Apropos of Nothing except for Coming in on a Wing and a Prayer.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

The most difficult thing in the day to day is keeping your edge. If the ineffable isn't pushing you then life has to and the more difficult part of the equation is not to have too much material success. It can make you soft. Should you be so seemingly fortunate as to have more largess than you can use and you are too cheap to share it... you're screwed.

The other thing is to avoid advertising the need for it because too many people in this life seem to need that as confirmation. My feeling on the matter is, “go talk to Mozart” and while you are at it try to remember that Grant is not buried in Grant's Tomb. You'll figure it out. You're smart... or I hope you are. I'll give you a little help. One of the words needs to be investigated. Like 'Tomb'?

In this life there are all kinds of perks that turn into curses. Good looks should spend some time studying the flowers and reading the good poets... then again... “shall I compare thee to a summer's day?” Yeah... even then, it is our perception of anything that gives it the quality of forever, cause... down here, forever only exists in terms of our forgetfulness of the last time we were here, again... and again... and again... big wheel of fire keep on turning, proud lady of endless beginnings keep on burning.

Fame is kind of like being remembered by all those people you think you will never meet and discovering that the percentage of them that thinks you were an asshole, far exceeds all the people you met in whatever life you had that think you were wonderful. Wealth insures that all the people you wish you could have met and hung out with... realistically speaking... in hindsight... you won't get to meet and hang out with. You don't get to have those experiences that shape you in the right direction. It will insure that you will make bad decisions concerning your own humanity but... what the fuck... there are PR agents to take care of that. Power is a double edged sword caught in a trident and wielded by a wrist and an arm that is so much more powerful that your own will ever be. For myself... there is nothing more satisfying than watching power turned upon itself, which is a big part of what the purpose of demonstration is all about and I don't care how many PR agents you have. Justice is watching pretty girls grow old. Then again, poets have a different idea about how things work than the rest of us; except for the occasional mystic and madman and depending on the times... any one of them could be interchangeable.

The player piano of karma is no less fickle than Justice because we all think we are playing the piano. Are we? My answer to that is that I prefer the guitar. It is easier to carry, which is why it got invented in the first place. Honesty is about as desirable as integrity and both of them will get you into big trouble in the short term and get you out of all trouble in the long term. To understand how that works in reverse, you only have to live long enough to find out and... all of us do... over and over and over or, god willing... we learn earlier.

I have said more than once that, regardless of how my life has gone up to this point, I consider myself one of the luckiest men in the world but that is only because of what I sincerely desire over everything else and any one of us has the same options. What you are chasing after defines you. Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. Then again... it is not flattery if it is true. It is the truth. We have said before that 'when the truth takes off 'her' clothes, the world disappears'. The Elf wants to make T-shirts out of the things we say around here. That would surely count as a good example of one of those statements. Luck has nothing to do with it and I am about to personally demonstrate that but... give me a little time.

You understand Time, right? I'm not talking about what Einstein allegedly had to say, nor Steven Hawkings either. I'm talking about the difference between a week in Cabo and being in prison or the Motor Vehicle Department. Everything is relative to our understanding of it and therein lies the key to understanding life. If we could only grasp how much subjectivity rules our life, we would understand Richard Lovelace a little better; not that most anyone give a shit about him these days. Most of the attention of those who come to this planet, in any privileged sense, are more concerned with Adam Smith or Milton Freedman. There are liars and there are liars but don't ask me to tell you the difference because apparently I know nothing about the stock market or the economic conditions that everyone has to deal with, suffer from or make a killing at.

Freedman... in the cynical manner of so many of his ilk, spoke in that peculiar eloquence that bankers love, about wealth redistribution and we have seen the Bush, 'trickle down' theory and the blatant and pernicious scheme that Gates and Buffet and so many others are up to lately about leaving all their wealth to charity and making them all philanthropists; at the moment that makes it ...so... critically important to them; that being while they are still alive. We've seen a lot of shit since we got here and the fact is that people take things at their surface appearance. You really need to be a dumbass to believe Karl Marx but you need to have rich friends in the first place to be Karl Marx. You have to be an even bigger dumbass to believe what venture capitalists have to say... venture? Vulture? It is not up to me to say. It isn't “stuck in the middle”. It is 'squeezed in the middle'. You want to understand economics; take the largest demographic and make juice out of it. It is also what makes it possible for someone to be a politician. They don't mind lying about what they do. Damn! I just explained lawyers and doctors too. I think I'll go take a nap, if only in the hope that I create something I can wake up from. My problem isn't waking up. My problem is being able to go back to sleep.

I tell myself that I can't remember when there were so many lying motherfuckers around but that is because I used to suffer from selective memory.

Back to Richard Lovelace. Richard Lovelace was a poet. He was also one of the richest men of his time, given his inheritance, which he squandered (if that is the right word) in wars against his own country; meaning he backed the other countries and he got bankrupt and thrown into jail as a result. He wrote a poem called (irony alert), “To Althea, from Prison” it speaks volumes. I am not cheerleading for seeking to defend treachery or treason, though I don't think he can be legitimately accused of either, I'm just saying, real values can get your ass in trouble and so can informed idealism; which we are not seeing lately in these political thug movements, or most any movements in recent times. The only respectable movement I know about at the moment is a bowel movement and you can learn just about anything you need to know about yourself by scientifically studying your own shit. Trust me on this... there is no attempt at humor in that statement. Being scatological has it's place but this is not one of them.

The worst form of cannibalism is when you eat yourself but we do most things by proxy these days. Our language... our diet … our sexual practices. It seems to me that most of us don't even have a choice about any of these things, or that is definitely the excuse that gets used most often. Europe is finding out that it is one thing to help people out and another thing entirely that they were where they were in the first place for a reason. If we lose the individuality of different locations there will be no reason to go there anymore and if you really want to help people out, do it where they are. Do it where they are and sometimes that means leaving them alone.

Being truthful is a liability. If I were a politician, my campaign slogan would be, “Let's make abortion retroactive.” then you can add the candidate of your choice. In my case that would include all of them. When it is impossible for anyone who actually gives a shit to even get into the club ...period, you are definitely looking at a Mosh Pit. It doesn't surprise me that people kill themselves. I see it every day. Just because they do it in slow motion does not disqualify it as suicide. Or... am I missing the point? There is a difference between a fencing foil and a saber. I got nothing against bullfighting per se, I just prefer using a scalpel. Degree of difficulty makes all the difference in whether I consider something a sport; otherwise, shit like this happens. How seriously fucked up do you have to be to believe that something like that works? You wouldn't lose your capacity to have sex if you weren't fucking things wrong or fucking yourself up to begin with. Once you need potions or toys, you have lost the plot. Possibly you weren't in love to start with. Primarily, you have to love yourself. How come someone like me who was taught to hate themself can pull this off and all these coddled freaks of nature who came in here well shod have only learned how to trample each other to death? Life is truly a mystery.

I'll leave you with the thought that finding out why you are here and what you put your attention on has everything to do with what puts its attention on you... or keeps it from doing so.

End Transmission.......