Archive for the ‘ ramble ’ Category

Lay off my quadrant, Gumbytron!


Una hembra de hamster ruso

Una hembra de hamster ruso (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

The Jehovanator had gotten pretty up tight over the millenia, having been confined to this backwater sector of a minor Galaxy.  He especially didn’t like other gods muscling in on his territory.  He had pressed the “smite” button on the followers of a few minor gods who were trying to get a foothold in his franchise on more than one occasion.

 

This Gumbytron was gonna be a problem though. She was insidious. She would do stuff for Beings she had no hand in creating and not expect anything in return. He looked at it as a sort of “loss leader.” You know give out some free stuff until you can get your foothold in a market, then when they’re hooked, hit them with the worship and sacrifice shtick. He had seen it before.

 

But, the Jehovanator had completely misread Gumbytron’s intentions.  Her mission with the Hamster planet of Snadragon had taught her a few things about sentient beings.  She had watched the fear that the human population lived in from their designated god.  That the people of the planet still found joy in their existence was a tribute to the human spirit and not a reflection of anything the Jehovanator had done for the local population.

 

The cycle for one small planet in the sector presented an opening for Gumbytron.  Earth had been sequestered since the end of the last ice age with a probability randomizer and was unable to send or receive signals to any of the other populated planets in the sector.  Because of this, most of the humans sincerely believed that they were alone in the cosmos and that maybe the info the Jehovanator had planted with his pyrotechnics and smiting was all there was to know about human history.   The randomizer had start losing its phase response in the year 1994 of the major Earth Calendar and people were already plotting transdimensional grids in a few of the larger Earth settlements.

 

The phase response fluctuations would come and go but were fairly predictable.  Gumbytron had sent Agnew to Earth in 1963 to prepare a transition point for the Hamster People so they could open trade negotiations with the aboriginal peoples of the planet.  There were of course many alien seeded species on the planet that would have to be avoided.  They usually had agendas that were contrary to hamster principles.

 

Gumbytron had taught the hamsters of Snadragon many things that the Jehovanator had withheld from his created beings.  She knew that once she had lifted a spirit from the vacuum of non-existence there were really only two ways to control its ultimate destiny.  Through love or through fear.  The path of love would, of course, create beings of infinite potential that would learn that their bodies were merely a tool for the expression of the great Spirit on the lowest plane of existence.   The teachings she passed on to the hamsters through her many incarnations empowered them to teach their offspring that more could be achieved with cooperation than with competition.

 

Not that competition was useless, but that because of the transitory nature of the physical vessel, more could be achieved by the accumulation of wisdom than by the keeping of secrets.  New insights that even Gumbytron was surprised by were constantly being revealed in the woven mythos of Snadragon.

 

to be continued

 

Buzz Trip through the Cosmos


manhattan solstice 3

manhattan solstice 3 (Photo credit: Dave Kliman)

 

The Neighborhood Nuts are all hunkered down in their
campers, hovels and sheds for a snowy Solstice.  I
didn’t make it to pops to restock his whiskey supply.
I don’t expect he’ll be going anywhere today.

I’m stationed here for the Solstice in South Mantucky.
My friends all pussed out on putting together a
Solstice Party so fuck ’em.  I’m gonna hide in my
room and try to channel Gumbytron.  It’s a perfect
night to tune into the Divine.

Or get obliviated.  Perhaps I’ll do the latter, I’ll
see what over-the-counter and prescription goodies
I can whip up into a Smoothie and take a Buzz Trip
through the Cosmos.  Ah, but those days are sadly
behind me, I gave up on polluting myself into a
stupor quite a while back.

I had wanted to go down to Lake Hope for the Solstice,
I was supposed to be there for the 72 hour opening
of the Blue Gate but it wasn’t in the cards.  I had
thought of renting a cabin down there but again none
of my buddies would commit.

I could have worked on the replacement matrix board
for level 4 I suppose, which by the way is progressing
nicely.  Getting rid of the Superiority Complex is
a major improvement over the previous prototype.  And
the Pizza Mandala in the center of the matrix grid
looks quite good.  I don’t think I’ll include any
intersects of divine intercession into the matrix but
mazy add a few gates.

