Saturday 26 December 2015

Saturday, 26th December 2015





Saturday, 26th December 2015

A few weeks ago I found an electric typewriter on the rubbish bins outside my house. I love typewriters, freer than computers, cleaner and neater than handwriting, my ideal place. My old one had been decommissioned from service and so I was very pleased to have found yet another one lying about waiting for me to find it. I replaced the ribbon and voila. New nonsense.




Monday 21 December 2015

Monday, 21 Decmember 2015

What would God say if itself were here now?
It would say:

"Sorry for my imagination"

(For they are not short.)

I cry
I hurt myself
I kill myself
I hear you
I am listening

But imagine the worst thing you could ever imagine

I have imagined worse

And imagine yourself telling yourself to not think of those horrible things

Well I have both told myself that and yet been unable to listen to the voice of myself telling myself not to think of those things that I have already thought

Imagine your imagination being the imagination of God and then you would be closer to hearing the voice of God
But do you really want to hear it?

I am sorry
Monday, 21st December 2015

Time

Time adds the dimension of "Oh crap, I have to get ready for work. Like, now!" (which is what I am currently feeling). Or "Time seems to go on forever" (Which it does). Or "Oh, just give it time" (Which we usually do, unless of course...) "NOW! NOW IS THE TIME! I MUST DO THIS PROBABLY REGRETTABLE THING RIGHT NOW!"
Monday, 21st December 2015

Just one more - how people are like plants, how the branching of our self is a more complex state of the same branching system. We will have 'just one more' of the destructive element because it brings us some sort of gratification and pleasure whilst simultaneously travelling an outwards path of knowledge and wisdom, but also retardation and lack of motor skills. These veins of being dance in and out of one another, our body being the vessel between. We react to chemistry and psychology in much the same way that plants do. Feed us well and we will grow, talk to us and we will react. Whether positive or negative we will react.

You always need a thread - how it is the thread that keeps us tied to this reality, how without it we would just float off into space and never come back down. and so...

We are all chemists - how we are trying to get the balance right, how all things affect us, no matter how real or unreal they may be, psychologically and physically we are we are just petri-dishes in a lab somewhere with ourselves doing the experiment. "How much light shall I give this one?" "In what way should I speak to this one?" "What if I add this substance to the mix?"

And then out of nowhere a face adds:
"Inspiration?"

True geniuses are very good chemists

Sunday 13 December 2015

Sunday, 13th December 2015

This blog. Feels odd to be characterised on your past and not on your future or future aims, but here it is anyway see. Parts of me, some long-gone, some forgotten, and some still standing. And some all three. I'm not sure when I will feel as if I have anything more to say and who it is I would be talking to, I'm tying much harder to be a real physical person living in the real physical world see after living within my own world of creation for long enough it seems. I still like that world, it is comforting and can be a fun little playground for ideas and thoughts and creativity, and when people come and join me in it I enjoy it very much, but even saying these words gives me a slight feeling of unease, as if I really were 'the needy one', the child left alone in the corner, or picked last for the football squad. Feelings I would rather move on from, I don't want to be an emo anymore and this site ties me to all that's been before: the fantasies and myths and self-indulgence. But who knows, even though it is digital and would disappear at the push of a digital button dropping a digital bomb, maybe this is how people would know us in the future. One lonely soul finding another through their own words much like we have done in the past with books. Words are not always for the author but for the reader, and I've written enough songs to realise that some people like some things and some people don't, and that even if only one person is touched or comforted by the person you are then it is worth sharing. I have met and known some of my dearest friends through their sharing of words on computer screens.

So regardless of how I feel about this site, whether it is not a true representation of me still travelling on my journey, it is and was still relevant to the person I am today


Friday 4 December 2015

Friday 4th December 2015

Some people see kindness as a poison. It's not necessarily their fault, in a world full of hateful beings who often want to accumulate gain and take power from others it is understandable. Maybe they have had these people take from them, maybe their parents weren't the ideal vessels for happiness or to pass on the idea that cruelty could be avoided. Maybe they can be so crushed by the weight that they carry that they see kindness as a weakness, simply unable to comprehend that there could be better in this world than being fucked over and taken advantage of.
The world often makes me sad because I understand this but also would love to show them that more actually does exist. That not everyone is only out for their own gain, that some people actually do have hearts that would like to share heavy burdens, however alien and unimaginable that may seem.
It is rare and should be cherished, not simply thrown away like many others they may have come across.
Some people don't want to fight forever in circles just to release a perceived need to drill holes into minds to ease the pressure.
Some people are capable of love even when they are being torn apart

Tuesday 17 November 2015

Tuesday, 17th November 2015

Here's an old post from 2 1/2 years ago:
Monday, 27th May 2013

Rid yourself of these habits, cycles ridden to insanity. Getting woken up by early morning messages. Telepathic meetings. Never letting go. Leave. The house. Dropping off baggage before the flight. Sunlight. Walking. Putting yourself under the rolling pin. Diving beneath the cyclist. Hot air balloons and reading without thought. Deface the paintings, throw them into the fire and burn the memory out of your mind. Cast the hook into the river without any hope of a catch. A perfect match. A flame that survives just long enough to light the fire without burning your fingertips. Blow it all out. Only silence now another sad feeling that will never go. A haypile stacked upon shoulders waiting for the back to break. Don't move. Don't speak. Not until they have all left and then you can dance and shout truthfully. A silent spot disappears. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. A question. A real question. All scripts and no substance, only in the deepest times do you really know anyone. No words. A look in the eyes. All you've ever needed to know about someone is just waiting there. And if you care, don't let them know. Don't give yourself away. Still just silence. More questions, more cycles, another dried piece of grass. All this is now is blindly walking in a field. The end of the earth on one side and more earth on the other. Misunderstood. Potentials never met or seen. Admiration for those who make it. A scream.

Monday 12 October 2015

Monday, 12th October 2015

Words to the improvised song I performed with 2 friends, taken from the Alan Watts biography:

"A year or so before he died he had a stroke which impaired the peripheral vision of his left eye. When I saw him the day after, he said, "Alan, I am afraid to tell this to most of my friends because they will think that I am crazy. But I was quite sure I was going to die, even that I was dead. It was astonishing! An apotheosis! I found myself where I and everything were transformed into a warm, golden light, where there were formless presences welcoming and assuring me, like angels. How can I say it? All this was much more real than ordinary life, which now seems like a dream, so that I can't be possibly afraid of death any more. Can you understand that I knew for sure that this golden light, this divinity that I became, is the real thing? That this world in which you and I are talking is just a shadow? That we haven't anything to worry about at all-ever? And my God, how can this have happened to me? Alan, you know I am a scoundrel and a lecherous man. Tell me, what do you think? Am I nuts? Was I hallucinated? If they wouldn't think I was quite mad I would recommend everyone to have a stroke." Several months later he went to La Paz in Baja California to spend the winter in the sun. In January 1971 he took off for Mexico City, and before leaving, treated a group of friends to drinks in the bar at the airport. But when he got off at Mexico City, seven thousand feet above La Paz, the change of altitude was too much. He dropped dead of a heart attack. Six hundred people attended his funeral.
We mourned, not for him, but for ourselves that this radiance, this colossal joie de vivre, had left us. The Gate Five community of the Sausalito waterfront has been dreary ever since. The hippies have been replaced by "freaks", who look like peasants from a depressed area of Hungary. Perhaps they are not to be blamed, for the industrial system offers few jobs that any self-respecting person wants to do, and the intelligent young are sick to death of a way of life that wastes and squanders material for the production of baubles and bombs. But consider that Yanko, too, had no job and nothing to mention in the way of money. Nevertheless, he has left waves. He did more than anyone else to release me from pomposity, from submitting to false modesty, and from knuckling under to the general fear of the colourful and all that it signifies.
To go back. A year after Jano and I moved onto the boat, we and a group of friends created the Society for Comparitive Philosophy to sponsor my own work, and to use the spacious studio for seminars and for a library to shelter my thousands of books. Over the years we also raised funds to assist others working along the same lines, and brought in, to conduct seminars, the Lama Anagarika Govinda, Charlotte Selver, Krishnamurti, Douglas Harding, and the Lama Chogyam Trungpa. I have a mild ambition to create something which will carry on, in some respects, where the Bollingen Foundation left off, since most of the great foundations are stuffy and unimaginative and do not support weird scholars investigating Amerindian mysticism or Tibeten iconography. But this may well change, for the new decade is seeing a remarkable revival of interest and magic witchcraft, alchemy, astrology, mysticism and mythology which is invading even the universities and creating the suspicion that the worldview of modern science may itself have been a peculiar form of myth. Science itself, by investigating alpha-waves, anti-matter, holes in space, psychopharmacologym and the dynamics or waves and cycles, may be hoisted by its own petard to the confrontation of a universe very different from what we now imagine, and its pandits may say with the Los Angeles entomologist first hearing of von Fritsch's discovery of bee language, "I have the most passionate reluctance in accepting this evidence." For it does indeed seem that many scientists have a religious fervor and a vested interest that nature is only a rather inefficient machine-to which they must paradoxically ascribe their own boastedly superior intelligences. My own interest, however, remains with the mystical rather than the occult, for having seen what we have done with ordinary technology I am troubled by what black magic we might commit with psychotechnology.
I have said, however, that my ambition for creating a philosophical foundation is mild, for it has become by strong impression that human institutions and collectivities, as distinct from individual people, are impervious to grace. This is no more than a tentative opinion, but I feel that nations, churches, political parties, classes, and formal associations of all kinds operate at the lowest level of intelligence and moral sensibility. This is, in part, because they are not organised as an individual is organised. They act upon rules and verbal communications which, when compared with the organic nervous system, are of extreme crudity. It is this which gives us the feeling that most social problems are too complicated, for, in the same way, the human body would seem too complicated were it not that the nervous system-as distinct from conscious attention and memory-can handle an immense number of variables at the same time. Societies, insofar as they are restricted to linear, strung out, forms of communication, can handle very few variables. Therefore governments and corporations, in attempting to keep up with the infinitely varied and multidimensional process of nature, resort to words on paper-to laws, reports, and other records-which would take lifetimes for any intelligent being to read, much less assimilate. Yet for all these mountains of paper covered in small print, only a tiny amount of natural process has been described, and we do not  really know whether what we select for description are actually the most important features of the process. In other words, our social organisations are not organic.
As they become more complex and computerised they become less organic, because their code of communication-however fast and complex-rests on a basic confusion of symbol with reality, of words and numbers with natural events. When natural process is respresented in words, it appears that there are separable things and events which may be dealt with individually, one by one. There are not. In nature each event implies, or "goeswith," all other events in varying degrees of relevance, and we have only the sketchiest notions of how those degrees may be measured-for how often do the most momentous events arise from the most trivial? A chance meeting precipitates a marriage, and an accident in a laboratory touches off a major scientific discovery. I feel, therefore, that we have long been involved in an unworkable and destructive method of managing both the social order and the natural environment, and that our main hope of finding something better will be through study of the nervous system itself-and by some other way than representing it as a mechanical process. Until we find some such alternative (and I may be saying that we must learn to develop our intuitive rather than our intellectual faculties) I have little hope for constructive, large scale social changes. Society will remain a swamp redeemed only by some relatively few individual plants of fruitful beauty.
Yet it is not difficult for me to be in a state of consciousness where all such problems dissolve. I see that nature makes no real errors; that man and his institutions are as natural as anything else; and, furthermore, that my complaints about any situation are as natural as the idea that I have no reason to complain. Of course this curiously exhilarating feeling implies no specific course of action, and may therefore be dismissed as worthless philosophy, a set of general principles of laws, which does provide adequate rules for action, without first having to be modified into chaos with exceptions. And the sharper one's intellect, the faster one finds reason to take exception to any general principle. Thus we begin the study of Greek in school by learning the conjugation of regular verbs, only to discover that the verbs most common used were irregular. As a language becomes rich with usage and idiom it strays from grammar, or rather from description by grammarians, and must be learned by ear. So, too, life must be played by ear-which is only to say that we must trust, not symbolic rules or linear principles, but our brains or natures. Yet this must bring one back to the faith that nature makes no mistake. In such a universe a decision which results in one's own death is not a mistake: it is simply a way of dying at the right moment.
But nothing can be right in a universe where nothing can be wrong, and every perception is an awareness of contrast, of a right/wrong, is/isn't, bright/dark, hard/soft situation. If this is the very nature of awareness, any and every circumstance, however fortunate, will have to be experienced as a good/bad or plus/minus in order to be experienced at all. By such reflections I think myself into silence and, by writing, help others similarly spellbound by thoughts and words come to silence-which is the realisation that a linear code cannot justly represent a nonlinear world. But this intellectual silence is not failure, defeat, or suicide. It is a return to that naked awareness, that vision unclouded by commentary, which we enjoyed as babies in the days when we saw no difference between knower and known, deed and happening. This time, however, we are babies reborn-babies who remember all the rules and tricks of human games and can therefore communicate with other people as if we were normal adults. We can also feel, as just-born baby cannot, compassion for their confusions.
Now, from the standpoint of the wise-baby the confusions of the normal adult world cannot be straightened out without becoming even more confused. There is no solution but to regain the baby's vision and so to realise that the confusions are not really serious, but only the games whereby adults pass the time and pretend to be important. Seen thus, the world becomes immeasurable rich in colour and detail because we no longer ignore the aspects of life which adults pass over and screen out in their haste after serious matters. As in music, the point of life is its pattern at every stage of its development, and in a world where there is neither self nor other, the only identity is just This-which is all, which is energy, which is God by no name"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A song I wrote when I was 16



