Welcome to some idiosyncratic and strangely synoptic autobiography again, but more open, easyergoing and extroverted, about me and people who figured in my life, whom I learnt from, worked, played and/or fell in love with for weeks or months intermittently, (record stay in one place during the past 17 years is 3 months: Saudi Arabia, Seattle, upstate NY, Vienna and Amsterdam), hippy hearty handy and/or heady engagements; close, but not quite severing nor (p)retied or tried blood ties Will they bubble forth again after being beaten, brittled and buried in the battle with spirit bonds? Somewhat skeptical notes about body electronician John Ray's seminar, mostly (again) cryptic and convolutedly faultfinding focus on and abstracts about encounters with peopl . Table of contents: knots, weaves and braids of life between Piet rock and John Ray- x x - Therapist Ray x x a rehash on fire x x Ray's pupil teaches irridiscence x x Campe- x x --La Rouche- x x --Ariel-- x x -Kees, king of spades x x magnetic females- x x --Hillary x x Ronna at froglevel, Arkansas x x Louise- x x -Kita-- x x --Deena-- x x -Neysa- x x --Anne x x Hairy root preroute featured Susie x x
the sources for this chapter on sociablility and community: "The intentional '91 community guide", 300 US based besides 50 foreign ones are listed with selfdescriptions published by the Center for communal studies, 8600, University Blvd, Evansville, In 47712, USA x x x Community magazine c/o Sandhill Farm, Rt 1 Box 155, Rutledge Mo 63563 x x x Diggers and Dreamers a community guide for the UK, Redfield Comm. Winslow, Bucks, MK18 3LZ UK x x x John Ray (mailorder herbs and body electronic schedules), Alderlake Rd, Manitowish waters, Wi 54545, USA a real inspiration for community. x x x London Institute for Social Inventions, 20 Hebel Rd, NW 26 AA, tel 2082853, fax 4526434, London UK; they put out a large encyclopedia. x x x These are some of the story writers I enjoyed most sofar: Realistic fairy tales by: (4) Graves---(1) Hudson---Maarten Toonder (my absolute favorite, animal characters and profuse drawing, best reason to want to know Dutch)-- -James Stephens-- --J R Tolkien+- --G G Kay. x x x Novels by: (5) Robert Graves-- -Aphra Behn+-- -Richard Powers---Tom Robbins--- O Henry.----Bulwer H Lytton x x x Excellent cultural and psychological critiques from: (6) Graves-- ((3) Lyons---(3) Jean Joseph Goux-- (2) Arnold Keyserling(2) ---Theodor Lessing-- (1) Lawrence Rickels (see bottom of file) --(1) Herbert Poetzl- --(1) Klaus Theweleit--- --(1) Max Weber-- Leopold Kohr-- -Egon Friedell-- --Emile Cioran--- -Peter Sloterdijk---Lou Salome--Manuel Frank--- -Raoul Vaneigem- --Julian Pefanis-- -Jean Francois Lyotard-- Jean Baudrillard (see Kellner for a debunk)-- -Geert Hofstede x x x Same with emphasis on indiginous issues: (2) O K Maerth, (2)Robert Lawlor, Pierre Clastres, Gilles Deleuze, Felix Guattari, Robert Wrangham, Alphonso Lingis, Morgan, Lewis Hyde, Marcel Mauss, Aby Warburg, Franz Oppenheimer, Lawrence Blair, Charles Fergus, Andrew Bard Schmookler,
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Welcome to the future flour(y) pow(d)er fostering; potentially fastest and already the most solid(ly formatted) prose-poetry on earth to be sure: about 7 Megs spread out across over 88 files (averaging over 88 K'z colourful concept- harmmonized and hyrarchical wordsequences, including 4 megs worth of images, even) worth of contextual BLABS = BottomLine Aphoristically Ballistic Solutions which will (dis)solve all uncivilly polarizing centralizations, break up and open (c)lumpy niches and lumpynesses, wether they be institutionally animated or simply, inertly dormant (yet animatable), by pushing the logistic limits inventively, notably those (rocks) constraining vertical metabolisms (of trees).
