Wednesday, July 20, 2016

A PRAYER FOR YOU ~ by Rob Brezsny (repost)

Rob Brezsny is an aspiring master of curiosity, perpetrator of sacred uproar, and founder of the Beauty and Truth Lab. He writes "Free Will Astrology," a syndicated weekly column that appears in over a hundred other publications and on the Web.

His latest book is called Pronoia Is the Antidote for Paranoia: How All of Creation Is Conspiring To Shower You with Blessings.

As much a storyteller and prophet as astrologer, Brezsny brings a literate, myth-savvy perspective to his work. When Utne Reader named him a "Culture Hero," it observed: "With a blend of spontaneous poetry, feisty politics, and fanciful put-on, Brezsny breathes new life into the tabloid mummy of zodiac advice columns."

In its profile of Brezsny, the New York Times quoted a reader who compared his writing to that of the novelist Tom Robbins. The horoscopes "are like little valentines, buoyant and spilling over with mischievousness. They're a soul prognosis."

Brezsny's docufiction memoir, THE TELEVISIONARY ORACLE, was published in 2000. Coincidentally, Tom Robbins had this to say about the book: "I've seen the future of American literature and its name is Rob Brezsny."

Before The Televisionary Oracle Brezsny's enduring artistic artifacts were music albums, one created as a solo artist and three with the "Jungian beatnik funk" band WORLD ENTERTAINMENT WAR.

Burning Man festival 2001, Oregon
In 2000, after years as a rock musician, Brezsny branched out to develop "Sacred Uproar," a pagan revival show featuring uproarious prayers, chaotic meditations, ritual antics, and musical elixirs.

Burning Man 2001 core group
In one of Sacred Uproar's signature performance art pieces, Brezsny offers revelers the chance to get married to themselves. "Let's all just admit," he says early on in the wedding ceremony, "that none of us is ever likely to find our perfect partner or create the juicy romance we deserve until we first master the art of loving ourselves with great ingenuity."

Working with three freaky collaborators, Brezsny married hundreds of people to themselves at the Plastic Chapel during the Burning Man festival in the summer of 2001. The ecstatic ritual culminated just an hour before the Man himself was burned on Saturday night, September 1st. As the moon rose over the black rocks, the desert air shivered with the sounds of hundreds of blissed-out rapture hounds shouting out the vow "I am a fucking genius" as per Brezsny's instruction.

Believe it or else, beauty and truth fans, it's time for a prayer for YOU.

A prayer to end all prayers. A prayer for everything you've never asked for before, because you weren't sure you deserved it. A special, no-nonsense, hype-free prayer exclusively for you ~ in the most unselfish tone of voice I've ever mustered. Ready?

I am starting to pray right now to the God of Gods, the God beyond all Gods, the Girlfriend of God, the Teacher of God, the Goddess who invented God, and what I pray is:

Oh Goddess Who Never Kills But Only Changes: I pray that my exuberant, suave, and accidental words might move You to unleash ferocious blessings on all the beauty and truth fans who've tuned in.

I pray that You'll grant them what they don't even know they want. Not just the boons they think they need but everything they've been afraid to even imagine or wish for.

Oh Goddess, You Wealthy Anarchist Burning Heaven to the Ground:

The divine chameleons out there in sacred space don't even know they're crazy. Please use Your blinding magic to help them see they're all wildly creative geniuses too big for their own bodies. Guide them to realize that they're all completely different from what they think they are and more exciting than they can possibly imagine. And make it immoral, illegal, irrelevant, unpatriotic and totally tasteless for them to be in love with anyone or anything that's no good for them.

Oh Goddess You Sly Universal Virus with No Opinion:

I beg that You help all the personal growth-addicts that are reading this prayer to be disciplined enough to go crazy in the name of creation not destruction. I pray that You teach them the difference between self-destructive self-control and liberating self-control. Awaken in them the power to do the half-right thing when it's impossible to do the totally right thing. Arouse the Wild Woman within them ~ even if they're men. Give them bigger, better, more original sins and wilder, wetter, more interesting problems.

And, oh Goddess, You Pregnant Criminal Who Scorns All Mediocre Longing:

Inspire all the original sinners out there to love their enemies in case their friends turn out to be jerks. Provoke them to throw away things that make them believe they're better than everyone else. Show them how much fun it is to brag about what they can't do and don't have. Most of all, brainwash them with Your freedom, so that they never love their own pain more than anyone else's pain.

Oh Goddess, you Psychedelic Mushroom Cloud at the Center of All Our Brains:

These budding Demeters and Inannas and Buddhas and Christs deserve everything they need and much much more. Please arrange for a racehorse to be named after them, or a boulevard or river or thousand-year-old storm on another planet.

Help them win the battle against time, and learn to talk the language of the most scientific angels, and master the zen of temper tantrums, and get a fabulous mommy and daddy in their next incarnation.