A wooden box with flowers on is floating down a stream
A requiescat is being said but I cannot be seen
I only went to her flat 'cause she was my phenelzine
And the people were narcomaniacs
They didn't know me
 

Count up all my good deeds place white pebbles on the sand
The black stones represent the bad deeds that I've done to man
The robot lord of death judges me with his hand
But he don't own me, were narcomaniacs
We're so lonely, we're narcomaniacs

I shall take my imago to Shangri La with you
There we'll lay in almandines and swim in skies of blue

I wish i could speak to soothe you but i am scared too
And my invocations have not been answered i don't know what to do
My prayers to God have not been answered, fatalism lies with you

I would tear you open but I'm scared to look inside

I believe you're empty and that's the reason you have died
I wish i could talk to move you but my tongue is tied
And my thoughts are with the people you deserted and left behind
My thoughts are with the people you loved but left behind

Wednesday 30 September 2015

Wednesday, 30th September 2015

Children in Superhero Costumes: A Case

My recently reviewed in depth time of birth birth chart stated: "Your comportment is pretty bizarre", I have been performing shows and the last one was this Saturday just gone which was a Nirvana tribute night where we had 90-something people attend, we played for about 2 hours and nearly 30 songs. I was complimented on my dance moves.
I preface this writing by saying these thing because life the past 2 months has also changed significantly, abruptly, and usually without any will imposed on my behalf. In fact the times when I have attempted to impose my will, by contacting certain people or trying to do something else, the world has seemed to shut it down and left me with no choice but to listen to it.
Sometimes we have to grieve and feel sad about doing the thing that deep down we know is the right thing, as hard as it can be.

1.
"No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from my Father." 10:18 - the amount my food shopping just cost.

(I just went to the shop for cigarettes and wine and 2 cans of Coke. They had flags of the Rugby Nations hanging up, Wales' Dragon, the England cross. The sun of Argentina and Uruguay, the nighttime stars of New Zealand. Some filled with fire, the others not. Strangely Scotland is Blue. Strangely Blue is safe)


If anyone has ever read through this blog you would have read along certain themes and had certain images repeated and certain words used over and over. Like many I have had dreams of the apocalypse, this is not new or special in any regard, unlike few I have also had dreams of being an enlightened being, of flying through space and destroying Superman with one punch, of sitting lotus position and floating upward and of having bullets hit me but not hurt me, of having dreams where I end up speaking through the mouths of dream people and them becoming aware of things that maybe they would rather not have been made aware of. (many can be read through, I have written most of these on this blog)

2.
Let me take you back to a couple of months ago.

The last night I died, went through to a parallel world and come out the other side, I also felt that I had rid myself of much of my 'black ball/black echo' that I had been carrying since I was younger, those things that we inherit, that we don't particularly want or like, that we then pass off onto others. But something else had also changed, the love in me hadn't gone but it lead me to where I am right now. The world came to me and started pushing me around, my will had been almost entirely taken away. Of course not entirely, it is still there now but I am trying my best to keep to the same track, to follow the road in which I have been shown over and over and over ad infinitum, it seems, since that day.

Coincidences and serendipitous meetings and happenings have been occurring every day since, it is now getting to the point where I do begin to question my sanity and whether or not I am now completely insane. However I must continue the story now as it has been started, the curtain is rising and I have my part to play whatever that may be or wherever that may lead. I honestly have no idea.

But I will compile these happenings and coincidences as best I can so they are all in one place and they can be read or dismissed at the will of others' choice. I am but communicating my experience the best I can.

Much has happened since mid-August and I cannot really explain it all, I find it hard to recollect it all as it is so packed full with information so forgive me if the following is a bit haphazard and confusing, it is hard enough being in my head let alone trying to explain it through a medium as limited as words on a screen.

There was the day I was meant to be visiting a friend up in Edinburgh, I had booked my coach ticket but having stayed up too late the previous night drinking I missed the coach but by a few minutes, I contacted my friend and went to visit his house. At one point I felt inspired to hand another friend who was there the book 'This is IT' by Alan Watts, it was a random page which happened to be the start of the essay 'Zen and the problem with Control'. This is what she read aloud to me:

"As we know him, the human being seems to be a trap set to catch himself. Though this has doubtlessly been true for thousands of years, it has recently been accentuated in a peculiar way by man's sudden development, through science and technology, of so many new means of controlling himself and his environment. In the early days of modern science the situation was less obvious, for the application of scientific controls to nature and to ourselves seemed to be something that we could extend indefinitely along wide and unobstructed roads. But today, after the Second World War and past the middle of the twentieth century, the snag in the problem of control is beginning to make itself obvious in almost every field of man's activity. It is, perhaps, at its very clearest in the sciences of communication which include study of the dynamics of control, and also in psychology, the science which deals most intimately with man himself.
In its simplest and most basic form-of which all its other forms are just extensions and exaggerations-the problem is this: man is a self-conscious and therefore self-controlling organism, but how is he to control the aspect of himself which does the controlling? All attempts to solve this problem seem to end in a snarl, whether at the individual level or at the social. At the individual level the snarl manifests itself as a loss in freedom of movement increasing with every attempt to regulate action by law. In other words, there is a point beyond which self-control becomes a form of paralysis-as if I wanted to simultaneously to throw a ball and hold it to its course with my hand.
Technology, which increases the power and range of human control, at the same time increases the intensity of these snarls. The apparent multiplication of psychological disorders in our technological culture is perhaps due to the fact that more and more individuals find themselves caught in these snarls-in situations which the psychiatric antropologist Gregory Bateson has called the "double-bind" type, where the individual is required to make a decision which at the same time he cannot or must not make. He is called upon, in other words, to do something contradictory, and this is usually within the sphere of self-control, the sort of contradiction epitomized in the title of a well-known book, You Must Relax. Need it be said that the demand for effort in "must" is inconsistent with the demand for effortlessness in "relax"?
Now it is of great interest that we cannot effectively think about self-control without making a separation between the controller and the controlled, even when-as the word "self-control" implies- the two are one and the same. This lies behind the widespread conception of man as a double or divided being composed of a higher and a lower, of reason and instinct, mind and body, spirit and matter, voluntary and involuntary, angel and animal. So conceived, man is never actually self-controlling. It is rather that one part of his being controls another, so that what is required of the controlling part is that it exert its fullest effort otherwise be freely and uninhibitedly itself. And the conception is all very well-until it fails. Then who or what is to blame? Was the lower, controlled self too strong, or was the higher, controlling self too weak? If the former, man as the controller cannot be blamed. If the latter, something must be done to correct the weakness. But this means, in other words, that the higher, controlling self must control itself-or else we must posit a still higher self available to step in and control the controller. Yet this can go on forever.
The problem is well illustrated in the Christian theory of virtue, which for centuries has put an immense double-bind on Western man. The greatest commandment is that "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God"-and, note the addition-"with all thy heart, and all thy soul, and all thy mind". How can such a commandment be obeyed? The addition implies that it is not enough to think and act  as if I loved God. I am not asked to pretend that I love. I am asked to really mean it, to be completely sincere."

I believed she stopped there, after me gesturing for her to carry on as of course it was completely corresponding with my own feeling. One that I had to get someone else to say what it was I needed to hear. That I couldn't on my own read these words and have them make the impact that I needed. I needed them to be spontaneous, to be random and to be read by someone else, and to be overheard by others. To have people witness it. It is no longer enough for me to witness it myself, but for others to experience it to. To paraphrase R.D. Laing, to have them experience something that I was also experiencing, albeit from a different perspective.

I believe shortly after hearing this reading I went to the bathroom, repeated to myself "Thou shalt love thy Lord thy God" and touched the bathroom wall with my finger. I was instantly hit with the feeling of Michelangelo's painting in the Sistine Chapel. That I had touched the hand. 
4 of us then left the house and I felt as if I were in a lucid dream, one friend remarked (as I was wearing a woollen jumper) that it was I that had made the weather cold, as I had dressed up accordingly to presume the cold weather. I also felt connections with the past, as if I were being lead to some sort of death, it had a last supper feeling to it all, that I was part-consciously aware that I was being lead to my own demise.

Later on in the evening my friend asked me what record he should put on, he gave me the choice between upbeat or downbeat, I chose the upbeat and he chose Madonna. We listened to 'Angel' and 'Like a Virgin' in succession. A joke that only I would be aware of. Laughing alone is not as much fun as laughing with others. And after my many ego death experiences, the one in Berlin in particular, I was aware of this comedian aspect, this joker, the trickster playing a trick on themself, one which always fills me with a sense of sadness. But humour as they say is necessary in life, especially in the harder moments, one of death or grief or loss. Without humour there is only sadness. To not see that there is a flipside to the pain, that there is meaning in it, is to miss the point of the pain in the first place. That death will bring rebirth and a chance to choose something better.