See the navigaid (insite and outsite links) at the bottom
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Here we go with a brandnew intro (...well.....it moved here from my commendablinklist where it has been sitting since early 99:
(I call it mutual, voluntary, nonreactionary and/or reciprocal racism,) Is it on the rise, already approaching just right lube tolerance/tempermenture for voluntarizing? In the sense of autonomizing and freeing people suffering beyond ones borders from coercion perpetrated by other beyond theirs in a noncondonable way. For more go see my /list_posts/
The Dutch expression: 'soort zoekt soort' means 'kind seeks kind'. It is tempting to call out: "rot op" when ethnic overlap and mixing pressures finally hit home on the rebound and econological squeezes lower tolerances and raise tempers and temperatures (my dad was outraged I thought this a logical consequence of our colonial and seafaring history; not to mention the greed for cheap labour). Ironically 'rot op' (get lost) is just what a typical 'problem youth' (apparantly beaten all during his childhood years and already with a large petty criminal record) claims to have thought when he pulled the knife and used it to injure the bicycle repair man who had sold this person a tire earlier, the buyer had come back to 'ask' for help mounting it but apparantly lost patience waiting his turn (a clear sign the world was out to blow his fuse he must have thought; well they were welcome, he would oblige). The wounded bicycle shop man ran back to his succesor/apprentice who came out with a raised bicycle stand (they are usually flimsy aluminum things, not sure if it was in this case though) but he ran right into the already blooded knife in the doorway and died later; he was to be married soon and a dedicated artisanlike crafter (sentence: symbolic restitution: one guilder and 10 years in prison). "rot op" maybe a schizo reflection of what someone wearing a thundercloud upon their brow reads in their audience's faces; praps it was premeditated tried and true 'self defence' (I have a right to do unto other as they do unto me; another mirror inversion, this one of the reciprocity principle; how burdensome one's rights thus become). Most probably his claim is 'true' and he merely registers his involuntary reactionary reflexes. Either way I think it is time to reinstate the death penalty for people who think they have to use arms for other purposes than stopping those who do with all dangers of an ad infinitum spin out countered with crystal clarity and openness in the communication of public affairs. Apart from the atrocious colonial history, Holland itself had been 'spared' (and still can't seem to face; I would feel obliged to send the entire Dutch army to Indonesia to help fire fighting for instance) most migrant problems until cleaning jobs were considered below ones dignity by a generation of idealists who saw the need and fought for big time investments in ecology and pollution combatment. They caused the wrath of peers and employers who pulled in cheap labor from areas where life had been a whole lot tougher than for the unsuspecting swaddled, cradled, rocked and pampered Dutch populace. One of the most hyper productive champions of the 'first nation''s causes (Jim Craven) is horrified by the terms savage and barbarian applied to tribal stone age societies, even when the utterer is a fellow fendant for fair cross-territorial and -ethnic play; a buddy of his (Louis Proyect) can't seem to face the fact that many peoples have provably practiced cannibalism at some time or other in the past (I happen to side with O K Maerth who believes that is what clinched and culminated our transition from ape- to manhood. I feel the terms savage and barbarian need not automatically lead into degrading associations nor am I in the least offended by books like 'Demonic males', on the contrary, I think books like those offer a sobering perspective, especially to those envisioning bloody revolution). Sure Mel Gibson as the scot William Wallace and the hero in the Spanish book ("el nino....") Robert Graves translated are stuff dreams hero's and myths, even religious are made of, based and stooled on but we must remember ways which did not only keep the powder dry but prevented it from forming No male banding together, high standard selective birth rights (and all related issues like territories, etc) in the hands of women. Please see still more recent correspondence for a related writ and all the ensuing posts on warriornet.
Quotes (" ")and (perhaps all too often sceptical) notes from a 5 week seminar with body electronician John Ray (presently pendling between the south pacific Cook islands and the Queensland Goldcoast, enquiries can be directed at the Hippocrates Institute there): Bycause of his emphasis on raw food and remineralization (he ordered flyers from SR frequently) I gave him a lot of credit and tried very hard to penetrate the rest of his unorthodox doctoring doctrine, which shows suprisingly many and obvious intracutaneous parallels to microlife bitesize and chemical reduction of minerals, besides early leads to Winter's work on the geometry of memory and everything else. So, once again spirit meets body and vica versa. "A miraculously cured man turns around to go to work in a canning factory". "Fillings become teeth and metal becomes bone again.... easy "!!!?? "Memory christalized in muscle=DNA=trauma=resistance, etc" "Unconscious assumptions frame and crystalize you to stay what you are, those tendensities and resistances need "relief, relived and released", by all means and more than I believed possible; be they breath and smell, movement and tongue, pen or prodrod. Inspiring rock is a matter of squeezing 'm real hard; crystalizations within organisms on the other hand, the tender and painful lumpy spots contain a story of denied inspiration, cowardice, ab-, ex-, and distraction, they are oblivious, mute, rigid and monotone obstructs that sit in the way of an unbiased perspective, but luckily they are only seemingly above the law of mutabilities. "Pain is the capstone to memory, supressed pain is the capstone to the capstone of memory". "Resisting pain is transmitting it, being infected and sympathizing with it". I resent, or pardon, I (seem to) discern a faul blasplemy of the crystal crunching gospel, or do I? For now I seem to behave no less despicable my self, floating through my intercontinental phase after my interstately one, mounted and all. I must slow down to settle in a clean watershed, steep yet quiet and deep as well, a powderful spot of loose femininity. John links the emotions to the glands, eyecharts and scalera readings, coming up with the following rainbow sequence:
unconsciousness-gonads,
apathy-adrenals,
grief-pancreas,
fear-thymus,
anger-thyroid,
pain-pituitary,
enthusiasm-pineal.
The mainstay of John's philosophy of healing is the attainment of enthusiasm, pineal gland activity and transforming energy.