Which reminds me, I have to get my Hyborian Gates
cards back from Knight Chris so I can complete my
matrix board.  I could also use some found objects
but nothing of interest has turned up around here.

I feel kind of naked without my wizard staff.  I
should have brought it with me to Mantucky.  At least
I have my spell book, “Space Ghost : The Sorceress of
Cyba-3,” with me.  Don’t think I’ll need it but you
never know.

 

Hippie Eupocalypse – T – 32 Hours


Hamster fishing

Hamster fishing (Photo credit: The Shifted Librarian)

 

This may be the last time I write in a human form.
The day of the Hamster Ascension is upon us and when
you see me next I may be a 400 pound white hamster.
I eat crackers, not because I have to but because I
like them.

We are entering a 3 day randomization wave that will
cause many hierarchies to shuffle and you may find
yourself reading meters for Columbia Gas in a suburb
of Columbus, Ohio.  Or find that you’ve turned into
a FOOD – LODGING exit sign on the highhway.

I howver planned ahead and asked Gumbytron for
intercession that I become a 400 pound white hamster.

DO NOT PANIC!

All universal IP addresses have been logged prior to
the randomozation, and if you can’t handle your new
assignement, you can follow the tinmeline you were
on for a small monthly fee which will be added to
your cable bill.

Those wishing to continue on with the new protocol
will have the opportunity to see what the new
technology brought to you by Burnt Hamster is
really capable of.

Set you sights on hyperevolutionary transformations!

 

what do you call a man?
who doesn’t breathe in what he believes?
what do you call a woman?
whose days are spent with timely thieves?

what are we doing?
really
writing all this nonsense
none will read,
and those who do
have agendas of their own

i have an agenda
a simple one
leave me and mine alone
we have no quarrel with you
no matter how we disagree

your system breeds more of us
than it can imprison
or kill in pointless wars
you can’t poison our babies with your GMOs
cause we are getting wise to who and what you are

so pick a spot
how many of you are there?
i think not as many as you would like to believe
you’ll find yourselves on an island
gold to make the Inca drool
but who will do your bidding now?

 

Hippie Eupocalypse, Day -5.12


The powers that be have always sought to divide the people into more manageable chunks, so over the course of history, they have divided us by language, religion, nation and state.  It’s “us” against “them” except the “us” is “them.”   We are shackled by all the invisible strands of governance whether it is the Father and Mother governing their Children, a priest governing their parishioners, on and on.

It is so instilled in our evolution that we accept that this is the way things are supposed to be.  When we were called to Gumbytron, it was to be like Her, not to be worshiped or pleaded for favors.  All these strands, these shackles, have been useful up to a point.  Why am I rambling…  sermonizing?  In a pious mood I guess…

Invisible strands but not stronger than the power and realm of your imagination.  Not stronger than the strands of love for one, love for all things  UGH, I hate myself when I ramble on like this…  You can do it yourself or seek a guru or rabbi.  Anyway who cares?  What comes from Source returns to Source so it can’t be all bad.

Yesterday, I went to Downertown to see my pops.  He’s Cronos, but somewhere along his journey he forgot that.  He remains steady at the helm of his remote control.  Bottle of Kessler’s.  Max has gotten used to me bringing him Slim Jims.  He searches me now and whines whenever I walk in the door.  It smells like 90 cats in pops’ lil shed he lives in.  I usually reek when I get home.  That’s why I usually only stay a couple hours at most.  I love my pops, even bought him some Febreze, but with 5 Cats and a pit bull in a 2 room 9 X 18 shed, it can be pretty overwhelming.  Pops was immune.  He had long since given up on the chemical war he was having with his cats.

It starts, I guess, when you begin sharing.

ease in


Hockey hockey hockey!

 

ease yourself in,
dip one toe,
feel the water…

ease into complacency
and join the rest of them
be happy chasing greenbacks
and playing Fantasy Hockey

drink a lot of beer

 

you know it’s only a latency,
you’re one of them,
you can fade like a flower of obscurity
obscure beauty
a sardine in a tin can

peel back the foil
and drain all the oil
packed in in tenements and suburbs
you’ll make fine appetizers

for the hungry gods you serve…

 

The coming Hippie Eupocalypse: Day “Oh who cares?”