3.
Two weeks ago today on the 16th September I was once again at this friends house, the place where Alan Watts had been an unconscious voice, and we went to see a performance which was being put on by one of his old housemates. It was a performance art piece, one where he alone played many characters, of his family, through to representations of certain cultures and rituals. It felt as though witnessing something divine, the art space felt to me as though it were a church and he was the speaker. He along with my other two friends conversed for a long time after the performance, one where he had to defend or explain his ideas and reasoning to lecturers and judges, and we all felt as if he had succeeded in doing so. His argument was infallible and he dismissed the questions and doubts with ease and in so doing ultimately won the war against an out dated and somewhat crude societal structure. Later that night he heard me sing and it gave him goosebumps. We talked and his ideas were again very similar to mine. He reaffirmed that I had choices to make and that it was important I made the right ones, that soon I would have to choose a side and to fight in a war that was fast approaching, that I should train myself physically (which I plan to do early next year, some sort of martial art-possibly brazilian jiu jitsu), that I need to become fully aware of the consequences of my choices and that I am now held responsible for them, that I cannot and am not allowed to claim ignorance anymore, that I have gone down the rabbit hole and am now living in it. Still my will was not restricted, and I attempted to maintain connections with people I still love, but circumstances and the world once again came in again to remove the chance of that happening.
The day after the performance we all read our birth charts and astrological signs, we all felt somewhat electrified within the house that the 4 of us were creating something and connecting in strange ways. It was very nice to feel a part of a family. That night we danced and partied and sang and drank which can be witnessed in part in the video for the song 'I Remember Luutzen' by Glen Strachan which I will put below, along with an improvised song that 3 of us wrote and performed (which can also be heard below), where I was reading once again from an Alan Watts book, this time his autobiography, and where the random page technique brought me to this:






"A year or so before he died he had a stroke which impaired the peripheral vision of his left eye. When I saw him the day after, he said, "Alan, I am afraid to tell this to most of my friends because they will think that I am crazy. But I was quite sure I was going to die, even that I was dead. It was astonishing! An apotheosis! I found myself where I and everything were transformed into a warm, golden light, where there were formless presences welcoming and assuring me, like angels. How can I say it? All this was much more real than ordinary life, which now seems like a dream, so that I can't be possibly afraid of death any more. Can you understand that I knew for sure that this golden light, this divinity that I became, is the real thing? That this world in which you and I are talking is just a shadow? That we haven't anything to worry about at all-ever? And my God, how can this have happened to me? Alan, you know I am a scoundrel and a lecherous man. Tell me, what do you think? Am I nuts? Was I hallucinated? If they wouldn't think I was quite mad I would recommend everyone to have a stroke." Several months later he went to La Paz in Baja California to spend the winter in the sun. In January 1971 he took off for Mexico City, and before leaving, treated a group of friends to drinks in the bar at the airport. But when he got off at Mexico City, seven thousand feet above La Paz, the change of altitude was too much. He dropped dead of a heart attack. Six hundred people attended his funeral.
We mourned, not for him, but for ourselves that this radiance, this colossal joie de vivre, had left us. The Gate Five community of the Sausalito waterfront has been dreary ever since. The hippies have been replaced by "freaks", who look like peasants from a depressed area of Hungary. Perhaps they are not to be blamed, for the industrial system offers few jobs that any self-respecting person wants to do, and the intelligent young are sick to death of a way of life that wastes and squanders material for the production of baubles and bombs. But consider that Yanko, too, had no job and nothing to mention in the way of money. Nevertheless, he has left waves. He did more than anyone else to release me from pomposity, from submitting to false modesty, and from knuckling under to the general fear of the colourful and all that it signifies.
To go back. A year after Jano and I moved onto the boat, we and a group of friends created the Society for Comparitive Philosophy to sponsor my own work, and to use the spacious studio for seminars and for a library to shelter my thousands of books. Over the years we also raised funds to assist others working along the same lines, and brought in, to conduct seminars, the Lama Anagarika Govinda, Charlotte Selver, Krishnamurti, Douglas Harding, and the Lama Chogyam Trungpa. I have a mild ambition to create something which will carry on, in some respects, where the Bollingen Foundation left off, since most of the great foundations are stuffy and unimaginative and do not support weird scholars investigating Amerindian mysticism or Tibeten iconography. But this may well change, for the new decade is seeing a remarkable revival of interest and magic witchcraft, alchemy, astrology, mysticism and mythology which is invading even the universities and creating the suspicion that the worldview of modern science may itself have been a peculiar form of myth. Science itself, by investigating alpha-waves, anti-matter, holes in space, psychopharmacologym and the dynamics or waves and cycles, may be hoisted by its own petard to the confrontation of a universe very different from what we now imagine, and its pandits may say with the Los Angeles entomologist first hearing of von Fritsch's discovery of bee language, "I have the most passionate reluctance in accepting this evidence." For it does indeed seem that many scientists have a religious fervor and a vested interest that nature is only a rather inefficient machine-to which they must paradoxically ascribe their own boastedly superior intelligences. My own interest, however, remains with the mystical rather than the occult, for having seen what we have done with ordinary technology I am troubled by what black magic we might commit with psychotechnology.
I have said, however, that my ambition for creating a philosophical foundation is mild, for it has become by strong impression that human institutions and collectivities, as distinct from individual people, are impervious to grace. This is no more than a tentative opinion, but I feel that nations, churches, political parties, classes, and formal associations of all kinds operate at the lowest level of intelligence and moral sensibility. This is, in part, because they are not organised as an individual is organised. They act upon rules and verbal communications which, when compared with the organic nervous system, are of extreme crudity. It is this which gives us the feeling that most social problems are too complicated, for, in the same way, the human body would seem too complicated were it not that the nervous system-as distinct from conscious attention and memory-can handle an immense number of variables at the same time. Societies, insofar as they are restricted to linear, strung out, forms of communication, can handle very few variables. Therefore governments and corporations, in attempting to keep up with the infinitely varied and multidimensional process of nature, resort to words on paper-to laws, reports, and other records-which would take lifetimes for any intelligent being to read, much less assimilate. Yet for all these mountains of paper covered in small print, only a tiny amount of natural process has been described, and we do not  really know whether what we select for description are actually the most important features of the process. In other words, our social organisations are not organic.
As they become more complex and computerised they become less organic, because their code of communication-however fast and complex-rests on a basic confusion of symbol with reality, of words and numbers with natural events. When natural process is respresented in words, it appears that there are separable things and events which may be dealt with individually, one by one. There are not. In nature each event implies, or "goeswith," all other events in varying degrees of relevance, and we have only the sketchiest notions of how those degrees may be measured-for how often do the most momentous events arise from the most trivial? A chance meeting precipitates a marriage, and an accident in a laboratory touches off a major scientific discovery. I feel, therefore, that we have long been involved in an unworkable and destructive method of managing both the social order and the natural environment, and that our main hope of finding something better will be through study of the nervous system itself-and by some other way than representing it as a mechanical process. Until we find some such alternative (and I may be saying that we must learn to develop our intuitive rather than our intellectual faculties) I have little hope for constructive, large scale social changes. Society will remain a swamp redeemed only by some relatively few individual plants of fruitful beauty.
Yet it is not difficult for me to be in a state of consciousness where all such problems dissolve. I see that nature makes no real errors; that man and his institutions are as natural as anything else; and, furthermore, that my complaints about any situation are as natural as the idea that I have no reason to complain. Of course this curiously exhilarating feeling implies no specific course of action, and may therefore be dismissed as worthless philosophy, a set of general principles of laws, which does provide adequate rules for action, without first having to be modified into chaos with exceptions. And the sharper one's intellect, the faster one finds reason to take exception to any general principle. Thus we begin the study of Greek in school by learning the conjugation of regular verbs, only to discover that the verbs most common used were irregular. As a language becomes rich with usage and idiom it strays from grammar, or rather from description by grammarians, and must be learned by ear. So, too, life must be played by ear-which is only to say that we must trust, not symbolic rules or linear principles, but our brains or natures. Yet this must bring one back to the faith that nature makes no mistake. In such a universe a decision which results in one's own death is not a mistake: it is simply a way of dying at the right moment.
But nothing can be right in a universe where nothing can be wrong, and every perception is an awareness of contrast, of a right/wrong, is/isn't, bright/dark, hard/soft situation. If this is the very nature of awareness, any and every circumstance, however fortunate, will have to be experienced as a good/bad or plus/minus in order to be experienced at all. By such reflections I think myself into silence and, by writing, help others similarly spellbound by thoughts and words come to silence-which is the realisation that a linear code cannot justly represent a nonlinear world. But this intellectual silence is not failure, defeat, or suicide. It is a return to that naked awareness, that vision unclouded by commentary, which we enjoyed as babies in the days when we saw no difference between knower and known, deed and happening. This time, however, we are babies reborn-babies who remember all the rules and tricks of human games and can therefore communicate with other people as if we were normal adults. We can also feel, as just-born baby cannot, compassion for their confusions.
Now, from the standpoint of the wise-baby the confusions of the normal adult world cannot be straightened out without becoming even more confused. There is no solution but to regain the baby's vision and so to realise that the confusions are not really serious, but only the games whereby adults pass the time and pretend to be important. Seen thus, the world becomes immeasurable rich in colour and detail because we no longer ignore the aspects of life which adults pass over and screen out in their haste after serious matters. As in music, the point of life is its pattern at every stage of its development, and in a world where there is neither self nor other, the only identity is just This-which is all, which is energy, which is God by no name"

And that was the song we created.

I should interject here that whilst writing this piece I have been inundated with new meaning to this whole process I have been going through, and what it could possibly mean. At first I was convinced I was signing my own death warrant and that without doubt I would never make it to San Francisco next April like I am planning. But after writing out the words a new and the most beautiful idea occurred to me, and as it involves life as opposed to death, I am jumping straight into it.

4.
Now I will jump back to 2007/2008 when I played a show at the Abbey Tavern in Kentish Town.

I cannot remember which show it was or what I played but the major event of the evening was when a man came up to me later after I had played and started talking to me about a prophecy he had had.
The man told me in straight-cut words that I was to be a part of the New French Monarchy (his term), a basis of a structure that would help shape the new world. He was somewhat dishevelled with dark brown hair hanging a bit above his shoulders. He was an alcoholic (aren't we all) and had designed a poster for a music/shared arts show back in 1992 displaying shapes and forms laid out in a specific manner. Being a person who loves strange occurrences of course I was enthralled. To be part of something that huge and meaningful was something I had only ever dreamed about. But of course I didn't take it that seriously, who would, and if I had taken it seriously then maybe my ego would've grown so much that I wouldn't have gotten to this point.

