirit would ride to the rescue, and restore me to my virgin places, and plant my feet on higher ground.
I am very much looking forward to hearing the grande Maestra Aretha Franklin’s next project, her own production, called: ARETHA: ‘A Woman Falling out of Love’. She has been quoted as saying that she has never been more excited now that she can produce her own music, and do her own thing. It moves me to see the Queen after all of her years of service to our collective spirit, getting her freedom together, along with Mp3, and other avenues that she is currently looking into for herself. Now the filter will be removed from the process, whereby some other executive deigns to tell the greatest singer alive and one of its most influential musicians, how to be the queen of her own sound. We anticipate that her sound will now come more directly from her spirit. Brava to the Queen, and God save our Queen, who we selected because we recognized her voice, and the spirit that it speaks for. We are grateful that she can now come from a place that only she and time can know, and not be expected to compete with little girls. Most women and men past a certain age tune out the business because no one speaks to, or for them anymore, and our freed up icons and legends, our greats, can now with abandon and gusto, remedy this general lack of service to the human spirit. The new golden age of music has commenced, and will this time include the legends returning to themselves, as well as the baby tribes who will pump it full of the new meaning and madness that it contains for them. We are about to turn this mother out.
We conclude by saying that we are most grateful for the days which are, and for the days that they promise to birth in return.
Your brother is so dumb, that he thought Geronimo was the father of ‘Eenie, Meenie, Miny, ‘Mo’.
The less an artist has to say, the more the emphasis on their ‘sound’.
As the shells are shifted
by the sands and the sea
so am I, though I’m too busy
to do anything but roll
and wave, as she. Those shells,
now the grooved cup holders of
our dreams, were once full of life
that burst at the seams, Molluscs
that could not repel, the appetite
of the tides and the teeth of it’s strife
beneath the churning , grinding swim
I would don a wet suit and rescue my pearl,
but I have a dry wit, and I am not him.
And to the waves that churn
Looking for fresh fires that burn
To wrestle, to mingle with heat
And return to the shore as a blazing seat
And the ashes duly scattered,
Among the sands. If they mattered
They’ll be redistributed by Spoonbills,
If it meets their demand.
Once the king of Abashar
Was sitting on his own knee
And popped back into his own lap
His new throne, where a pot belly
Used to be.
Once, the man on a fire horse
Came dashing into my stream
I promised that it was the last
Time I would drink,
He promised it was the last time
He would dream.
Our very own Muhammed Ali is an incarnation of the God Muhammed. If you wish to know how the ‘original’ was, simply check for the gigantic warrior heart and spirit of the life he took, to prove his grace in our current world. Blasphemous to some or not, Ali is a God to me, direct from Mount Olympus. Apollo, he was, and for real. Controversy? Yes. True? You bet. The true nature of the first God of Islam, lived out a life in our world, born in America, to share his grace and courage, something that is second nature to all Olympians.
We are naïve to believe that music’s power to heal and bring people together isn’t the very same reason why social forces corrupted it. I think it were Nietzsche who determined that it would be a poor idea to live without music, and Friedrich was right. Worse is living with what now passes for it, chopped now into so many small pieces, even the chickens just peck at it a little and keep going.
It is a blessing to arrive at a point in your life where you know who you are and couldn’t be bothered who agreed or disagreed. Know what YOU WANT AND DO NOT BE AFRAID OF THE WORK AND PATIENCE NECESSARY TO RECEIVE YOUR DREAM. Go beyond and without those ‘others’ with better ideas for you. There can be no better idea than your simple and true desires. Desire is the language in which the soul speaks to the heart. When we consistently ignore the language, naturally, and fittingly, we die (as we live), heavy hearted.
A fart a day keeps the proctologist away!
Be wary of people pushing you towards realizing their, and not your dream. We pay more to realize others than we do in realizing ourselves.
As I was leaving Los Angeles just as the series was starting, I am only now catching up to the ‘Sopranos’, which began airing here in Italy, a few weeks ago. Gandolfini is a great presence, the writing and cast are stellar, and most of all for me, I get a kick out of seeing the one and only Miami Steve, who was a hero to me as I was growing up and getting my cups together. As Springsteen’s guitar player, he was to me an American gypsy Keith Richards, and grooved, which is all that mattered. Contrary to reports, I grew up not wanting to be a ‘singer’, but a musician. The Van Zandt is an inspiration, and what a cool thing that he landed the gig of a lifetime. Life is insane, and sometimes it even pays off.