Strange little old Laura Riding by the way, collaborator with and bewitchmuser of Robert Graves and his intimate environment for thirteen years in between two four children marriages, poet in her own right though she denounced her work later on, feminist before feminism, directs accusative invective at what she thought of as the shiftyness often seen in enthused people, not mentioning the advantage of dropping mistakes and peeling off core covering (over)layers, much like Marie L v Franz cannot see the good to come out of the exterritorial, shamanistic and universal, flippant hint dropping elegance and sweep of little princes and other eternal youths though I grant her that perverted dandyism enjoys higher visibility and respect these compound capitalism condoning days. "What is my yin energy blessing me with and trying to teach me now" ? "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen," In the late 40's Ray starting pinching points, then came scientology and Burke's cosmicity. He looked at eyechanges since the early 50's, somewhere along in there he was involved with the 'I am' crowd, an esoteric strain from the 30's (incredible fairytalelike stories about hyrarchies within earths crystaline palaces written by somebody who literally dropped in through a hole in one of its walls after being led there by a panther) and meanwhile mutated, branched and diluted of(f) course, into Elizabeth Claire Prophet's books and prayercircles (affirmations) which financed atomic shelter and selfsufficiency installation by a bunch of her freaks with religious future and past confusing streaks. "15 micron is too big for absorption". Ray's method is a kind of s 'n m shiatsu called pointholding; hours long session of pressure applyer (pinkies to elbows allowed) matched with painthresholds as closely as possible to make holding the body still and relaxed enough so as not to distract from the mental goings on. "When points throb heat and cool (when you get tired pushing) let go, when they electrify it is unembodied emotion being released, don't let go" (when you are ambitious, dont mind cutting off blood supply and feel full of flattered beans). John wants everyone to compile a pragmatic pillar of desires with the hard ones at the top and out of reach, easy ones at hand go at the bottom. A practicing preacher is like a drunk rock. "Firewalkers, corpulent and starving people are numb". "The burning searing kundalini or pointholding pain (h)allowed while nutritionally prepared dissolves calcification". It seems to me that hot and blue burning kundalini fire can go round unclogged organs only and the passage ways clog quickly upon sufficient solvent; the kundalini priming muscles are the best pointholders in my opinion. Matiere brisant en mode dormant. The pot holds the piddle hide and hair. Piet thinks God confuses those who go too far beyond the reach of their limbs: "Repetition is the pathway to (or of..) the unconscious." "It takes memory to repent". Biochemics of reincarnation? "DNA recycles old forgotten cobwebbed homework" till done with approprietoriality, a balancing act on an erasure wedge? Suppression can mean repetitive indulgence, inundation, immersion and (in)voluntary wallowing. Theatre for the down and almost out, cererawl macho culminations of retching and screaming. Michwel bitched well awhile saying: "emotional masturbators, supplement sale scammers ", but he as many a one was brought to follow script and 'encompass dualities'. Intensification hammers poetry to a pulp and yet it might all be true, there may be more love lost than ever if I deny, decline and run now; all miraculous cures, all severe warnings, all reports on divine guidance, all tie ins with mineralization might not be idle talk and the subtle reckonings you imagine a karmamaster can conjure may not be the mere stage talent of John the team spirited hoaxy coaxy ex sportscoach turned in the name of Jesusing soul-shepherd. "Intensification serves 180 degrees turn you round," Turn you around?..run you aground!; lashed and lacerated, dulled, lulled and anulled in climax, the doffer in the coffer, how do you want your licks? From a dog that knows the ropes and sticks or a horse that kicks? Intensification seems perverse, repetitious mental masturbation, if you ask me, whipping the emotional body up and down the scale to reach the pitch that fits the slot in the mental body....it might be possible though. Try roast entities on a flipflopping spit in the bucket on command; ephemeral homopathetics. Ray's stuff is fully in line with airy fairy unitarianism even though he denounced some successors on any and every but competitive score as soon as they stop being under his wing. It warrants and does not stand up to close scrutiny, he sometimes seems like a deadly parasite (this may be me colouring the experience, I weazled out of the reasonable fees by simulating poverty and ended up making myself happily useful in the kitchen; that's the way I like it; being accepted on merit) that needs to find victims to rob them of life's blessings; money, time and conviction. If I was sent here I'd be pissed. Pay your money, attention and respect, so ray may stay in the fray. Power is ultimate monopoly, multimashional, dominating and diforcing: His artistic accomodation to his payed up knickknockering flickflockers of frenetic gullibility goes; "you are such a responsive group" the facts of the matter are not to be given his proffered, but to be all day suckers. Born agains and similar fanatics shrink from turning vices into virtues, other than trying to send them: "to the light now, repetitively. Does John sell jollies for stuck ups and awrynesses with obsessions of beauty, limelight hungry perforcers and gluttons with fried brains? And mine, is mine friable ? Do I shut down, out, in, up; am I another deep-end- dint or stint minter of wishy washy wooshyboo, can I make my proof hard? Knots, weaves and braids of life between rock and ray or John and Piet: The man is rumoured to have home deliverd his 40 children before he turned to supple mental gland juggling to feed 'm. "You lose your innocent reactionarism upon recognition of resistance and answer its challenge when you dissolve it. Hopefoolish faith is blind, real faith is understanding of principle". "Faith is prime leap force based on knowledge, this assumption of virtue complies with the law of obedient apprenticeship which brings experience, temperance, patience, brotherly kindness, godliness, charity, humility and diligence in its train" Hal Huggins wrote "it is all in your head" ( about toxic fillings ) "Keep the body still and hunt for mental kinks " (perfection without music?). Moot point pushing onto blind believers is practiced widely. Authoritarians driven by chimereal ill lust rations and outcome oriented desires exhibit ample proof of lost proportion; that