Here is the picture:



5.
Back to the day 2 weeks ago at my friends house when we were reading our birthcharts we found that we all linked up in strange ways, our Mayan calendar signs all seemed to fit together, we complimented each other and were each others guides and subconscious helpers. We all had a number that we associated with ourselves. One person was 207, another was 511, the third was 56 and I was 9. I had never had a number that had been given to me mine was a seemingly self-chosen one. My real name is not William Nein but soon after my father died in 2005 I had taken the name on as a stage name. I am without a middle name but my father's middle name was William and my grandfather's first name was William and I liked that it was a strong name, William the Conqueror, William Blake and William Shakespeare all came to mind, something regal and Godly and powerful and strong. I chose the name Nein after finding that it made a nice circular image: Nein meaning No in German, No with a full stop turns it into No. which also can be read as Number and Nine is a number. So I chose William Nein.
Our numbers when combined made up 783.
I wondered if it had any inherent meaning and so typed it into google when this came up:

" ANGEL NUMBER 783
Number 783 is a compilation of the attributes and vibrations of the numbers 7, 8 and 3.  Number 7 brings its influences of spiritual awakening, good fortune, inner-wisdom, mysticism, persistence of purpose and spiritual enlightenment and development.  Number 8 resonates with discernment, manifesting material prosperity and positive abundance, inner-strength and efficiency, giving and receiving and Karma  -  the Spiritual Law of Cause and Effect.  Number 3 lends its energies of optimism and enthusiasm, growth and expansion, communication and self expression.  The number 3 also resonates with the Ascended Masters.

Angel Number 783 is a message of reassurance and encouragement from your angels, Archangels and the Ascended Masters.  Trust that you will always have enough to take proper care of yourself and your loved ones throughout your life as you walk your spiritual path.  Your dedication to your work on all levels has ensured that all will go according to plan.

The repeating number 783 asks you to trust that all is going well in regards to your material and spiritual life.  Follow your intuition and serve your Divine life purpose and soul mission with confidence, faith and trust.  Know that you are well supported by the Universal Energies."

On it's own it's just a random number given a random meaning, but you have to remember that we had been feeling very connected, that our signs all seemed to align and that it was a conscious decision to find out if indeed it did have a meaning. And it fit perfectly with what we had all been feeling, as if there was something strange and otherworldly putting us together at that very moment in time and that there was a meaning behind it.

The next day I once again picked up a book and opened it to a random page. This time the book was the Luminaries which one of my friends had been reading and what we had used to look at the signs of the zodiac.

This was what I read aloud:
"Oh, I have every kind of idea. I will read fortunes, and draw up cosmic birth charts, and play out the patterns of the Tarot. Upstairs...but what is this? You are sceptical, Aubert!"

"I am no longer a sceptic! I have recanted,' said Gascoigne, reaching out to clasp her hand—a movement that was spurred partly because he was trying to smother a smile. (He was a sceptic, through and through, and he could not hear her roll the r of Tarot without wanting to burst with laughter.) Squeezing her hand, he added, ‘I should very much like to be rewarded for recanting.’

‘In this matter I am the expert, and you are the layman,’ said Lydia Wells. ‘You ought to remember that—no matter your poor opinion of realms.’

Her arm was extended between them limply, as a lady extends her rings to be kissed, and Gascoigne repressed the urge to snatch it up, and kiss it.

‘You are right,’ he said, squeezing her hand again. ‘You are quite right.’

He released her, and she moved away to the mantel.

‘I will reward you with a fact,’ she said, ‘but on the condition that you must take me very seriously—quite as seriously as you would take any other man.’

‘Of course,’ Gascoigne murmured, becoming solemn. He sat back.
‘Here it is,’ said Lydia Wells. ‘Next month will be a month without a moon.’

‘Dear me!’ said Gascoigne.

‘It will never wax completely full, is what I mean. February is a short month. There will be a full moon just prior to the first, and another just after the twenty-eighth—and so, no full moon in February.’

Gascoigne smiled at her. ‘And does it fall so—every year?’

‘Not at all,’ said Lydia. ‘The phenomenon is very rare.’ She ran her finger along the plaster moulding.

‘Rare implies a value, does it not? Or a danger—?’

‘It happens only once every score of years,’ Lydia continued, straightening the carriage clock.

‘And what does it prophesy, Miss Lydia—a month without a moon?’

Lydia Wells turned to him, and placed her hands upon her hips. ‘If you give me a shilling,’ she said, ‘I’ll tell you.’

Gascoigne laughed. ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘I don’t yet have proof of your expertise. I shall have to test you before I part with any money, or anything else that belongs to this realm. The cloud will be down tonight—but I will check the Monday papers, and look up the tides.’

The widow gazed at him, impenetrably. ‘I’m not mistaken,’ she said. ‘I’ve an almanac, and I am very skilled at reading it. The moon is waxing now, above the cloud. It will be full by Monday night, and on Tuesday it will begin to wane. Next month will be a month without a moon.’

Now this was at least 10 or so days before I had any idea of the Blood Red Moon which happened on the 28th September 2015. I had taken the prophecy seriously as I had had a couple of weeks of my life seeming very bizarre and prophetic, and I had assumed it was either going to be the month of October 2015 or February 2016. Apparently the Luminaries is based on it happening in 2018, but after what has been happening I believe it will be sooner rather than later and that next year between February and May quite large scale developments may happen. I do not have any real idea of what they may be but it has given me enough of a push to attempt to not be in England in April of next year. I say this for a couple of reasons. Through jokes of me being 33 and now in my 'Jesus year' there is the crucifixion that happens. There is also the rather bizarre coincidence that the friends house that we were in used to be in a band called 'England and the April', in fact he had named it, and that on their first ever release there was a photo of Queen Elizabeth II as a ghost standing on the escalators of the London Underground.

Back in 2007 I wrote a song called 'Victoria's Roof', it was a song inspired by the Blue Stars that I used to see on the old style Victoria Line trains.

These are the lyrics:

Blue stars on Victoria’s roof, secrets on her underground
Hiding from the wandering hands pulling up the weeds
Letters trapped between the pages waiting for fingers to hold
And tuck them in to darkened draws, read beneath bed-sheets of paper
Blackened by the authors hand, words blacken the authors hand
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright

Mouths and tongues expelling words, schooling for the broken-hearted
Firing empty casket shells into the flesh of the buried wounded
Planting masts between her knees, bowing to the queen of vengeance
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright


Add to this coincidence that I had been told I would be part of the 'New French Monarchy' something that suggests the end of the previous monarchy and you have a few coincidences coinciding.

Add to this that in 2007 I wrote a song called 'The Crown of King Louis' a song inspired by the song 'Louis Louis' from The Kingsmen (one of my favourite songs), The Smiths (who wrote 'The Queen is Dead'), and incorporating images of French Monarchy and you have another coincidence.

Here are the lyrics:

You see L/elle (UCL) on a bus with her face plastered across all the people
And you try to ignore and stare at the floor where your heart lies
And you cannot pick it up without looking like a fool, so you leave it
All abandoned in despair, it climbs the stairs and leaves you

And I cry, I cry, I cry ‘cause we’re alone
And I hide, I hide, I hide behind your throne
And at night, at night I creep down and put on your crown my love

Well I guess some people in this world, they are just born with broken hearts
And yes, hope is a wonderful thing, but it leaves them feeling emptier

And I cry, I cry, I cry ‘cause we’re alone
And I hide, I hide, I hide behind your throne
And at night, at night I creep down and put on your crown my love

They say “I’ll help you, I’ll help you, I’ll help you forget all of the things you wanted”
And they say “I’ll help you, I’ll help you, I’ll help you forget all of the things you loved”


It had been the previous day that one of my 3 friends had wondered whether I knew the French word 'elle' means she/it (he had used the word woman) of which I did not. I had used the phrase as a joke on UCL (and possibly of seeing an advert for 'Elle' magazine plastered on the side of a bus, but this I cannot remember) where I had been working the previous year in the library.

The coincidences were rapidly increasing, of which I am aware many may take as purely chance, but that is their own decision. I however am the one living the experience and I can tell you that I am not going to ignore such signs in my own life it is as important as life and death could be.

I released a song last month called 'Don't Call Me On The Phone' as a single and we had agreed that the b-side to that single should be a song I wrote in 2006/2007 called 'Lay Your Arms Down', a song which was inspired by a Buffalo Springfield/Johnny Cash image I had in my head and is about a war finally being over.

Here are the lyrics:

Now the war is over we can lay our guns down slow,
Upon the bloodied bodies lying stiff, decayed and cold.

Under my feet I feel the years,
Under my feet I feel the tears of a thousand souls.

So light another candle for the dead that we lay down, and stand out in the rain.

Wash my hands and body,
wash my hands and body,
wash my hands and body
Again. 

'Cause my soul is heavy but my boots keep walking.

The blue skies will rise over the dead that we lay down,
And their hearts will shatter,
and their parts will scatter into a million other things.

By my hands I killed a man


Once again this alone means little, but add it to the fact that we had sung it the same day we filmed the 'I Remember Luutzen' video and that you can witness at the end of the video that one friend says "You know what?"
Followed instantly by a voice on the record we were listening to saying
"The war is over, we're gonna drop the big one"

It was a moment that we then reacted to immediately because we knew the importance of it.



6.
There is an album I wrote in 2007 and recorded a few songs with this friend involved called 'Jesus is my Man'. Last week I was chatting to someone that I only met a few times back in 2009 and it had always been a favourite album of his. It made me feel like listening to the album again as I hadn't done so for many years and as I got towards the end of the album I could see for me now what is quite a clear linear and strong message running through the whole of the album.

I won't post the lyrics to all of the songs here as it would be making this writing even longer, ans believe me I want to finish writing it as much as you want to finish reading it, but here is the main occurrences.

It begins with a song called 'Alistair', the lyrics of which are undoubtedly the darkest I have ever written, about a man/figure who is so evil he metaphorically eats his own children, and who at the end of the song burst out of him and leave him lying dead.
This song then goes into 'Bees with Bones of Ice', a song whose main refrain is 'Jesus is my Man'. The songs continue of a feel of both love but also of societies falling (I incorporated an image of 9/11 into 'Cardboard is Cheaper in America': "Paper planes flying into paper buildings, paper people don't get hurt, they don't have any feelings"), then into 'Get Out Joe' which is about a boy who is unable to save his sister from committing suicide (saviour complex), which then runs into 'Seagulls' which was my fathers favourite song of mine, it is a song inspired by the book 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull' by Richard Bach. I had been the only person present when he actually died, and I played this song at his funeral. There also seems to be a theme of Blue/Red running through the songs, Blue Stars, Diving into the Blue of the Red behind my eyes. Blue seems to be the colour to choose in this situation. After 'Seagulls' is a wordless song called 'Jabberwocky' which now feels important as a song without language, a new beginning, one that make little sense but is harmonious. Then there is 'Alison Rose'. Now here is where the coincidences began to make me nervous. The friend who appears on the cover of the album and who pointed out the 'elle' word and who helped record some of the songs also pointed out to me a few years ago that 'Alison Rose' was clever because it was Alison rising from the dead. I have to admit I hadn't noticed that even though it now seems obvious, I had simply taken inspiration from the Pixies 'Alison' and put it into a song. One thing that only occurred to me the other evening though was that 'Ali' might mean something. Ali's Son Rose. I wikipedia it and Ali is known as the first young male who accepted Islam, he is known as the Chosen One and Commander of the Faithful (see here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ali). The song is about a girl with two heads who dies but is then resurrected, 'she is the one, she came back to me'. This also links in with 'Alistair' where 'Ali's stare' could be taken as some kind of negative, but to be honest even that one has me clutching at straws so I don't bother looking for a reason.
The album ends with 'Isabel'::

Angels falling from the sun, feathers raining upon my head,
Covering the rocks and stones so they land gently,
Memories turn to clouds.