I can recall in the army barracks of Fort Sill, Oklahoma, having in my dorm room, shared with 2 other soldiers, a poster of Prince (the almost nude shower one from ‘Controversy’), and one of Springsteen from his ‘The River’ project. I had to fight to preserve my heterosexual honour after it was assumed that anyone with half a naked man, and a white boy on his wall was some sort of freak. I explained that I was a musician. I actually took a punch on Bruce’s behalf. (I may have later taken a few more, but that is for the book). Has fan ship any greater love than would take a punch for their favourite artists? I told the Maestro Prince later, of the heat I took for him in the military. He laughed.
…from what I have learned from him, I would take it all over again.
Fuck duet records, most of them really are contrived to increase people participation, and sound no more inspired than milk being poured atop a bowl of Weetabix. You can always tell when they are being done purely for marketing purposes. A thing’s intent, is the blueprint of it’s existence, and flows outward from there.
Your sister is so fat, she only exercises running after the ice cream truck.
I will take E-Books more seriously when the Dr. Seuss collection rolls around.
My first published book, a ‘quickie’ to take advantage of my 3 months of initial fame, was called ‘Sex and Insanity Sells’. It was largely a book of poems, and pictures of me trying to look tougher than I was, or softer than I might have been (the truth is usually somewhere in the middle). Many of you ask about my next. I am encouraged by your interest. I would like perhaps next year to record my poems for Mp3, for your private perusal. In any event, the idea of getting mellifluous voiced actors to read and record popular poems and poets, is an exciting one. Many of my old friends would ask me to record myself reading Whitman or Rilke, and I never got around to it.
I even sometimes used to read poetry to women before bedding them, to throw a little grace around in their minds before opening up the vaults, and foraging for treasure. It is never a bad idea for a man of culture, to know which literary classics gets chicks hot.
Growing up close to Italian American culture prepared me somewhat for my marriage. Nothing can prepare you however for the up close and personal realities of the whole family, and it’s constantly shifting mood and dynamics. As well, it is truly enlightening and inspiring to see the depth of commitment that even a dating young Italian woman has for the object of her affection. These women love hard and real, or they die a little.
As sensual sexual, and as beautiful as life is to the Italians, as committed as they are to politics (they are a very political tribe), ‘calcio’, the church, the real religion and passion of Italy, is ‘mangiare’. Eating good food, and drinking ‘un buon vino’ is so intense for them as to be downright sexual. When your tribal kitchen is as great as theirs is, the rest of life fills out its time around the rest of what is real.
With all pertinent and due respects to the French, the Italian kitchen is the envy of Europe, and they are the best coffee makers to boot. Ask the world whose language they most envy, and we say the French. Ask a Frenchmen, and he will say, Italian.
Hi-fidelity is not the key to my music, real fidelity is.
My next bold adventure is to have my music distributed by a pharmaceutical company, in conjunction with medication which I’ve helped to select, and feels supports the mood of the music. Perhaps as a part of the ‘HAPPY TUNES’ medication initiative. ‘PROZAC PROUDLY PRESENTS’?
Often, lest we forget, from the silliest ideas come the best. There are other companies which can support the expansion of music, at least its very excessively commercial properties. In fact, scientific research verifies that often, music and medication go very well together. Of course, I did the research myself, and in the back of a smoked out Dodge Caravan. 4 out of 5 musicians surveyed, nodded bleary eyed assent that my research was on the right track. As for the 5 th guy, he’ll be coming out of his coma, next week, and early reports indicate that he will also agree, more than likely after first words, which may approximate, if not include, the expression, WOW!!!!!
Books are certainly not dead. How books were formerly promoted may be.
I do not in any way condone the smoking of minors. They are very heavy, and hard to roll into a spliff.
Welcome to the Banana Spliff Republic!