is: getting too far off, gone and out, big and wide to abide by or even tolerate, although I certainly wish the AMA off John's and so many other valuable therapists back, the ratio's of charlatanism don't differ much without as compared to within a regulation-subjected system. Do evilreeking prehistoric kelp minerals like John's impart or exhume fumes? He believes in satyrs and centaurs as real beings, maybe his deceptively slight sex appeal threw him into the refinement of complaint business, he is now attracting walking and balking warning signs; intimacy is evidently amiss amongst the gurgles, grunts, barfs, wheezes, coughs and other gory details of life struggling to regain virility. Yet he managed to instill (in me at least) the awareness that we were on truely equal footing, all of us differinglyridiculous and dependent on each other with our widely di- and converging strengths and talents. His spiel on the necessity of proper scales minding communities was very convincing. Am I the poet of John Ray's unconscious level seven following? A rehash on fire (see chapter 1): Potential fire walkers may feel fear for fire, and then gravitate toward this investment, which swallows them whole or takes a bite out of and reserves a seat in them called the unconscious (see L W Lyons in 'the language crystal').John Ray said his methods worked miracles and used Bible quotes to back him up, he accused fire walkers of supressing pain so badly that even he had great trouble with the retrieval of their thus and thereby lost souls, the mechanism behind all this is suffering the gravitation from and attraction toward the objects of your greatest fears, in which big investments are made, sometimes all the energy one can muster, much more than you leave yourself with anyway, firewalkers will argue otherwise but so do junkies, bond dealers, etc. One wonders about the occult qualities of Bible stories like Daniel and the other text denouncing oracle and omen readers along with firewalkers in the same breath, though it neglects to specify wether the flight of birds is sufficient or if they will have to yield their internal organs, nor do they say how hot these fires may be....nor again wether terrestr- or celestial. One directly intuitable observation to leave you with: inner weather can be as cold and forbidding as a prime biomassively time priming ice age. I like what I see past sordid reality so I give it a squeeze and make a difference, "find the pain and push" on to let and get love through to the undone past behind it which then becomes herstory, set your sights on a vision all the while. "Ripen and deliver them braided traumatic resistences juicily enthused so we can clear them genelines for flex and access to presence" Neatest nobodies like the pleasure of retrospectively loving the deprived thereof past pieces of experience, hiding behind pain persistently enough to keep me really busy prospe-ct-r-ing, and if they don't anymore, nothing will prevent ascension one day according to Ray's theology. Utterly air and water damaging unearthed fossil fuel fire is going to carry me a way, but I am sure they set one back (that 's why I will be, if I don't compost this and any other fears, somehow) even and ever further. Ray's pupil teaches irridescence: The class room is full of baffled and perplexed but paying customers and that is what counts after all overstated staging, when the curtain falls. Eureka, the path of least resistance for fees is found. We no longer want nor need but choose to support these shifty roadside sign men, who up scale everything tornado like, instead of making a susty stand to break with parasitism which guisefully points to the light, to the light!, To the light what? Your whitewash wordmastery, Bob, your white wash!!! America's west in particular prefers prodigal puberty and adolescence (Rickels), Germany was irrationally childlike around the turn of the century (Wucherpfennig), let's now set a small precedent and dare to take the substrate of organics as our existential lead but this time take all subsequent stages of life into account. Freud and Jung both were spooked patients briefly at a Swiss sanatorium where people were reliving and reintegrating their hangup in the form of animals, they were counseled to mime and mimick them and when the therapist was arrested nobody succeeded when trying to reverse the processing he had guided his patients into, the same review of the book about this man (I forget the name unfortunately. Can anybody out there let me know?) said that even physical mimicry manifestations (ears, nose or hair growing longer) were "achieved". Camped at the Campes I learned more here than most anywhere else, it was here that I found lots of respect, lessons, liberty and last but not least: my first LMP microfiche for instance, and the global state of the arts news regarding conscious rockdust application, if not much about the theme of this chapter, my weakest point: feelings and their viscosity. Ariel: Ariel sees lots of space in infinitesimally little time. Dear Ariel, you greased and lubed my associabilities all of a sudden to the tune of atonement, at least you have that gemini quality despite your need to focus. I have a picky fruitjob now and dream of Guatamala, Vic BC or Australia (did that last bit since then). Remember the night before you left the landjuweel festival? I was flipflopping cartwheels; sexcalibrating wing wriggles and preen postpronement. Remember also the parting bull probe, were we guessing in your dungeons and dragons play and do derivations affirm and dignify them? But you guessed it, both my parents are born in the year of the buffalo and I have venus in taurus. The cloak and dagger simile on the other hand felt like a hurtful invasive misreading of my unfortunately pervertible, not yet incontrovertible mime and reasonably rhyming mystery renderment. A cloak and dagger wagger groping in the grime, hoping to find the crime is a mortar pestle or web-net-sieve and ram complex in my case. I would love to engage you for a joust with John Ray, notorious for warning against firewalking such as you used to tempt and instruct people to attempt, or maybe I will leave ya both alone and turn sceptic. He was my most frequented station at the Rainbow Gatering of Chzechia, his and mine were the only camps off to the side along the main acces path, well enough away from downtown smogcity. Sri chimnoy is a push muscler, a slack musician and an empty phraser. Kees king of spades, brilliant pal: First flesh and blood follow up rolemodel my age with an ear problem so he couldn't swim, born the magic last day of the year, skinny legs, big long arms, tall, lanky and a goal keeping breeze shooter, later on he shot nastier things but now he is back on track in the familyway, alterego of the voice that did the boomin' and