Shining down upon my face your light is warming me inside
See the night is drawing in, I have your skin to cover me
This is not about God, Isabel

Angel falling from the sky rises up with no memory
Doesn’t even realise the beauty she’s holding.
Clouds in the night time


It gives to me a warm feeling, one that is a new beginning of sorts and lets everything fall gently and soft.

9.
The other evening I was taken somewhere out of this world, I was talking to close friends of mine somewhere outside of the physical realm it seemed, and somewhere where time wasn't quite as linear. When I experiment with drugs I have to be very careful and have trained myself gradually over the past two years (and decades previous through dream techniques) to not just lose my mind and fall into a nightmare. Reality does bend and structures previously held onto as real do suddenly fall away and if you are afraid of it then it can send you into a spiral of panic. I for the most part have managed to be safe in that regard, I would tend to go with the experience and see what it had to show me and face any fears brought up, much like I do in dream states. This morning I woke up with a very strong idea about patterns and symbols, I've always been attracted to monolith structures, alternative histories, myth and crop circles, but I felt like I had been given something I hadn't really read about before. I often use my Twitter account to 'quote' these sayings and ideas that come to me from an outsider's perspective as I am aware that often the things I write can seem laughable at best and insane at worst. This is what was given to me:

"We've heard it told many times before that life is just all a game, but it really is. It started with a symbol split in two
These two symbols then would change until a harmony was found between them and they would give birth to a third
The symbols became elaborate, like a peacock showing feathers, to entice the other symbol, attract it and mate with it, create an offspring
These symbols were ever changing and conscious and only when they had all agreed on a harmony were they to reproduce
Given the limit of eternity these symbols became increasingly complex and with them created gravity through attraction and repulsion
Different worlds were created using these symbols, playfully found in crop circles and monolith sites. There is a humour in it all
The pillars of these worlds were chosen symbols, a flux of ever changing data patterns which was at the forefront of consciousness
When a world was deemed out of date and old the symbols would change and bring forth a new world. One resulting in a new symbol of harmony
To travel between times sensory deprivation chambers were created. Many can tap into this space through meditation, drugs or death
Sleep states also fluctuate in this space
When we die our symbols rearrange, the harmony of those symbols depend on how much you learned before death
Consciousness does not die, only the body, only the previous symbol. Commonly known as the ego"
By experiecing death of self consciousness rearrages the symbols based on your previous surrounding symbols. For most this is parents
But as we become more able to consciously rearrange our own symbols and generate the ego death without physical death we can be reborn
The world really is created by a few monkeys hitting random keys for eternity until works of Shakespeare are produced"


The other evening in my induced state I had friends around me, chosen symbols and we were trying to find the best possible harmonic state with a 4th symbol. This 4th symbol hadn't been chosen, that was my job, luckily I was allowed to 'test out' certain symbols and was visually shown where the harmony would ultimately lead. It felt like a huge responsibility and there were times in this state when I would have to just wait and see what inspiration would hit. I could feel my mind working incredibly hard to find a solution to the problem, to find that chink in the armour or wall, to allow a world to be created to its best possible, or at least my best, however limited, effort. But one was eventually found, a possible answer to an incredibly difficult equation, one that isn't based on numbers but of symbols and shapes.

10.
Back to some coincidences.
Earlier that same evening I was listening to music and played a few songs by the Pixies. The Pixies have always been one of my favourite bands and I loved all their albums from when they started off with Biblical references and then when it all lead into an Alien/Martian obsessed route.
They have a song called 'The Happening' which tells a tale of Aliens landing a taking chosen people off to some other world. I have heard the song many times before and knew all about the imagery but I hadn't noticed a slight connection with my name until now.

I was driving doing nothing on the shores of Great Salt Lake
when they put it on the air i put it in the hammer laneI soon forgot myeslf and i forgot about the brake
i forgot all laws and i forgot about the rain
they were talking on the 9 and all across the amy band
across the road they were turning around and headed south with me
it got so crowded on the road i started driving in the sand
my head was feeling scared but my heart was feeling free
the desert turned to mud it seems that everybody heard
everybody was remembering to forget they had the chills
then i heard the voices on a broadcast from up on the bird
they were getting interviewed by some Goodman whose name was Bill

I'm almost there to Vegas where they're puttin' on a show
they've come so far i've lived this long at least i must just go and say
hello


It's just a song with some words, but with everything that has been going on I couldn't overlook that it has both Bill (William) and 9 in it.
Add to this the fact that last Friday 25th September I was at a friends house preparing for the Nirvana show that we were playing the next day. I have been speaking about my thoughts and the strangeness of the numerous coincidences and how I felt like an apocalyptic time could be heading our way, and that I was planning on being out the country next April and maybe he would fly over to America too just in case. He's always wanted to go to Seattle, so why not go at the same time I would be in California? He mentions the song 'After the Goldrush' by Neil Young, which I was ashamed to say I somehow had never heard, but he tells me there is a similarity between what I was saying and that song, and also to my song 'Join us in San Francisco'.

"After The Goldrush"

Well, I dreamed I saw the knights
In armor coming,
Saying something about a queen.
There were peasants singing and
Drummers drumming
And the archer split the tree.
There was a fanfare blowing
To the sun
That was floating on the breeze.
Look at Mother Nature on the run
In the nineteen seventies.
Look at Mother Nature on the run
In the nineteen seventies.

I was lying in a burned out basement
With the full moon in my eyes.
I was hoping for replacement
When the sun burst thru the sky.
There was a band playing in my head
And I felt like getting high.
I was thinking about what a
Friend had said
I was hoping it was a lie.
Thinking about what a
Friend had said
I was hoping it was a lie.

Well, I dreamed I saw the silver
Space ships flying
In the yellow haze of the sun,
There were children crying
And colors flying
All around the chosen ones.
All in a dream, all in a dream
The loading had begun.
They were flying Mother Nature's
Silver seed to a new home in the sun.
Flying Mother Nature's
Silver seed to a new home.


Of course it struck a chord, it was saying things that connected up once again. Western America, End of Days, Aliens, Queen, Knights, (on the William Nein tshirt a friend designed for me is a shield), the Moon, all in a dream, chosen ones. Every day has been like this, a constant hammering of 'no doubt no doubt no doubt', that if I were to ignore all the signs and just assume I'm crazy I would regret it if in the end my intuition had been right.


11.
I was chatting briefly to a friend in California the other evening who used to live here in the UK but now lives near but not quite San Francisco with her husband. At one point for no real reason I typed the time it was where she was in California into Google and was given this:


David and Goliath

1Now the Philistines gathered their forces for war and assembled at Sokoh in Judah. They pitched camp at Ephes Dammim, between Sokoh and Azekah. 2Saul and the Israelites assembled and camped in the Valley of Elah and drew up their battle line to meet the Philistines. 3The Philistines occupied one hill and the Israelites another, with the valley between them.

4A champion named Goliath, who was from Gath, came out of the Philistine camp. His height was six cubits and a span.a 5He had a bronze helmet on his head and wore a coat of scale armor of bronze weighing five thousand shekelsb ; 6on his legs he wore bronze greaves, and a bronze javelin was slung on his back. 7His spear shaft was like a weaver’s rod, and its iron point weighed six hundred shekels.c His shield bearer went ahead of him.

8Goliath stood and shouted to the ranks of Israel, “Why do you come out and line up for battle? Am I not a Philistine, and are you not the servants of Saul? Choose a man and have him come down to me. 9If he is able to fight and kill me, we will become your subjects; but if I overcome him and kill him, you will become our subjects and serve us.” 10Then the Philistine said, “This day I defy the armies of Israel! Give me a man and let us fight each other.” 11On hearing the Philistine’s words, Saul and all the Israelites were dismayed and terrified.

12Now David was the son of an Ephrathite named Jesse, who was from Bethlehem in Judah. Jesse had eight sons, and in Saul’s time he was very old. 13Jesse’s three oldest sons had followed Saul to the war: The firstborn was Eliab; the second, Abinadab; and the third, Shammah. 14David was the youngest. The three oldest followed Saul, 15but David went back and forth from Saul to tend his father’s sheep at Bethlehem.

16For forty days the Philistine came forward every morning and evening and took his stand.

17Now Jesse said to his son David, “Take this ephahd of roasted grain and these ten loaves of bread for your brothers and hurry to their camp. 18Take along these ten cheeses to the commander of their unit. See how your brothers are and bring back some assurancee from them. 19They are with Saul and all the men of Israel in the Valley of Elah, fighting against the Philistines.”

20Early in the morning David left the flock in the care of a shepherd, loaded up and set out, as Jesse had directed. He reached the camp as the army was going out to its battle positions, shouting the war cry. 21Israel and the Philistines were drawing up their lines facing each other. 22David left his things with the keeper of supplies, ran to the battle lines and asked his brothers how they were. 23As he was talking with them, Goliath, the Philistine champion from Gath, stepped out from his lines and shouted his usual defiance, and David heard it. 24Whenever the Israelites saw the man, they all fled from him in great fear.

25Now the Israelites had been saying, “Do you see how this man keeps coming out? He comes out to defy Israel. The king will give great wealth to the man who kills him. He will also give him his daughter in marriage and will exempt his family from taxes in Israel.”

26David asked the men standing near him, “What will be done for the man who kills this Philistine and removes this disgrace from Israel? Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should defy the armies of the living God?”

27They repeated to him what they had been saying and told him, “This is what will be done for the man who kills him.”

28When Eliab, David’s oldest brother, heard him speaking with the men, he burned with anger at him and asked, “Why have you come down here? And with whom did you leave those few sheep in the wilderness? I know how conceited you are and how wicked your heart is; you came down only to watch the battle.”

29“Now what have I done?” said David. “Can’t I even speak?” 30He then turned away to someone else and brought up the same matter, and the men answered him as before. 31What David said was overheard and reported to Saul, and Saul sent for him.

32David said to Saul, “Let no one lose heart on account of this Philistine; your servant will go and fight him.”

33Saul replied, “You are not able to go out against this Philistine and fight him; you are only a young man, and he has been a warrior from his youth.”

34But David said to Saul, “Your servant has been keeping his father’s sheep. When a lion or a bear came and carried off a sheep from the flock, 35I went after it, struck it and rescued the sheep from its mouth. When it turned on me, I seized it by its hair, struck it and killed it. 36Your servant has killed both the lion and the bear; this uncircumcised Philistine will be like one of them, because he has defied the armies of the living God. 37The Lord who rescued me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will rescue me from the hand of this Philistine.”

Saul said to David, “Go, and the Lord be with you.”