If you are a minor and have ‘herb’ contacts, it is wrong, but do not turn those names over to the police. Instead send their names to me, in care of the White House (I keep an address there for minor stuff). They keep track of all of my business anyway, so it’s no big deal. Still, when the annual, or election time heat comes down about ‘drugs’ (many smokers will never consider ‘Maria’ as drugs, but as herb, period, despite the bullying and arm twisting), it always targets the smoke, never the popular ‘society’ drug of choice, and friend to politicians, cocaine. We are also not supposed to notice that since the Americans taking over in Afghanistan, good pot has been all but chased out of the market, while there has never, ever been so much good hash available.
If your ‘image’ is not an extension of your true self, it will kill you.
One of my new musical heroes is a Chinese conductor and pianist, ‘LANG LANG’. He is the bomb. Our classical music catalogue of great music is as important to the spiritual psyche of western man, as is the Latin Mass, and the collected works of all our important bloodlines. If all of our memory were lost, a pianist alone, armed with the music of the Masters, could begin to restore our mind, and remind it of the summit of it’s nature. Music is the constant reconfiguration of the memory of the soul, and it greatly affects our cellular library, which in turns affects and is likewise affected by our genetic inheritance, known as DNA. After all is said and done, and as egotistical as we are in our assumptions, we are motivated less by our own personal, and self serving desires, than we are by the mission of our DNA. We work more for the prerogatives of the DNA library, than we do for ourselves. It is why largely we sometimes appear ‘out of control’ and motivated by causes, bigger than ourselves.
It is not incumbent upon us to realize God’s forgiveness, but to achieve our own. God understands, even the heart of a murderer. It is our understanding which must undergo progression, before we learn the value of self forgiveness, and the sceptre we hold in our hands because of it.
The Egyptians who built the Pyramids are still ruling the world today, albeit in different bodies, and from various locations throughout the earth.
Properly seen, the building of the great pyramid at Giza, announced in astrological language, the coming of the birth of Christ, who in fact the Pyramid was created for, about 2000 years in advance. In his meditations, Jesus drew a great deal of energy, information, and inspiration from the site, a site he had been taken to visit, during his travels as a boy, and under supervision of his sponsor and spiritual godfather, Joseph of Arimathea.
Maestro Beethoven’s Piano Trios, are among the intellectual evidence left floating on earth, that we indeed descend from Angel’s and their kin. Were a holocaust to steal our memories from this coil, the Piano Trios would commence reminding us, and in it’s vast emotional tongue, seducing us back to life, whose temptations are not its tease, but its vital receipts.
As she is out of alignment with her true nature, she suffers, and serves at the behest of foreign masters.
Among the poignancies of life is that, by the time you finally get it together, and learn how to be a young lion, you aren’t a young lion anymore.
Without humour, there could be no life. Without Anger, there could be no comedy.
To you in Des Moines, if you can locate one, it would be wise to purchase a Sapphire ring of no more than 4 carats tops, and not less than 2. It will aid you in finding what you need, due to the inner nuclear effect that it has on the mind. In my own personal experience, Sapphire, a gift from the Hindu God Shiva, is a great friend to untangling mind processes, and giving a disturbed or even just tired mind, back to itself. It acts as a tremendous energy repository, and as an excellent mind filter, especially if you are in a job where you have to sort through a lot of bullshit. For you, a man, I’d have it set in gold, not less than 18 cts. It would be for you, better on your ‘active’ hand, i.e. if you are right handed, then that is your active hand. On any of the four fingers it delivers. If your process requires more physical and emotional stamina, have it fitted to the ring or the pinky finger. If more intellectual, the forefinger and the greatly under rated middle finger are key. The simpler the ring, the better. Good luck, and remember, you are luck’s father, and not the other way around.
The 2nd time is harder simply because by then, they know you are coming, the 1st, they never see.
… and that is why, in earnest , there can be no ‘comeback’ for Othello. Should he come back, they are waiting for him, so he travels on.
The BARSTOOL PROPHETS’ Mp3 project-‘Armegeddeon Drunk Tonight’ will be available for download on April 1st. Contact Earl Iago at MOORTOWN digital for interview requests.
