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sometimes it seems like nobody cares.

sometimes, i’m glad it seems like nobody cares…

my sarcasm has gotten much, much better!  this i attribute to the greatest mystery of all time, or at least, pretty close.  like sweety above is displaying like ancient Vanna White on wheel of ultimate fortune, pointing at, well, yes, i said it was a mystery…

thank Goodness for someone else, like my sweety, who understands the difference between ascension and merely “falling in love.”  the depth of my mission is such that it becomes confusing, occasionally...but such is the ascension that there are those like sweety, who i only need to think of a little bit and she shocks me back into remembering the mission…

if anything is proof, to me, of the ascension and my role in it, it is the art that i have been making in the last couple of years.  i look at it and i say ‘why do this? what’s the point?’ because it’s Art. it’s creativity. purely, something is being created. not just rehashed, slapped together, copying...creativity.  like the outer edge of the cosmos. new. creation. creations…

it’s part the pain of the past.  i may have been ripped off, but...unlike those who ripped me off, i can keep creating.  they can NOT create at all, and i keep creating, and now, well, i know about THEM and how they are.   it’s the value of callus and scar material. i’m tougher and they can’t rip me off again. and what they tried to take falls apart for them.  they thought they were so fucking smart...they are bitter failures, they have NOTHING. there’s no value in what they tried to steal from me, for them. it was futile - for them.  and I GOT STRONGER ALL AROUND.

“So long, and thanks for all the fish…”

it’s the archetypes, the things behind things.  Art. Pure art, fine art, the stuff that imitates life!

and at least three vehicles...a lesser vehicle, a greater vehicle, and the secret vehicle...here “Buddhism” is seen as “a dirty trick” by “nazi punks” who deserved “a comeuppance” “once and for all”

Art!  You know...the stuff that Mr. Logan teaches.  That’s why he won’t put down the knives. He can’t.

He’s an artist!

“Art, for Art’s Sake.”  those morons who said “NO!” to Art for Art’s sake, they got the criticism they deserve from the world of people who knew what (punk) Art was REALLY all about.  They don’t deserve me, or any more of my time than that.

Art for art’s sake, art for the souls of the artists who need to express our souls.  Art for soular energy…

(it’s a word, now.)

and the punchlines?

Punchlines are how the beatniks beat Nixon.

It’s still going on!  Stupid Nixon. Stupid Watergate.

And Norman Vincent Peale, the angel on my shoulder.

Is it Live, or Is It Memorex?  

Is It Mal, or Is It Greyface?

People wanted tantric siddhis, looked for ‘em, got ‘em and didn’t realise it.  It’s still echoing...the sheer desire for something Good to happen, something more beautiful than what Nixon and his Establishment were offering America, hippy counterculture and the world.  They chose confusion because they knew what they wanted...basically, but not specifically. Something basically “the opposite” of what Nixon (and Nixon was a form of Greyface, it is sure) and his Establishment were selling the world.  To some people, Principia Discordia is a substitute for The Bible. That’s cool with me. To me, it is better, superior and more pure in every way without exception than that tired and twisted tome…

Nextish:

The Hollow Cost Of Hell

(We thought of it first)

Hail, Eris!

Triple Goddess, Original Perfect Mind,

Mother, Maiden, Crone,

Sister, Daughter, Mother,

Blessed Be Us To Know Of Thee!

And Your liberty spikes, so pink and perfect!