Teach them to push their own buttons and unbreak their own hearts and right their own wrongs and sing their own songs and be their own wives and save their own lives.

Bless them with lucid dreams while they're wide awake and solar energy-operated sex toys that work in the dark and a vacuum cleaner for their magic carpet and a knack for avoiding other people's hells [!] and a secret admirer who's not a psychotic stalker and a thousand masks that all fit their face perfectly and their own 900 number so that everyone has to pay to talk to them.

Oh Goddess, you Dumb, Fast, Infinitely Wide River of Electricity, You Smart Slow Smoldering Lump of Angel Fat Left Over from the Big Bang, You Ghostly Snake Who Loves Inventive Tragedy and Sophisticated Superstition, You Cool Furnace That Incinerates the Props of Our Nightmares Much Too Slowly, You Creator of Happy Purgatories Where Impeccably Unironic Apocalypse Salesmen Preach Christian Satanism and Rosicrucian Baseball Players from the Middle Ages Dream Politically Cracked Dreams That Reveal the News in More Exact Metaphors Than Any Newspaper:


I pray that You provide all the global village idiots that are reading this prayer with a license to bend all laws, rules, and traditions that keep them apart from the things they love. Show them how to purge themselves of the wishy-washy wishes that keep them distracted from their divine desires. And teach them that they can have anything they want if they'll only ask for it in an unselfish tone of voice.

Oh Goddess Who Gives Us So Much Love and Pain Together That Our Morality is Always on the Verge of Collapsing:

I beg You to cast a spell to nullify all bad spells that have ever been cast on all the beautiful love geniuses out there. Remove, banish, annihilate, and laugh into oblivion any jinx that has clung to them no matter how long they've suffered from it, and even if they've grown accustomed or addicted to its ugly companionship. Conjure an aura of protection around them so that they will receive an early warning if they're ever about to act in such a way that would attract another hex or plague or voodoo into their lives.

And now, dear God of Gods, God Beyond All Gods, Sister Lover of God, Mother of God, Goddess who invented God:

I bring this prayer to a close, trusting that in these mysterious moments You have impregnated the dream glands of all the beauty and truth fans out there with the most compassionate lust and smartest love You can imagine. And if there is anything I've forgotten which will help their cause, please flash it into my imagination in the coming days and months and decades, and motivate me to perform any tricks or carry out any project that will encourage an abundance of sweaty creativity to flow through them, inspiring them to become more wildly disciplined, erotically feminist, aggressively sensitive, demonically compassionate, ironically sincere, lyrically logical, insanely poised, orgiastically lucid, macho feminist.

Amen. Awomen. Ommmmmmm and halle-fucking-lujah.
There you have it, beauty and truth fans. A personalized prayer just for you. A prayer that'll probably come true simply because you didn't even ask for it.

You may now kiss yourself on your own lips.

[First posted 10 October 2007]

Love Poems by Oriah Mountain Dreamer (repost)

The Invitation


It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming,
from the book
The Invitation
published by HarperONE, San Francisco, 1999
All rights reserved


The Moment Before


I want to touch
the sharp taste
of the moment in between
the second just before
the place where
the breath catches
in anticipation.

It's the scent of heat held in the air
between two mouths
reaching for each other, hungry.
The shine of moisture on slightly parted lips
just before
it melts into
the wetness of the other.

It is the skin that tingles
waiting
fine hairs at attention
reaching
aching.
It is the places that have not yet been touched
but know they will be.
It is the smooth, quivering paleness
of the inner thigh
as the outer is stroked and kneaded.
The muscles of the abdomen tightening
the back arching slightly
begging
come here
quickly
slowly.

There, in that moment
do not take your eyes from mine.
I am here
awake

I am
reaching
to be
met.

Do not touch me and keep your soul
out of your fingertips.
Die into me
or do not come into me at all.
Ever after is in this moment
happily or not.

Sacrifice the daydream.
Dare to hold the desire
for a great love.

Be with me.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer © 1995
from
Dreams of Desire
All rights reserved.


Oriah’s life has focused on inquiry into the nature of the sacred and the mystery of how we co-create meaning for our lives. Raised in Northern Ontario, she was at home in the wilderness ceremonies and earth-based teachings of the First People’s, eventually teaching and sharing what she learned. A mystic by nature and training, in the shamanic tradition she is seen as a dreamer, one who works to help create a story of the people that will contribute to peace and a passion for life. Her daily practice includes ceremonial prayer, yoga and meditation. A graduate of Ryerson University’s social work program and a student of Philosophy at the University of Toronto, she has facilitated groups and counseled individuals for over thirty-five years. Oriah has written seven books, including the bestseller The Invitation (HarperONE, San Francisco, 1999) based on the much-loved poem of the same name. She has two grown sons and lives in Toronto, Canada.