sluicin', shrinking or swelling my fuse. His lungs were well stuck deep down tight, from overreaching flight, the vacancy I couldn't fill was taken by sex, drugs and rock and roll. At one point I was fantasizing about running away together, a playact of which did happen in the form of a holiday to my dad's Ferrari drinvint associate who kicked a football through my sister's tiny window once and died young for never explained or perhaps understood reasons. Kees and I went dressed up as hippy and dandy without scoring babes, but he found some dope and forgot all about of my good hopes of finding out what, as it now turns out and off, all the boasts and brags would be about, as I reminded him of his professed sexual prowess and that he need not feel inhibited in my presence, he said he could do it very quitly which is what I practiced for the next quite a few years. Magnetic females: Will I have to wait in a long time line for a buoyantly blue eyed, fertile fruitpicking and planting, rock-sex-carcer-n-ating karmaqueen to help me lay the foundation like a true candy date worthy of becoming a peerresident consort? 1990 was a very injury prone year, a bad sprain and subsequent cold due to transport choice problems and then some other refractory factors made me feel bereeved only to really spill the milky seed even more.being at Hilde, holding off on seeing Renate, who ironically turned out to be a greater tantrist than me, then again most women are). Hillary Lum: the shortest and sweetest little piggely wiggely and artsy lady ever to fall in love with me, called me the little Prince from the minute she saw me though she barely comes up to my chest, went to draw and suffocate in a Grecian heatwave, then married a tipi inhabitant for a while. We will always be good friends, that's what makes her even more unique. 2 seasons a year apart with 2 different Ronna's at Froglevel, Arkansas: "New earth stone flour"(a term coined by her claimant Mark, designing and building the breakthrough backyard gravelgrinder, which proved to be an optimistic boast of a black hole in the ground role p(l)aying business). We are stem and leaf providing visionaries, fending for fully unfolded and risen stature of proportionate potential. Hey Ronna, your breasts are prettyer than those of Madonna but your voice is innocently lightweight, which of you will suckle my child, who's milk will flow into what wonders wil?d I love you both but awkward now and then too mild. To try my hand as Mark's marksman with precision cuts seems to help my scraping friend a long way along the headlong (and short on body) quest for exacting checks, balances, odds and ends. The queer independence juxtaposed with obligations and family ties to be tried or not. Altogether this becomes a tasking spot with chimereal pounds of pressures worked out to funding in dollars, backed up orders and generous overestimation of engineered offspring capacities. They seem sinister symbols for yet all too solid corrolaries of jumbled sequences, interruptions, eerie chases and sliding collaborators (me). I enter my blessing hand unsteadily and not entirely convinced. I lay nothing down the way folks here do, but feelings often flare, change and rattle when I am blowing around ireverently zephyrlike. The immense giants of brothers: (stern)Vern (muleshoeer) and (gay)Ray(storyteller with a phonetic spelling craze that takes getting used to); both dressed in robes and building an earth dwelling with 100 pound blocks used as terraces on the roof and solid marble slab interiors. Schwanke castle's princess Ronna is a good sight wholyer than my supercilious detachment suspects. And then there is some timelessness to be brought to bear on a royally evil alliance between psychidioticly loose- and queerly fused siblings, that blasted a home and family of Vern (the stern one) far and wide, leaving missy gullible subjected to the towering infamosities some long furthrow. Enter her benign but absolutist lover to the relative rescue as true a Jacob as if any ever was. Finally lies and debt pile high enough to scare poor buddingly buxom bubbly out of there, though guilt and habit lead her back (with a blush from the taste of variety still glowing to glaring impropriety perpetrated in the face of accurately enough conceived, yet merely virtual paradise, yet to be resurrected, after all, Arkansas peaches were once famous, now they breed chikens and religious fanaticism). Of course my own 'betrayal' of its "froglevel" (near Texarkana) was closer to routine for me. Another place so intensely foreign to me that being there was like living in a movie had an even more appropriate name for a Dutchman: Neversink, it was a place where such jews as I imagine Arnold Ehret was, could have felt at home, who's writs about paradisial diets, their rejuvenant qualities and his repeated falls in to decadence had fascinated me long before getting there and seeing for myself that it was a way of life hoards and loads of people professed, these particular ones were from NYC mostly Jewish and came to this Katskill resort I came by one day tired of peddling my bike, I peddled past know what made me stop there, probably the New Agey name it had, though I don't remember what that was. Louise: One crossroads day my thoughts, branching off from fathers fear of clochard-dom for me, the fast lane fueled frustration with my fondness for feminine speeds and sensibilities, turned to a sunny home, lured by a Marina like woman (20 years younger perhaps) who for a fanciful moment, smilingly (smiles are almost invariably offered in return for proper respect, admiration, interest and alert curiosity, yet of a severe brevity with equal constancy,at least till harder evidence of attraction sustaining skills are displayed except in metropoli where meeting again is not so likely and so prospects on anything gained by a show of friendliness in the street, other than a change to slide even deeper into anomymity are minimal, passed up as a prohobition and a positive faux pas), promised plenty more of that attractive tactability which is easy to kindle, burns hot and glows long. Will she know not too repell or absorb it all, is my crush too aloof or too harsh, can we leave the surface smooth enough to let some depth shimmer through, is a male even the one to choose? If you approve, we will come to tinkle winkle sensibility together. Some months after our 8 minute encounter at the trainstation where I furtively glanced at her last name on a suitcase, I was in the neighbourhood of the Swansea University, where, as she had told me her studying years were to take place and I tried to look her up there, but passion from a stranger with a soiled bunch of boxes and bags on 2 wheels only just barely reminiscent of the Spartan golfcart it once started out as before many grafts from dumps, roadsides, smithies, cobwebbed