The Hippie Eupocalypse

Rog and I are in the Family Dollar on Main to get pops
some collector’s edition toilet paper.  I grab the
biggest one of ’em I can and Rog says, “Damn, that’s $9.50.”

I said, “I know but it’s the best value.”  Rog doesn’t want
anything for his 50th birthday, at least not from Family
Dollar.  Hell, it was like pulling teeth trying to get him in
the store with me.  Rog is my pops’ brother but he never
officially adopted me as a nephew so I just call him Rog.

Trouble at the counter, the computers are fucking with me
again.  First, the scanner won’t read Rog’s Turtles candy bar
and the girl behind the counter fiddles around, first with
the candy bar, then tries punching in the numbers, then tries
scanning again a couple times.  Finally, she reaches over the
counter and grabs another Turtle and it scans.

I go to swipe my pass card on the reader and it’s cranked up
against the register and my card won’t slide right.  I try it
from the bottom and it reads.  I go to punch in my PIN and the
girl pushes the reader down and I hit the wrong digits and panic.
I let out a groan and the girl says, “Sorry!

I say, “No problem, not your fault…  I was just trying to
punch in my PIN when you moved the reader.  It’s the machine’s
fault.”  Rog and I grab our goods and I head off in the wrong
direction for the door.

Rog says, “The door’s this way Mike.”

I reply, “See, I told you to come in with me.  I’d have gotten
lost and had another panic attack.  And you didn’t want to come
in with me.”

Pops, doesn’t feel much like drinking, says he’s been sick for
three days, but Rog and I are by the liquor store so we stop
to get a bottle.  Rog won’t come in again and I’m not gonna
argue with him so I head into the store by myself, leaving Rog
in the minivan listening to the radio.

The girl at the liquor store says, “Hi!”  I’d only seen her
there one time before but she seems to recognize me.

I say, “Hi!” back at her and look behind the counter at the
liquor bottles.  They put all the hard liquor behind the
counter a couple months ago because too many people were
stealing.  The Evan Williams isn’t on sale any more so I ask
for a fifth of Kessler’s.  That’s pops’ usual brand anyway, it’s
alright I guess, but I would have preferred the Evan.

Rog is in the minivan, zoning out when I come out with the
Kessler’s.  The doors are locked and I can’t get in.  Rog
fumbles around and I point to the lock switch and he flips it.
I get in and Bob Seger is still playing Ole Time Rock ‘n’ Roll
on the radio.  Time is moving slow again so I bang my chronometer
on the dashboard.

We’re listening to the radio about to turn on Jefferson when I
see the soy bean trucks going in and out of the processing plant.
There’s no hurry now on the narrow stretch to Huckabuck, just
take it slow and let them do their things.  A tune pops into
my head, a fragment of a new one.  I sing:

“The GMOs are running slow on Jefferson today…” as we’re going
over the railroad tracks and Rog pipe’s in with another fragment:

“With the old soy beans laying across the tracks
Hope that trains full of women
‘Cause I’m tired of going in men’s backs…”

Rog, it’s at moments like these when I realize just why I love
Rog & pops and Downertown.

something about nothing at all


Image

27 November 2012

Been all over Gumbytron’s Cremation today, and I must say, a fine day it was.  Woke up groggy around noon and had my day’s first cigarette.  Bugler.  Trying to quit the nicotine scene but those darn drones they keep flying 24/7 keep chemtrailing me with subliminal tobacco advertisements.

My sis need me to run and take her kids to their practices so I did that and headed to Downer Town to take a book to an old friend.  It was a copy of the Illuminatus Trilogy by Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson.  I had to read it twice to get the story but definitely want to read it again.

Finished reading my reader’s copy of Bent: Atypical Girl by Teri Louise Kelly and absolutely loved it.  Forgot to mention that.

Anyway I went to Downer Town to visit an old friend and we went out to dinner at El Campesino’s and the place was empty on a Tuesday night.   Got to have some decent Mexican food and some conversation other than the Buckeyes beating the Wolverines.  Actually we talked some deep shit.  Theosophy, Chopra, the cellular hypertorus I was down loaded with,  the prophetic dreams she would have.  You know, usual wizard stuff.