Oriah's homepage
| Oriah's blog


[Brought to my attention by Lady Gugu. First posted 23 February 2011]




Thursday, July 7, 2016

The eminently quotable R. Buckminster Fuller

BUCKYQUOTES from Critical Path

BUCKY
R. Buckminster Fuller
(12 July 1895 - 1 July 1983) 

ON  SPECIALISTS

Nobody is born a specialist. Every child is born with comprehensive interests, asking the most comprehensively logical and relevant questions. Pointing to the logs burning in the fireplace, one child asked me, "What is fire?" 

I answered, "Fire is the Sun unwinding from the tree's log. The Earth revolves and the trees revolve as the radiation from the Sun's flame reaches the revolving planet Earth. By photosynthesis the green buds and leaves of the tree convert that Sun radiation into hydrocarbon molecules, which form into the bio-cells of the green, outer, cambium layer of the tree. The tree is a tetrahedron that makes a cone as it revolves. The tree's three tetrahedral roots spread out into the ground to anchor the tree and get water. Each year the new, outer-layer green-tree cone revolves 365 turns, and every year the tree grows its new, tender-green, bio-cell cone layer just under the bark and over the accumulating cones of previous years. Each ring of the many rings of the saw-cut log is one year's Sun-energy impoundment. So the fire is the many-years-of-Sun-flame-winding now unwinding from the tree. When the log fire pop-sparks, it is letting go a very sunny day long ago, and doing so in a hurry." 

Conventionally educated grown-ups rarely know how to answer such questions. They're all too specialized.


ON BANKS


Society likes the idea of a bank as a safekeeping device.  People have always believed that when they put their money in the bank, it stayed there. They had no idea it went out on loan within minutes after it came in. They were completely hoodwinked by the appearance of the banks as safe, fireproof, and robberproof depositories of their earnings. Even today, in the last few years of the twentieth century, people know little more about banks than they did during the 1929 Crash or at the depth of the Depression in 1932, when all they knew was that they had lost their deposits in most of them.

ON  COSMIC  ACCOUNTING


ONLY COSMIC ACCOUNTING accounts for the entirely interdependent electrochemical and ecological relationships of Earth's biological evolution and cosmic intertransformative regeneration in general. Cosmic costing accounts as well for the parts played gravitationally and radiationally in the totality within which our miniscule planet Earth and its miniscule star the Sun are interfunctionally secreted. Cosmic costing makes utterly ludicrous the selfish and fearfully contrived "wealth" games being reverentially played by humanity aboard Earth.

Fortunately, the Sun does not demand payment for all the energy that it delivers by radiation to Earth in the overall cosmic scheme, which is trying to make humanity a success despite our overwhelming ignorance and fear. The stars are trying to tell humanity to awake and prosper and to consciously assume the important cosmic responsibilities for which it was designed. Since realization and fulfillment of that responsibility involve evolutionary discovery by humanity of the cosmic stature of its mind and the inconsequentiality of its muscle, the planting of humans on Earth may not bear fruit... The first manifestation that humanity may make good on this planet will be the serious introduction of cosmic costing into the mainstream deliberations of Earthians.


IDENTIFYING  GOD


There are no solids. There are no things. There are only interfering and noninterfering patterns operative in pure principle, and principles are eternal. Principles never contradict principles. 


Principles can interaccommodate one another only in noninterfering frequency ways. Principles can interaugment one another if frequency is synchronizable.

Acknowledging the mathematically elegant intellectual integrity of eternally regenerative Universe is one way of identifying God.

The synergetic integral of the totality of all principles is God, whose sumtotal behavior in pure principle is beyond our comprehension and is utterly mysterious to us, because as humans - in pure principle - we do not and never will know all the principles.


ON  COSMIC  ENERGY

Our most prominent present local Universe problem is how to wean humanity from metabolic sustenance only by exploiting nature's local Universe energy savings account - energy being locally imported by cosmic evolution design to produce a new star ten billion years hence. How can we convince those in power the world around that we can live handsomely as supplied only by our daily income of cosmic energy? The answer is we can't convince them. Only the cosmic wisdom manifest in inexorable evolution can cope with such matters.


ON  GALAXIES


When I was twenty-seven years of age [in 1922] Earthian humanity knew of only one galaxy - our own Milky (Latin:Galactic) Way. A year later astronomer Hubble discovered another galaxy. During the subsequent fifty-seven years, human astronomers and astrophysicists have discovered two billion more galaxies, all doing their galactic acts within the eleven-and-one-half-billion-light-year-radiused sphere of humanity's present limit [1981] of omnidirectional observing.


ON  ATOMIC  ENERGY

The would-be exploiters of atomic energy on board our planet Earth will in due course discover there is no way for them to solve atomic-energy- radiation waste-disposal problems save by rocketing it all back into the Sun, where it belongs. Humans will then have to learn how to keep all humans and their ecological support system operating successfully on our vastly adequate daily income of solar atomic energy.