sheds of abandoned houses, etc; is never very flattering, not to say spooky for well pampered girls. Kita: (Olympia. Wa, a taurus lassy born in the year of the rat) Tis unfortunate that the initially heartwarming (hot flashes) and on the whole pleasant 5 days, another 2 nights, three months later and a last brief audience when she was 6 months pregnant after I had prepared for her arrival, renting a room and field for her entourage including animals, this mother of our baby, left no documentation, it dematerialized as a parting shot the night before I left town, partly to make her feel more comfortable in it (she had voiced a desire to buy a gun to a mutual acquantance, how serious a threat or hint that was, I have no way to tell, she did have a sense of forward humour, buying but pregnant women do slip into the old odds of all or nothing mode easily, don't they?) was the same during which Brad's cat brought a huge dead rat home (of my host, a friendly, independent and hospitable adoptee, which is what she was, she never even saw her own father, something she has been able to perpetuate and bestow on our child these last 10 years or so, I shouln't have let her get away with it), my bike was all loaded up and ready to go with 4-5 pages of flaming writing, some of my best work, I am sure, (directed at holding her as connected to dad and generational foibles at bay though I had failed to muster her support for a Taoistically pumping prime sort of plucky fuck, I can't toss around big girls like that anyway) disappeared, but perhaps I will see a copy yet, not to mention the child we conceived during our 5 day encounter 6 months earlier. Kita acted like an angel sent to bring me back to the fold but I rank(l)ed her with the fallen ones of war, cling and clutch over, at and within me already. To cowardly me neither my dad, his money or a baby seemed unto the order of the night or much of any other, so I lumped 'm together as nonapplicables even while I was churning up a rash from her love canal and being mentally engulfed by her equally irritating eagerness to do a willy nilly, hostile or hospitable, incorporating take over, very similar to the one my father tried; until realizing this, I was undeniably but enigmatically attracted to her. Well, enough soulsearching for now, keep it friendly Kita, at least try. Concerted effort is audience participation; easy come, go and get along, easy give in, up over and out, but non coercively, not all or nothing, melt or belt, merge or verge. Fiery earthlings father and Kita tempt me off my eerie perch, I even feel at gunpoint and having to ricochet instead of calling my own shots. My habitually performed statement of aloofness which runs something like: "oh not this, it won't do", may prove a most untimely and more than usually impotent deterrent of innovation. Deena (kita's acquaintance, a 58 cancer): She had the heaviest hair I ever handled except maybe Lisa's an Ashville NC Vdub golf rebuilding smiley mountainlass. Sizewise a Kita sibling but hairwise the most extremely different, Deena demanded no unconditionality and our barter was fair yet so sleep robbing (She just didn't want me to make myself comfortable cause she couldn't imagine I'd ever leave (projecter she was as much as anybody) her lap of luxury again and if I was going to stay it had to be on her terms and in her bed) that I ascribe the loss of some hearty writs to it; messed up with my first trial and error cut and past efforts, Mac's allow consecutive text cuttings to displace each other rather than adding them up, I hadn't started the good habit of saving my messy manuscripts yet; (this goes to show she had me at a loss even without getting naked, at which point fear of the scabies my former housemate, a brilliant and highstrung though rotund and wideleggedly waddling guitarist living with 8 cats aborted our intimacy), mostly chapter 1 material about eageress to squeeze lovable things well prior to the obvious and comparatively superficial attractions of the specie sustaining procreative kind. Though almost as good as in love we womanaged to minimize bereaval risk and yet peepage led to seepage setting Deena to cusskold and rattle her chain quite (mel)odiously; it was her hubbie's forceful attemts at disciplining their beautiful daughter Yarrow at completely the wrong time; she and I were playing, when he interfered I was a Rock, she was extatic, which made me turn to my best friend: distance, with one more episode of viscous bogdoggedness to add to my resume full of badly served good ingredient accounts. A Don Juan who falls in love is like a Lancelot (see below) who gives royalty and wilderness the slip, I was like Jesus being overruled by fatherrights, my anthropomorphosized H2O concept (the Hensel inspired cosmogony featuring the most ancient bonds between 2 parts male and one part female had a great echo in Graves's work around woman with lover and child or rivals) is even harder to realize when children are already there, yet Deena ran a scan and came up with a vacancy that turned in, through, and out to be continued please, dirt cheap for a once in a life-full-time job, work around the obstacles and watch out for their chilly shadows. Piet toy ploy here tosses his commitment no further than she does her little girl inside concept. Engarde!!, sexcavation in progress, unconsumed yet effective bait is cheap indeed and my meditation remained seedless, even all too easy. Gentle, constant and easy does all worthwhiles but my deepest most archaic and unconscious drive is a wild clamour for instantaneousness. Two years later a sequel was penned after an enervating 11 days, the green limp file in my usually obscure, concise and succinct telegram style reads as follows: Invitation to subjectivity and tying emotion into gearing up activity, answered with objective aloofment, having a monetary promise make do, pervert and substitute for it. Politics and emotion are both inversely proportional to money and sex, like Aphra Behn had us know in the most hilarious way. The vacancy for initiating leadership in guided worshipful acts passed up for catalyzing participatorship in exchange for little space and less use time. All in all adding up to accusative responses. Things unoffered taken (her space, my time) and those offered disrespected (her leaky tipi, my budding commitment to a struggle with words of my very own mutant communicant mothering), feeding fear into escalating anticipation of negativity. The unwilling, reluctant hostess making passes at me, attempting incorporation with tease, tear and taunt, the willing guest desperately defending his expediency on foreign ground; pinpointer meets networker; emotive, expansive, warm and engulfing hungry heart meets and commotes the in those respects frugal and contentedly idling on minimal requirement since otherhow