I like wizards.

After that I stopped at my surrogate father unit’s little shack near Huckabuck to have a couple shots of Evan Williams and smoke a hooter.  He’s not all plugged in, which I like, and he told me some good drinking stories.  He usually does…  I reminded him that he was Cronos which he seems to forget when he’s been drinking.

Drive the 22 miles home thinking about the shape of reality I want to see and how it all seems to be happening around me.  The moon is full and we are supposed to have a penumbral eclipse but I’ve gone out several times for a cigarette and still haven’t seen the eclipse.  Gonna go out have one more smoke and look.

ramblings about matrix boards


linear map attached to a 2-by-2 matrix

linear map attached to a 2-by-2 matrix (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Space-Christals/247497271985165?bookmark_t=page

here is a picture of my level 3 matrix board in operation in my bunker.  as i mentioned in a previous post, i screwed up on the construction of the level 4 matrix board and i’m going to have to go back and make a new one.

the matrix first came to me in some download in December of 1994 and i constructed level 1 out of a piece of cardborad in jamuary and february of 1995.  that was a big mistake because when the people on the matrix board started warring with each other i broke it in half in anger.

but that is another story…

the matrix is based on what i perceived to be a “cellular hypertorus” that could be navigated via the matrix boards that i build.  years go by between building of levels.  the prototype for level 5 is in the bunker next to level 3.

on another topic, more on downloads, i received some downloads the other day while i was inspired and of all things, the men in black were shooting at me again.  i wonder if they somehow got my coordinates because i hadn’t heard from them in a couple years.

i wish the Illuminati would pimp my ride.  my minivan is in sad shape.

odd ramblings in the middle of the night


tuesday, 02.07.20..12

bragadocio a dosie doh and here we go.  spent a week partying my ass off and i’m exhausted…  i’m running on fumes.  Saturday night, i found out while watching CNN and the Nevada Caucus results that i was married to the new female commentator in a parallel universe.  more of the TV saying one thing and my mind hearing something completely different.

only sold 3 copies of my new book, “Space Christals” and i’m not sure how to proceed in promoting it.  i’m thinking of leaving some copies lying around in coffee shops and maybe even outside the library here in town.  don’t know what good it will do.  everybody seems to be so busy smartphoning that no one has time to try to figure out my poetry.

i’m quitting the Space Program
i’m not even in the Space Program
you can tell by the way i like to breathe atmosphere
and we all go home with smiles on our faces

what’s really tragic is that you’re reading this
maybe nobody is reading this
maybe i’m not writing this
maybe i’m just imagining i’m writing this

my head is a big ball of mush right now

wait a  minute…  now i remember!  i’m supposed to be engaging the reader!  but actually i have no time for that… there’s nonsense to discuss, one thing that there seems to be a steady supply of.

speaking of nonsense, this is an election year and i’ve been watching a lot of CNN…  i think i’m addicted.  the debates are better than any reality shows out there for entertainment.  i’m glad there are still 4 candidates.  can’t wait for the next shoe to drop.  the top two spend more time explaining themselves than talking about the issues.  i probably won’t even vote… i’ve moved 3 times in 7 months…  once across the country.   yeah, so i probably won’t vote.  i’d vote Green anyway so probably not gonna do them much good this year.

now i’ll close with a poem from my new book:

Zion

Riding the main road into Zion,
Daydreaming
Of the Pope
Taking off his miter
And jacking off to a picture
Of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas
Doing it on a divan,

Riding,
Sweat dripping from my mustache,
It tastes like your sex

And I’m thinking of you,
Far away in Zion,
Lying in bed
With a dyke named Hal
Eating Malomars and smoking Pall Malls,
Malomar crumbs on your saggy, brown belly.

I’ll be in Zion in 12 and a half hours
If I push the Dodge the rest of the ride
And don’t get stopped for speeding.

Can I have coffee with you in the morning?
Will you let me tell you dirty stories
While I make you scream?

Tell Hal to put your key under the mat
When she leaves.

I have a trunk full of Malomars.