38Then Saul dressed David in his own tunic. He put a coat of armor on him and a bronze helmet on his head. 39David fastened on his sword over the tunic and tried walking around, because he was not used to them.

“I cannot go in these,” he said to Saul, “because I am not used to them.” So he took them off. 40Then he took his staff in his hand, chose five smooth stones from the stream, put them in the pouch of his shepherd’s bag and, with his sling in his hand, approached the Philistine.

41Meanwhile, the Philistine, with his shield bearer in front of him, kept coming closer to David. 42He looked David over and saw that he was little more than a boy, glowing with health and handsome, and he despised him. 43He said to David, “Am I a dog, that you come at me with sticks?” And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. 44“Come here,” he said, “and I’ll give your flesh to the birds and the wild animals!”

45David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. 46This day the Lord will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. 47All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”

48As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him. 49Reaching into his bag and taking out a stone, he slung it and struck the Philistine on the forehead. The stone sank into his forehead, and he fell facedown on the ground.

50So David triumphed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone; without a sword in his hand he struck down the Philistine and killed him.

51David ran and stood over him. He took hold of the Philistine’s sword and drew it from the sheath. After he killed him, he cut off his head with the sword.

When the Philistines saw that their hero was dead, they turned and ran. 52Then the men of Israel and Judah surged forward with a shout and pursued the Philistines to the entrance of Gathf and to the gates of Ekron. Their dead were strewn along the Shaaraim road to Gath and Ekron. 53When the Israelites returned from chasing the Philistines, they plundered their camp.

54David took the Philistine’s head and brought it to Jerusalem; he put the Philistine’s weapons in his own tent.

55As Saul watched David going out to meet the Philistine, he said to Abner, commander of the army, “Abner, whose son is that young man?”

Abner replied, “As surely as you live, Your Majesty, I don’t know.”

56The king said, “Find out whose son this young man is.”

57As soon as David returned from killing the Philistine, Abner took him and brought him before Saul, with David still holding the Philistine’s head.

58“Whose son are you, young man?” Saul asked him.

David said, “I am the son of your servant Jesse of Bethlehem.”


The next day I did some research on King David https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David  and found it fitting that he was a poet and musician as well as a warrior.
When I reached the part about the Nine Worthies however I shuddered
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nine_Worthies

"The Nine Worthies are nine historical, scriptural and legendary personages who personify the ideals of chivalry as were established in the Middle Ages. All are commonly referred to as 'Princes' in their own right, despite whatever true titles each man may have held. In French they are called Les Neuf Preux, meaning "Nine Valiants",[1] which term gives a slightly more focused idea of the sort of moral virtue they were deemed to represent so perfectly, that of soldierly courage and generalship. The study of the life of each would thus form a good education for the aspirant to chivalric status. In Italy they are i Nove Prodi.

The Nine Worthies include three good pagans: Hector, Alexander the Great, and Julius Caesar, three good Jews: Joshua, David, and Judas Maccabeus, and three good Christians: King Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of Bouillon."

Towards the end of that article I read about the 'Nine Worthies of London, one of whom was Sir William Sevenoake. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Sevenoke
"Upon his death and resulting from a will dated 4 July 1432 he donated funds for the foundation of almshouses and a school in the town of Sevenoaks. These are still in existence and are now known as Sevenoaks School and Sevenoaks Almshouses."
I was born in Sevenoaks. Though failing my 11+ and not being from a wealthy family I ended up at The Wildernesse School, not Sevenoaks School.
He was an orphan who led a rags to riches life and ended up as Mayor of London in 1418. My father was born on the 14th of November and my mother was born on the 18th November.

At some point I decided to look up something random even for me.
When I was 15/16 I wrote a song called 'Visits from TEFOTROD' I abbreviated 'The Executive Furies of the Robot Lord Of Death' as it was quite long. It was a phrase I had taken from 'The Psychedelic Experience' by Timothy Leary, a book based upon the Tibetan Book of the Dead.
I looked up 'The Executive Furies of the Robot Lord Of Death' and apparently someone had released a song of that name the same year (1997) as I had written mine.
Here are the lyrics to this other person's song:

I'm seraph. I'm snake.
controlled. pre-programmed entrapped soul.
extraneous powers conditions my mind.
I'm vermin. I'm fake.
causality ignores the persecutory illutions of free will.
morality justifies no cause.
beyond reason: we eat. reproduce and die.
a genetically conditioned psychomotor machine.
I'm seraph. I'm snake. an evolutionary mistake. 


At this point I had had enough and couldn't take any more coincidences.
The Matrix like lyrics, the evolutionary mistake (though Alan Watts may disagree that it was a mistake), the illusions of free will.

Here's a recent performance of my song 'Visits from TEFOTROD'. I hadn't played this song for about 10 years, before I recorded it I had to run through it to even recall the lyrics.



A wooden box with flowers on is floating down a stream
A requiescat is being said but I cannot be seen
I only went to her flat 'cause she was my phenelzine
And the people were narcomaniacs
They didn't know me
 

Count up all my good deeds place white pebbles on the sand
The black stones represent the bad deeds that I've done to man
The robot lord of death judges me with his hand
But he don't own me, were narcomaniacs
We're so lonely, we're narcomaniacs

I shall take my imago to Shangri La with you
There we'll lay in almandines and swim in skies of blue

I wish i could speak to soothe you but i am scared too
And my invocations have not been answered i don't know what to do
My prayers to God have not been answered, fatalism lies with you

I would tear you open but I'm scared to look inside

I believe you're empty and that's the reason you have died
I wish i could talk to move you but my tongue is tied
And my thoughts are with the people you deserted and left behind
My thoughts are with the people you loved but left behind


Looking up the word Requiescat to refamiliarise myself with it I came across this.

REQUIESCAT

        by: Oscar Wilde

        TREAD lightly, she is near
        Under the snow,
        Speak gently, she can hear
        The daisies grow.
        
        All her bright golden hair
        Tarnished with rust,
        She that was young and fair
        Fallen to dust.
        
        Lily-like, white as snow,
        She hardly knew
        She was a woman, so
        Sweetly she grew.
        
        Coffin-board, heavy stone,
        Lie on her breast,
        I vex my heart alone,
        She is at rest.
        
        Peace, peace, she cannot hear
        Lyre or sonnet,
        All my life's buried here,
        Heap earth upon it.


--


The next day I went to work (29/9/15) and it was the longest and most hardworking day I've ever had. I was in high spirits and knew beforehand to expect the insane but it was tiring. I did however get compliments from customers on my jovial happy manner and customer service.

This brings us back to today - 30th September 2015. I have no idea where we are all headed, I grieved my own death earlier and cried for a long time as it's hard to not be convinced that I am headed towards my own end, sometime in the first half of next year. But there is also a possibility of a child being born, someone that could save us all and lead us into the next phase of evolution.

Until then I will leave you with the lyrics to my song 'Join us in San Francisco' and please do join me if you feel so inclined.

I found an ocean under my bed as I was tidying up my room.
I stared in shock till a fish came up and said
“Do you know the way to San Francisco?”
After a while I said “No”
And he said “Ok….I am going to go that way.”

So there we were, just me and this fish swimming our way to America,
Talking ‘bout books, music and films
Can you believe he hadn’t seen ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’?
We were surrounded by sharks impressing their friends,
And I’m not ashamed to say I was scared till one came up and said:
“I know the way to San Francisco”

So there we were, just me, and this fish, and this shark all heading to America.
When we got hungry we stopped at a café to eat, we’re all vegetarian.
I called my mum to tell her I was fine, and that she could join us anytime she liked.
We’re on our way to San Francisco.

So we arrived, under the Golden Gate Bridge, on the shores of America,
We rode the trams, became hippies, tomorrow we’re going to Alcatraz.
Come and join us in San Francisco
Come and join us in San Francisco
Come and join us in San Francisco
It would really be such fun.


--

Thursday. 1st October 2015

1.
|
The line in Alan Watts' Autobiography which states: "In such a universe a decision which results in one's own death is not a mistake: it is simply a way of dying at the right moment." Made me realise that I must indeed die at the right moment, and in this case I feel (though I hope I am wrong about all this) is that I may indeed die in the early part of next year.
If indeed certain writings are correct, that there will in fact be a war waged of good/evil, then it stands in logic that those knights and warriors who must fight will have to be in the prime of their existence. This means mentally, spiritually, and physically. I am 33 and very unfit, I have not taken very good care of my body and if any war was to be fought I would surely die quickly and pathetically by a much stronger opponent. If however I were to die "at the right moment", then I would be reborn, keeping my wisdom and spirit clear of blemish, that I would come back fresh and new and with an instant need to study and train in the art of battle and war, to be made strong enough and fearless enough to be a worthy knight.
This scares me to the point of weeping uncontrollably. I do not wish to die and am scared in what may I would be made to die. And yet I know that if that is what is meant to happen then I cannot stand in its way, especially if I have somehow predicted it without any reason to.
This doesn't just feel like my imagination gone wild, I can even see the person who I would become; most likely female, most likely born in France, most likely next year.

I woke this morning feeling ill and exhausted, in my stirring to wake I was given the image of Jimi Hendrix's song 'If 6 was 9' (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/If_6_Was_9), the image of 6 being one of evil/devil, the image of 9 being the opposite. 6 with 9 are both are considered spirals, if you look at the New French Monarchy picture above you will see the image of the spiral. If you overlap one with the other you are given the image of 8, the figure of infinity, the symbol of the fish.

Here are the lyrics:
If the sun refuse to shine
I don't mind, I don't mind
If the mountains fell in the sea
let it be, it ain't me
Alright, 'cos I got my own world to look through
And I ain't gonna copy you

Now if 6 turned out to be 9
I don't mind, I don't mind
Alright, if all the hippies cut off all their hair
I don't care, I don't care
Dig, 'cos I got my own world to live through
And I ain't gonna copy you

White collared conservative flashing down the street

Pointing their plastic finger at me
They're hoping soon my kind will drop and die
But I'm gonna wave my freak flag high, high
Wave on, wave on
Fall mountains, just don't fall on me
Go ahead on Mr. Business man, you can't dress like me
Sing on Brother, play on drummer


Some info on the song:
The theme has been described as an "individualist anthem".[4] The lyrics portray the underlying conflict of the counterculture of the 1960s: the "social and cultural dichotomies" between the hippies and the "white collared conservative" business world of the establishment. Beginning with a blues riff, the lyrics accompany a "spacey" free-form jam, with Hendrix epitomizing the existentialist voice of the youth movement: "I'm the one that's gonna have to die when it's time for me to die/so let me live my life/the way I want to."[5]

Authors Harry Shapiro and Caesar Glebbeek believe the lyrics, "if the mountains fell into the sea" are a reference to the creation myth of the second world of Hopi mythology.[6] Frank Waters' Book of the Hopi (1963) was known to have influenced Hendrix, and many of his songs contain mythological themes and images related to Native Americans in the United States;[7] Hendrix himself was part Cherokee.[8]


Of course Jimi Hendrix was part of the '27 Club', people that died when they were 27, you add 2 and 7 together and you get 9. You add 3 and 3 together (33) you get 6.