engaged, namely as mint mentality. The worst appelations were flung at full blast by her mostly: "you are a freerider, opportunist, a user"; and she is like Kita, derelict abuser and anger addict; reluctant host with disrespectful guest, an over- and an undercommiter. Do I have to revise my Lance a lot idealization? Lance is challenged to work Excalibur but it scares him away. His is the uncommitted, inconsumable and chronically consumptive promise, all tease, worthy of all taunt? The minute I put my foot down I felt the ground would try to give and swallow me, your idea of my usefulness with sprouts and compost were defeated, supposedly due to overbearing initiative, the only type tolerable being the question: what can I do for you now, over and over again and again, relentlessly. Would that lead to wormship too?? No, apparently not, I ended up putting some plastic blackberry and weed deterrent under a layer of beautybark. She was blind to my needs and I played blind to hers after casting mine in bottomless ears with censored hearing at best. Is that the price or prize of a reactionary melody, a conditional attunement? The little enzymatic digestive of a retrochat showed us sticking to our guns, same old facts, but the weight of unbudgable habit estimated more closely after a strain at it. Overestimated compromisability and willingness to sacrifice, its self effacing front of friendliness pruned back to self sufficiency leaving a naked but sturdy stock throw back of each onto their own resources till the next courageous graft. Thwarted expectations loom large enough to lose sight of gratefulness. She made the time off limits well in advance, so I took the space invasively beligerentlike, however much I tried to have her make allowances, due to my mere temporary in any case, embellishing presence; she might know me for a pied piper but she calls the tune, allocation at crosspurposes, mocking our best intentions, the wheel is static and flat, the ball is round and rolling, love never lost, labour never consumed. I pushed her friendship and tested her love, instead of proving mine in the real land of limitation, usually looked over from safe heights of abstract, exclusive and choice places, only occasionally dipping in, but probably quite unlike my hero Antaeus might have done, to draw substantial credit from forebears of deceivingly remote and inconsequentially dilute lineage far before bloodlines, sticky and dripping with desire, short circuiting an afford and demand all ethics. I try to concentrate mine for cerebral charge building but I am not doing well at this Taostic sublimation due to a late start and bycause what Lyotard says about it in his seminal work "Economy of desire", he has me doubting the feasability of fuelling anything but bloodlines with it, kinda like what Messianism meant to ancient Jews, simply their race, not some foolish figurehead. Yet as foundered feelings are wont, contiguity goes unnoticed. Hardened and held in clutching abi-dance, the abeyed future builds threatening pressures and the land of easily flowing, energizing abundance springs leaks and flash floods when next choice morsels seem to beg for the porcelain chest. All heaves and sighs froze for coily shelf life defeat their purposes, thus is born another lesson in callibration, the honing in on and scaling up of present blessings. Dear Neysa alias Earth girl?..pharmagirl is more like it!: I have come to love you dearly from the moment you saw me and squeezed me that heartening hug. I could not coax or woo coo you into dancing (what all with your giant breasts, short breath and lubedry joints was not easy, I realize), you couldn't scold or curse me into lavish spending on the brother and sisterhood (more like a dopehood), many of my writs were inspired by the rigid verticality of the sacred plant, mind you. Mobilizing deserves a riteful and deeply rooting place in man's dogmatic make up, I hope our break up is heading us that way. My mind was racing as fast as my body due to a pyrogenium overdose (rotting flesh potency, not bad for a butcher's son you would think; I thought I was efficiently disposing of leftover cellsalts or supplements and didn't take homeopathy very seriously anyway, what with all the biodynamic farming going on in Holland, but my body turned into a puss factory fo a few weeks). Karma Queen I called you, vestal virgin, never mind you made a living in LA doing phone sex, (I read you are a smart drink standkeeper at raves now and call yourself Earth Girl, paradoxically enough) I felt I could fill in blanks, brighten the dark, opaque and congealed whirly swirls of marbleyezations. I need to plan on being a hospitable quester, make my heart as big as my moneypump, and trade this long time standing fickle trickle in for faithin n trustin, I have yet to get sheets, paints, clays, etc. I don't consistently sport a large organic and ripe fruit supply to give me a laugh that turns on, cancels and clears, nor do I brandish the life dealing steel of my calling in the keys of Petrus wholeheartedly yet. The healing and magical time your heart's currents were focussed through my comparatively black, parched, wholly forsaken, wasty ways was balmy and joyful, expecting the best and seeing to it, through it and it through courageously. Why did I cut that short, deal you that poorly, not wanting to waste the market groundscore of nectarines on a bunch of home wrecking deadhead hedonists?. Why not humour you a bit and let magic happen? A boon and a gain to all karmic drivel, cosmic gravel and travel gear. Anne: Jaap, a mercenary descended from pimps and whores, a high strung harlequin of the worst sort turned toxic sprung a roar and bluster upon me, albeit quite gently compared to the treatment the party's crockery sufferd, his columbAnne mimicks him and mocks me with a no touch policy, reserved for his pitch of stop and go passion, Pierrot pines, his wit, wile, ruse, guile and truce at a loss, his bed empty. Jaap calls me Bambix, Anne fancies buying a buks (=airgun...antlered buck?), meanwhile her giving right side is congested, Piet the fist fight fervor fending and bending fool wasn't quite done with his tool to be able to avoid a mega bite size fight, his hand to mouth wasn't done turning into foot to root yet. Pilgrim pageants playing the trouble doer dog spell make slow progress down the realization road. . Hairy root (p)rerout featuring Susie: Dear Susie, a memory of the sentiment you expressedstill echoes, lingers and burns, you read me as clear as a mirror returns,was the image as implausible as it seems to be now?Senseless identity, mindful symmetry, will to stay the moment,attraction braced for its own sake, potential circling the planet in no time flat, mustering and mediating cellular resonance with the heavens, heartfelt empathy, where with all yonder and