I am a major admirer of Colin Powell’s and have always felt a strange and kindred connection. I am quite proud of him. I have read his last book, written by Karen DeYoung, who did an excellent and engaging job. I will next petition, through the freedom of information act, all of his library records for the past 20 years. Since our puppet masters can now, under the flimsiest of pretexts, make bitches of us and our information, no matter how private, we should remember that we can also do the same thing. I am planning on organizing a study group drawn together for the purposes of studying the Masterworks of Vice- Maestro Cheney, the 3rd dimensional manifestation of Simon Bar Sinister, and all of those old dudes who got caught on Scooby-Doo, who always swore that their plan would have worked, were it not for those damn meddling kids. After intense study of Master Dick’s works, for light entertainment, we will also be studying the drunk driving records of the current President (but only in the interests of National Security!).
I want to see Hillary Clinton become the first women President. That is just as sexist as if I were against her. Likewise to see Barack O become the first Prez or vice who ain’t the same old, same old, is equally racist. But it’s my planet, and I’ve got the right to be just as racist and sexist as my people are.
Sen. John Edwards is simply too pretty to be Prez, he would fit better in a Simon Fuller production, or host his own game show. He certainly comes across as smart. Incidentally, I am collecting signatures for my run at the 2012 campaign. If you can relate to the platform and interests of the ‘BONG’ party, an independent, sign up. So far we have received much interest from the right as well as left as research shows that the symbol of the bong, appeals equally and across the board to many. It is not a black or white thing, not a left or right thing, it is a freedom thing!
Grace is making it through another day with your consciousness intact.
When all that is left is misery and trade offs, it is time to grab your dignity and leave.
When you are labouring earnestly (and know no other speed) to raise a bar that doesn’t wish to be raised, it is time to arouse what is left of your pride and get the hell out.
When you can hear the mosquito, it is usually time to awaken and get ready to meet the day.
It is true that every dog has his day, but the wise dog who trusts in his own authority and vows his head to none but in grace, picks and chooses his days and their length.
He is a loser who accepts it, he is a winner who knows it.
The days which do not go your way, are only days of rest.
An artist’s job is simple: to capture a vibe and move it on.
Life is our greatest teacher as only she reveals what man and schools will not.
A man comes to realize that he doesn’t have to seduce anyone else, he just has to seduce himself and all is his to have.
One man’s pearls of wisdom are another’s man choker.
Regardless of whatever is written about it (life writes meaning, not books); Sananda is connected to the energy of Raphael and the correlation to Raphael in ancient precedence is Shiva.
Beethoven’s arrival was not just a generational shift, but had been over 2000 years in the making. Mozart was the epitome of Gabriel’s reign, its combination and fulfilment into our dynastic DNA and its magnetic cellular codes. When Beethoven received the baton of Spirit from Mozart (through Haydn, another angel), the offices of Raphael the scientist, took over the music department and began to alter our coding and its higher mathematics.
The ‘Velcro Lollypop’, a band from Newfoundland, will be releasing their debut songs on Mp3 as a part of the collective “Isis Is” project! Group singer and spokesman Ben Dover says that the group is happy to have settled into a situation with fewer sacrifices and compromises. The rock band, comprised of two tubas and a zither plus vocals, will be announcing shortly a tour of the Canadian provinces.
The man who sees himself as black has a lesser chance of success than the one who feels himself as one.
Sanity is all, above even riches. Because if you do not have possession of your mind, you don’t have possession of your money either. No matter how much you have.
The ‘Velcro Lollypop’, initial collection of songs will be called “Songs for Dogs and Catalysists”. The first single is “YOUR DOGMA JUST RAN OVER MY KARMA”.
Love, in each case, takes its own shape.
Misfortune is still connected to fortune. It’s the fortune we have no faith in and didn’t expect.
Misfortune is still the seed of fortune and takes but a little longer to come to its wild maturity.
We are downsized when we become too big to carry our own dream.
Music is the father of harmony and harmony the father of love. Harmony produces love. Love does not always produce harmony.
THE LIBERATION OF YOUR SPIRIT IS THE MIGHTIEST CAUSE OF EARTH.
COPYRIGHT SANANDA MAITREYA
MILANO 28th NOVEMBER 2007
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
INTELLECTUAL COPYRIGHT PROTECTED