2.
That lead me to look up the meaning of 9 in cultures (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/9_%28number%29) you must understand that I am looking these things up as I go along, I haven't studied most of these things, so any knowledge would be subconscious at best, I tend to remember things I have learnt (or at least remember once I've been reminded), but these are things I have never read before.

Nine is a number that appears often in Indian Culture and mythology. Some instances are enumerated below.

    Nine influencers are attested in Indian astrology
    In the Vaisheshika branch of Hindu philosophy, there are nine universal substances or elements: Earth, Water, Fire, Air, Ether, Time, Space, Soul, and Mind.
    Navaratri is a nine-day festival dedicated to the nine forms of Durga.
    Navaratna, meaning "9 jewels" may also refer to Navaratnas - accomplished courtiers, Navratan - a kind of dish, or a form of architecture.
    According to Yoga, the human body has nine doors - two eyes, two ears, the mouth, two nostrils, and the openings for defecation and procreation.
    In Indian aesthetics, there are nine kinds of Rasa.
    From very beginning before discovery of planets Indian astrologers predicted human feature by following nine planets.


In the Vaisheshika branch of nine universal elements '6' would be time, which is where most people tend to live, but through self induced states many people can pass the idea of time as being linear or a physical reality.

Chinese culture

    Nine (九 pinyin jiǔ) is considered a good number in Chinese culture because it sounds the same as the word "long-lasting" (久 pinyin jiǔ)[citation needed].

    Nine is strongly associated with the Chinese dragon, a symbol of magic and power. There are nine forms of the dragon, it is described in terms of nine attributes, and it has nine children. It has 117 scales - 81 yang (masculine, heavenly) and 36 yin (feminine, earthly). All three numbers are multiples of 9 (9×13=117, 9×9=81, 9×4=36)[1] as well as having the same digital root of 9.

    The dragon often symbolizes the Emperor, and the number nine can be found in many ornaments in the Forbidden City.

    The circular altar platform (Earthly Mount) of the Temple of Heaven has one circular marble plate in the center, surrounded by a ring of nine plates, then by a ring of 18 plates, and so on, for a total of nine rings, with the outermost having 81=9×9 plates.

    The name of the area called Kowloon in Hong Kong literally means: nine dragons.

    The nine-dotted line (Chinese: 南海九段线; pinyin: nánhǎi jiǔduàn xiàn; literally: "Nine-segment line of the South China Sea") delimits certain island claims by China in the South China Sea.

    The nine-rank system was a civil service nomination system used during certain Chinese dynasties.

Ancient Egypt

    The nine bows is a term used in Ancient Egypt to represent the traditional enemies of Egypt
    The Ennead is a group of 9 Egyptian deities, who, in the some versions of the Osiris myth, judged whether Horus or Set should inherit Egypt

European culture

    The Nine Worthies are nine historical, or semi-legendary figures who, in the Middle Ages, were believed to personify the ideals of chivalry.
    In Norse mythology, the Nine Worlds of Yggdrasil are: Asgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim, Midgard, Jotunheim, Nidavellir, Helheim, Niflheim, and Muspelheim.

Greek mythology

    The nine Muses in Greek mythology are Calliope (epic poetry), Clio (history), Erato (erotic poetry), Euterpe (lyric poetry), Melpomene (tragedy), Polyhymnia (song), Terpsichore (dance), Thalia (comedy), and Urania (astronomy).
    It takes nine days (for an anvil) to fall from heaven to earth, and nine more to fall from earth to Tartarus—a place of torment in the underworld.
    Leto labored for nine nights and nine days for Apollo, according to the Homeric Hymn to Delian Apollo.
 

Have a look at the image of '9'
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/05/Evo9glyph.svg

Probability

In probability, the nine is a logarithmic measure of probability of an event, defined as the negative of the base-10 logarithm of the probability of the event's complement. For example, an event that is 99% likely to occur has an unlikelihood of 1% or 0.01, which amounts to −log10 0.01 = 2 nines of probability. Zero probability gives zero nines (−log10 1 = 0). A 100% probability is considered to be impossible in most circumstances: that results in infinite improbability. The effectivity of processes and the availability of systems can be expressed (as a rule of thumb, not explicitly) as a series of "nines". For example, "five nines" (99.999%) availability implies a total downtime of no more than five minutes per year - typically a very high degree of reliability; but never 100%.


Of course 9 out of 10 is almost, but not quite, completion. It is not a certainty as there is still the 1 remaining, and I see this '1' as the option of choice.
If I were to die next year it would be because I have willingly chosen it, even though the thought of doing so terrifies me. I hate pain, people know this, and I am ultimately physically defensive, in the sense that I will most likely try to avoid any possibility of myself getting hurt or injured.
So don't think that I am saying these things out of trying to sound nonchalant about it because I am far from it. But given all of this if I were to choose to save my own skin and turn away from all the clues I've been finding I could not possibly be in the presence of a higher being without a great sense of shame and regret. Ultimately there is no choice, I must give-in to it.

3.
Last night I also felt as if I had managed to 'decode' the New French Monarchy picture. I have been looking at it, albeit only occasionally, over the past few days and wondered which each symbol could mean. Let us have another look:



So as I have mentioned above I believe the spiral on the right is 'time'. The person below is quite obvious through its form. The two 'branches' I believe are choice of path, the gap between is the chink in the wall.
If you choose the path on the right you will live 'in time', you will live and die as most do, if however you choose the left option it seems as if you travel through all of time. The line follows all the way around back to the top (end time), the line begins, it is crossed by a circle (I thought this could be some sort of world), there is a line that crosses, more 'time' then a 2nd line that crosses, then more time until it reaches back to the top.
How I interpreted that was that the two lines crossing were birth and death (what the right side of the picture shows), but do you see how much 'time' is before and after those two lines? That means possibly being a part of some time journeying troupe, one that is not limited to one time and one body, but that travels the whole path. This is what the Buddha came to understand when he experienced the lives of all beings past and present.
You will notice also that the spiral that is above the chink in the wall is somewhat stretched, it does not simply spiral like the one shown on the right, but travels forward as well as spiralling.
The image at the top of the paper shows what I believe is the 'source'. What we could call God or the Universe or whatever name you wish to associate with it. Notice how there is a line that divides it, a line which stops the path on the right from seeing what is above it, they are only shown part of the source, not the entirety of it.
The symbol below the stretched spiral I am unsure of. It is a 3-pointed triangle, it could be taken as the trinity but it could also be a prism or spaceship so I will not claim to say I know.

4.
I needed some sort of comfort from the feeling I was headed towards my death at a rapid rate and so opened up Philip K. Dick's Exegesis, which I haven't read for about 2 years, have never finished and am unlikely to ever finish (records-which would take lifetimes for any intelligent being to read, much less assimilate. - A.Watts), but which is extremely interesting taken from my new perspective. Suddenly all that seemed bizarre to me before makes more sense, as if I have seen what it is he is talking about. ("I am above, Valis. I am above Valis" was the phrase I spoke to the moon 2 years ago when I was hit with the sensations of previous beings' deaths.)

The random page I opened the book to was Folder 32 , November 19th 1977.

In Feb of 1974 I momentarily withdrew assent to the reality of this world; a month later this world underwent visible changes, and its true nature became perceptible to me: it is, as the Gnostics said, a prison. It is there, but it is not as it appears to be. The immediate reaction to the anomie in the world is to say that it is simply out of control. If it is there to re-awaken us to our divine origins, however, its malign aspects serve a good purpose. What each of us must do is repudiate the world, which is to say, deny it while at the same time a sanctified alternate reality, which I did vis-a-vis the golden fish sign; the false quasi-cosmos was denied and the true sacred reality was affirmed. It was a single act, a movement away from the first to the second. I think I've figured out the basic move necessary: an ethical balking.* That is how the world-denying begins. That is the first step in unraveling the counterfeit quality of the world. The Gnostics stressed such a 'metaphysical strike' and pointed out that the (archons who rule this prison world, the wardens can only harm the body and mind but not the divine spark. It is a refusal to cooperate with a harmful world, which, once one has balked against it, reveals its ersatz quality...
It probably is of extraordinary significance that repudiation of that mundane reality and acknowledgement of the transmundane is a single event or act, rather than two. The two realities cannot both exist, evidently

* (editor) With this important concept, Dick presents the visible world as a moral test. The challenge is to perceive the injustice of the system of the world and to refuse to cooperate with it. The problem is that the logic of the visible universe is internally consistent and contains no clear indication that it deserves to be rejected.

5.
The 5 Suns Creation myth - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five_Suns

Legend

From the void that was the rest of the universe, the first god, Ometeotl, created itself. Ometeotl was both male and female, good and evil, light and darkness, fire and water, judgment and forgiveness, the god of duality. Ometeotl gave birth to four children, the four Tezcatlipocas, who each preside over one of the four cardinal directions. Over the West presides the White Tezcatlipoca, Quetzalcoatl, the god of light, mercy and wind. Over the South presides the Blue Tezcatlipoca, Huitzilopochtli, the god of war. Over the East presides the Red Tezcatlipoca, Xipe Totec, the god of gold, farming and Spring time. And over the North presides the Black Tezcatlipoca, also called simply Tezcatlipoca, the god of judgment, night, deceit, sorcery and the Earth.[2]

It was these four gods who eventually created all the other gods and the world we know today, but before they could create they had to destroy, for every time they attempted to create something, it would fall into the water beneath them and be eaten by Cipactli, the giant earth crocodile, who swam through the water with mouths at every one of her joints. The four Tezcatlipocas descended the first people who were giants. They created the other gods, the most important of whom were the water gods: Tlaloc, the god of rain and fertility and Chalchiuhtlicue, the goddess of lakes, rivers and oceans, also the goddess of beauty. To give light, they needed a god to become the sun and the Black Tezcatlipoca was chosen, but either because he had lost a leg or because he was god of the night, he only managed to become half a sun. The world continued on in this way for some time, but a sibling rivalry grew between Quetzalcoatl and his brother the mighty sun, who Quetzalcoatl knocked from the sky with a stone club. With no sun, the world was totally black and in his anger, Tezcatlipoca commanded his jaguars to eat all the people.[3]

The gods created a new group of people to inhabit the Earth, this time they were of normal size. Quetzalcoatl became the new sun and as the years passed, the people of the Earth grew less and less civilized and stopped showing proper honor to the gods. As a result, Tezcatlipoca demonstrated his power and authority as god of sorcery and judgment by turning the animalistic people into monkeys. Quetzalcoatl, who had loved the flawed people as they were, became upset and blew all of the monkeys from the face of the Earth with a mighty hurricane. He then stepped down as the sun to create a new people.

Tlaloc became the next sun, but Tezcatlipoca seduced and stole his wife Xochiquetzal, the goddess of sex, flowers and corn. Tlaloc then refused to do anything other than wallow in his own grief, so a great drought swept the world. The people's prayers for rain annoyed the grieving sun and he refused to allow it to rain, but the people continued to beg him. Then, in a fit of rage he answered their prayers with a great downpour of fire. It continued to rain fire until the entire Earth had burned away. The gods then had to construct a whole new Earth from the ashes.