afore,extatic process is shared by the score.Why is it I cannot interpret you as well? Wait,...I 've got it,.... I can tell.your life isn't sterile, ......not an impervious shell,.... I go it al(l )one in singularly searching urge, head bursting, tongue wagging, in constant splay and splurge,a mobilizer as never yet was, unfortunate, importunate, without a budget and so then there we have it again, the ultimate lie; the Jesuslike postponement, petition promise stopped yet acted upon for prone subsustenance rises to become pending and spending colour and scent from live wood. Does the loving tone get the loving touch or the leaky squeal the rawest deal? There is little ungravel revelry travelling in preview right now. Your scaffold, my bubble breath, your sandy beach, my footstep, your clay, my sun, your wax, my stamp, your blueprint, my red hammer, your contourage,my aim, your freedom, my direction......our water? My minds mettle may have blinding focus yet I can spread to filter into homelyer cozpaces and my soul did seem to fit like a glove, did you spell and spin it out to excorsize it from its house of mirrors? So why do without the body? Did I preempt your use of it, leave you in anticipation as a feint, a warning bycause you were half melted and I had to prove us wrong cause my mind must wonder and divorce all bodily comfort as well as harmor? 36 hours later I knew you were headed for water to meet or shed and I remained trapped, I haven't heard the early birds since. Things got worse, the homey hints of Lauren toting jars were left without taking the lifeline to sprout power, later at Juliette my missing two chances twice was complete from over due faith and fend for Harry, prejudice and pride in his favor, betraying my lord of harmonious change karma for a substitute family-filiation leaving the raw kitchen contacts undone; Harry is extremely polite and conversely protective of his cherished stocks in trade. Never a good time to come and stay? Not with Linda, to whom I wrote my first poetry while reading a lot of my first Graves (not included here, too much of a faultfinding exercise), Barbara, my illigit streetmusician wife from Montana, who's fruitbox library contained the first copy of "The White Goddess" I ever saw, Ronna, purity from the middle of nowhere, not even with mama according to Marina, she shaman,...not with Kita, fancy wrappers and all......not with Deena, natural wealth with a voice....not with any of the so many more........with Madonna, not with all of my favorite people together in a heavenly community of hearts, hands and heads gathering together??? Iris: Iris has the inner shakes cause she doesn't do the shake out externally. Does she rerun a for good an' golden old time sake hit to show off or is she perhaps anticipating plane vibrations underworld unraveller and overworld traveller as she could be with a name like hers? If we have a task in common it would be the sift, shift, sieve, strain, classify, screen, wring and sexorbitalentedly sung sing song, not much longer senseless sphincter squirt of the rainbow maze momentum chases which leave all races their spaces whenever rain falls where-ever her strenuous prayer calls. I hate repetitions unless rehearsing some provisionary repertoir, perhaps I am a jealous lover after all. There are so few bits on and by Rickels on the net that I have rescued one of the few now retrievable: http://www.univie.ac.at/Wissenschaftstheorie/srb/cyber/gen3.html#rickels2 (part of the Cyber Semiotic Institute home page with Gary Genosko as instructor): Both Lacan and McLuhan appeared on 'primal time television', to use a phrase coined by Lawrence Rickels, broadcasts in France in the early 1970s. While Lacan's appearance may have alarmed certain bookish Lacanians who feared that by massaging the masses psychoanalysis said nothing at all, Lacan himself spoke in the name of 'non-idiots' (analysts) and, presumably, 'idiots' (non-analysts) as well. If it didn't make a difference to Lacan that he spoke in the name of the 'public' before the blackboard in his seminar or the couch potatoes - no pun intended! - glued to their television screens, it was because he addressed neither of their gazes, which he claimed were really only one. But this is just the sort of difference upon which McLuhan's theory of media rested. To be fair to Lacan, he recognized that the mass media had psychical effects linked to technological developments, a lesson he learned and adapted brillantly by appeals to a variety of media, not from McLuhan, but from 'Freud's analogical hook-up of technology and the unconscious' (Rickels 1990: 43). For Lacan, McLuhan's mediatic extensions of man could not account for what was more than themselves. He is obviously still active at the U of Ca in Santa Barbara but seems to be disenchanted with text or doesn't want to throw it for grabs on the net or is too busy with his work on Nazi mass psychology with gay aspects featuring prominent (he promised to come forth with a tome ages ago already). Either way his controbution to a recent project ( www.arts.ucsb.edu/terminals/rickles/rickles.html 3rd of june) contains all of 7 words not counting his name.
(stat
installed) end of october 98
Is this
the only disfunctionalcounter(ring)
culture
left?
Half
of this site was created/gestating during the 80ties (links
thereto are in the table of contents for instance) and
the rest since then (latest files at tops
of all content files). Last
corrections/updates and add ontos: late july 99; last
major corrections to this file: 1997; last additions: 98; last minor corrections:
july 99;
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A site navigaid: Switch to soundbite sampled files of the newer works at this site from Blabsabs_Index.htm Use the links in the latter half to reach my older work (via appetizing one or two line characterizations of the aphorisms, essays and segments, which vary in size from a few lines to a page or two)(those with titles are listed in the table_of_contents.htm) These most mulled over bits are again briefly described (differently, including proper name plus keyword source(l)inks) in the abstracts file. One may prefer to switch to my guest appearances and check my credentials first (sometime anyway I hope): /intro_to_currency_issues.htm. Then there is the off the cuff stuff: my several (11 files) list picks and interactions via: table of contents for all list post files. And finally my (another 11 file): correspondence collection.
(Only
partly hypered) link files at
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commendablinklist.htm
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new_links
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recent_links.htm
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fifth_linklist.htm
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