The next sun and also Tlaloc’s new wife, was Chalchiuhtlicue. She was very loving towards the people, but Tezcatlipoca was not. Both the people and Chalchiuhtlicue felt his judgment when he told the water goddess that she was not truly loving and only faked kindness out of selfishness to gain the people’s praise. Chalchiuhtlicue was so crushed by these words that she cried blood for the next fifty-two years, causing a horrific flood that drowned everyone on Earth.

Quetzalcoatl would not accept the destruction of his people and went to the underworld where he stole their bones from the god Mictlantecuhtli. He dipped these bones in his own blood to resurrect his people, who reopened their eyes to a sky illuminated by the current sun, Huitzilopochtli.[2]

Some of Ometeotl’s later children, the Tzitzimitl, or stars, became jealous of their brighter, more important brother Huitzilopochtli. Their leader, Coyolxauhqui, goddess of the moon, lead them in an assault on the sun and every night they come close to victory when they shine throughout the sky, but are beaten back by the mighty Huitzilopochtli who rules the daytime sky. To aid this all-important god in his continuing war, the Aztecs offer him the nourishment of human sacrifices. They also offer human sacrifices to Tezcatlipoca in fear of his judgment, offer their own blood to Quetzalcoatl, who opposes fatal sacrifices, in thanks of his blood sacrifice for them and give offerings to many other gods for many purposes. Should these sacrifices cease, or should mankind fail to please the gods for any other reason, this fifth sun will go black, the world will be shattered by a catastrophic earthquake, and the Tzitzimitl will slay Huitzilopochtli and all of humanity. 


Lords of the day

In the post-classic Aztec calendar, there were 13 Lords of the Day. These were gods (and goddesses) who each represented one of the 13 days in the trecenas of the 260-day calendar. The same god always represented the same day. Quetzalcohuatl (The feathered serpent), for example, always accompanied the 9th day.[citation needed]
Lords of the night
Main article: Lords of the Night

There are only nine Lords of the Night, which means that they cannot always represent the same day, but the list of gods repeats itself again and again so each lord accompanies a new number each trecena. Some think that there are nine Lords of the night because they are connected to the nine levels of the underworld.[14] 


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quetzalcoatl 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Children_Who_Chase_Lost_Voices

6.
As I continue to read these various findings and reopen Philip K. Dick's Exegesis there is a small hope that maybe I will not have to die. I read the Exegesis and it tells me (Folder 50, January 1978) "What I notice is how many people wish me well...about me having served, done my duty, and now can pass on into the reward waiting for me - he said, even, that they'd applaud me. I still don't know what I did in the 3-74 re the Xerox missive, but what I did was what I was sent here to do from the start, and I did it right; as KW put it, "They tell you how, when and where to through the spear, but you must throw it."
This relates the the 9/10 choice option, that it is you that must choose, it won't be made for you. That it is up to you to try to seek truth, and not always require proof and evidence from a matter-based, intellectually created holographic image or facade.
In the Luminaries when

Gascoigne laughed. ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘I don’t yet have proof of your expertise. I shall have to test you before I part with any money, or anything else that belongs to this realm.

Or when people refused to believe Noah or other characters that you kind find all throughout myth and legends and stories. That maybe time really is just an illusion and that all we do as humans is repeat the same cycle over and over again, based upon uploaded, fake memories, of a world that isn't really here at all. We don't remember this because we all seemingly get born, but when you begin to tap into the computerised system that is above us you will feel the connections between you and others as being as one in the same. And we keep telling ourselves the same stories over and over until a few people listen one at a time. That the idea I had a while ago that 'everything I ever have read or anything that anyone ever says to me' is actually true, that it is 'I' the 'I' above 'me' that tells me things, and that 'you' are also 'I' and therefore a machine communicating to itself.

And so, hopefully, my fear of my own death next year is more a paranoid delusion brought upon me by seeing the world as less real than it appears to me, that maybe I have done my duty and let the arrow fly. That maybe these words I am writing now is that arrow. Philip K. Dick was known to be paranoid and maybe that the paranoia is the flipside to revealing the true nature of our reality. That just like in the film Inception that as soon as the dreamer becomes aware of the dream, that they are persecuted and chased and possibly killed for doing so. If however I can remain calm and witness the dream in a sort of lucid state maybe I can dream a happy dream and live a long full life with lots of love and joy around me.
That would be the hope, but even though I have trained myself through various states I have yet to do so in the physical realm, which is far more strange than any of the others I have been in.

7.
After resting this afternoon I woke up and picked up a Bible I have on my shelf. Yes, I do have a bible though have never counted myself as religious. As Alan Watts states all "human institutions and collectivities, as distinct from individual people, are impervious to grace." This means to me all religions as well as corporations and collective societies.
But yes, the bible has a strong part to play in all this, it's not just Alan Watts and Philip K. Dick and various musicians.
So I pick it up, the random page is the beginning of Ephesians, here I should mention that not really at any point previously have I understood what most of the bible is going on about, I always read it but could never understand it. This time however it was made quite clear to me at least from my own specific perspective, which of course is subjective and no more 'true' than anyone else's really.
But from my view the way in which Paul is speaking is from a place outside of time, that it wasn't something that was purely written way back when, but that ultimately we are still living inside the same time frame. Like a tape loop but with different images being projected as an outside physical reality. So when he speaks of certain things and spirits and churches, he is talking about something that is living right now in the present, although we may have different names for them. For instance the Jews and the Gentiles are connected through space and time by their actions and deeds. The Christ he mentions is a timeless being that travels between our bodies using them as vessels, but that it can only do that when you reject the physical world we live in as the only reality. It's actually quite Sci-Fi. And maybe it's just me, but I even hear the knowing smirk when he says:

""When he ascended to the heights,
he led a crowd of captives
and gave gifts to his people"
Notice that it says he's "he asccended". This clearly means that Christ also descended to our lowly world. And the same one who descended is the one who ascended higher than all the heavens, so that he might fill the entire universe with himself"

This again could be taken in quite a Sci-Fi type way. Being taken up into the heavens could also fit with some sort of light shining down and lifting up a being. But it also means in the physical body way, where each part of you body and mind must be an open channel, and emptied of the Matrix world that we live in for what Philip K. Dick terms the alternative reality that hides behind the veil pulled over our eyes.

It is restated when he says
"Awake O sleeper, 
Rise up from the dead
And Christ will give you light"

This to me seems awfully like the idea that we are in fact all already dead. That this world is a purgatory world with dead souls roaming, and that it is waking up, however you manage to do that, that you actually become alive. That the stages of heaven and hell are all around us at the same time simultaneously and that we as beings can transcend or descend up and down the ladder depending on or state of mind and chosen course of action. But the higher you rise the more confusion you see, that as you get closer to the true reality of the world that you cause waves and that people and beings that live in the lower levels want to drag you down from. They want to keep the souls locked down in the basement in the dark, so if you challenge their ideas you are most likely to be found and punished for doing so. This scares me, I won't lie.

This is also the first time of reading Revelation where I'm not just reading words I don't understand. Now it seems much clearer to me. Each 'church' that is mentioned seems to me to be a trial of reality that you must pass through in order to reach behind the curtain.

The Church of Ephesus seems to me to represent the people who claim to hold the truth of the reality that we live in. These could be represented nowadays by the corporations or churches that we know are lying to us and keeping us held down. The speech seems to me to be saying keep strong to your own truth and don't listen to what the masses tell you.

The Church in Smyrna seems to me to be something I personally am quite used to and this is one of struggling for money, that it is no coincidence that honesty and sharing personal truth is at odds with short-term monetary gain, that it is actually indeed better to be poor and honest that rich and a liar. And that also by fighting against this system you may be thrown into prisons or beaten down but that ultimately won't come to harm. Still, that takes a lot of faith.

When the end is described again it seems as if he had been taken to a place in the future. Remember that it was written long before nuclear weapons and drones, but that what is described by 'water made bitter' that kill many people it sounds like water with radiation and poison in it. The 'Angels' he described may have seemed to him as angels but could have been planes firing upon the land. It sounds like a world war where people run to the mountains to escape, that it is a human endeavour and not one sent from heaven. The place where he is witnessing it could be a spaceship witnessing it all, or even it could be shown on screens or any other future device not yet created. To me it seems very technological and not a primitive God being at all. And it is the people that can drag themselves out of the Matrix styled earth that will be kept safe to give birth to the new world after this one is destroyed.

And I find it interesting that within the text it states:

""Who is worthy break the seals on this scroll and open it?" But no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll and read it..."Stop weeping! Look, the Lion of the tribe of Judah the heir to David's throne, has won the victory. He is worthy to open the scroll and it's seven seals"
Then I saw a Lamb that looked as if it had been slaughtered, but it was now standing between the throne and the four living beings and among the twenty four elders. He had seven horns and seven eyes, which represent the sevenfold Spirit of God that is sent out into every part of the Earth."

This suggests that the Lamb, an innocent being and harmless, willingly went to sacrifice in order to be deemed worthy to open the scroll.
--
8.
I'll repost the video I made a few months ago which I always felt was somewhat terrifying but now even more so.


My burnt photos also have a strong apocalyptic message, which I was aware of, but again done in a manner that relinquished me from the double-bind. Most things I have made have been somewhat subconscious and based on following intuition as opposed to actual technique or a predetermined idea. Which is why I guess it is only now after so many years that I am seeing a connection between it all.

View photos and paintings here with downloadable .PDF's for many.
https://williamnein.wordpress.com

---

Friday, 2nd October 2015

Even this song seems to say something to me now. I always took it all as a past event and not a continuous battle.

"American Pie"

[Intro]
A long, long time ago
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while

But February made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn't take one more step

I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died

[Chorus:]
So bye, bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

[Verse 1]
Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so?
Now do you believe in rock and roll?
Can music save your mortal soul?
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him
'Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues

I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died

[Chorus:]
I started singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

[Verse 2]
Now for ten years we've been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin' stone
But that's not how it used to be
When the jester sang for the king and queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
And a voice that came from you and me

Oh, and while the king was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned

And while Lenin read a book on Marx
The quartet practiced in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died

[Chorus:]
We were singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

[Verse 3]
Helter skelter in a summer swelter
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter
Eight miles high and falling fast
It landed foul on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast

Now the halftime air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance
Oh, but we never got the chance

'Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

[Chorus:]
We started singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye
And singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

[Verse 4]
Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again
So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
'Cause fire is the devil's only friend

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in Hell
Could break that Satan's spell

And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

[Chorus:]
He was singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye
And singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

[Outro]
I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I'd heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn't play

And in the streets, the children screamed
The lovers cried and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died

[Chorus:]
And they were singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

[Chorus:]
They were singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye
And singin' this'll be the day that I die  


 The way I'm seeing this, and again I hope that I am wrong, is that this is all part of the double-bind situation Alan Watts mentions.

I am saying these things and feel as if I am prophesising my own death, but actually if I am correct it is that I am already dead and have been dead a long while and that I am now rising from the dead. But the only way for it to be proven would be for it all to come to pass, which would appear as death in this world and only then would people believe me. Tough situation.

Of course I could be completely wrong and therefore am worrying about nothing.