Cosmically acceptable and effective decisions of humanity regarding such matters will not be made by leaders single or plural, political or religious, military or mystic, by coercion or mob psychology.

The effective decisions can only be made by the independently thinking and adequately informed human individuals and their telepathetically intercommunicated wisdom - the wisdom of the majority of all such human individuals - qualifying for continuance in Universe as local cosmic problem-solvers - in love with the truth and in individually spontaneous self-commitment to absolute faith in the wisdom, integrity, and love of God, who seems to wish Earthian humans to survive.

RECOMMENDED BUCKYBOOKS:

Nine Chains to the Moon (J.B. Lippincott, 1938; Doubleday, 1982)
Untitled Epic Poem on the History of Industrialization
Ideas and lntegrities
No More Secondhand God (Southern Illinois University Press, 1963)
Education Automation
Utopia or Oblivion (Pelican, 1968)
Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth (Southern Illinois University Press, 1969)
And It Came To Pass - Not To Stay (Macmillan, 1976)
Synergetics: Explorations in the Geometry of Thinking
Critical Path (St, Martin's Press, 1981)


[First posted 12 July 2013]

This Has NOTHING To Do With Religion! (revisited)

First published 14 January 2009, but it warrants reposting in view of Kartika Seri Dewi Shukarno's intriguing masochism in requesting to be publicly caned. Is she, apart from being partial to beer, also somewhat kinky? From Malaysiakini, 13 Jan 2009

I was absolutely flabbergasted when I read this report in Malaysiakini. This can't be happening, I thought. It's certainly one of the most absurd - nay, insane - things I've come across thus far outside of Nigeria, Somalia, and Saudi Arabia.

Don't these blithering idiots realize: CORPORAL PUNISHMENT IS A MILLION TIMES MORE "SINFUL" THAN DRINKING BEER?

Can't stand the taste of beer myself but I have lots of friends of all colors and creeds who drink - and not one of them is remotely a "bad" person just because they enjoy a couple of beers.

What's going on here is the ugly face of a dying patriarchy, trying to scare people into obedience to benighted, irrelevant, meaningless and barbaric laws invented by the falsely pious for the sole purpose of controlling others.

The question that springs to mind is this: if we're going to practise "tough love" in the interest of running "a tight ship" - then why not cane those found guilty of willfully destroying the environment for private profit? Or those who have been caught demanding kickbacks and bribes? These are far more serious crimes, with long-term negative consequences that affect the entire nation.

Beer-swigging Muslims are in the same category as pot-smoking teenagers. They number in the hundreds of thousands, if not millions. There aren't enough canes to go around if we're going to start caning every "offender." The National Fatwa Council could advise all Muslims who prefer to imbibe Al-Kohol rather than Al-Koran to keep a cane handy with which to flagellate themselves when they go home. Nevertheless, I think the hangover from overindulgence suffices as punishment.

Every Muslim on this planet has a sacred duty to speak out and defend the honor and integrity of his or her faith from being so hideously besmirched by fundamentalist bigots and time-warped fanatics such as those who advocate corporal punishment for activities some people deem pleasurable and which don't actually cause any harm to anybody (except to their own health if done in excess).

The worst disease plaguing humanity has always been the deformed consciousness of rabid control freaks who hide behind the façade of "morality" in their obscene lust for power over others.

I'd rather be in the company of a boisterous platoon of beer-drinkers than spend even one minute with any human whose worldview resembles that of a Spanish Inquisitor.

May God in her wisdom terminate once and for all the bloodlines of these hypocritical killjoys - unless their children end up marrying Germans. So be it!


Some quarters are now clamoring for Oktoberfest to be banned. Well, I just have to soothe my nerves with some gratuitous images of buxom beer-swilling Bavarian beauties. Prost!

[Reposted 22 August 2009 & 7 October 2014]


Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Let Them Eat Ketupat! Selamat Hari Raya!


Originally posted on 10 January 2009, I'm reposting this mainly because it opens with a nice picture of ketupats... and also because little has changed after seven years!


Life will never again be the same after March 8th, 2008. Not for any of the political parties whose fortunes have seen unprecedented reversals, nor for the quiet-living, tax-paying citizen. And certainly not for those of us who contribute to the nation by writing, reporting, performing on stage, or conjuring images in our studios.

What's so different about life after the political tsunami?

Obviously, the status quo is no longer static. Change is in the air and what seemed like an immovable object (the Umno/BN regime) has now encountered an irresistible force (the rapidly rising tide of an awakened and empowered rakyat).


In the aftermath of the March 8th tsunami, the "immovable" object was seen to have been swept half-a-mile downstream and turned upside down with its backside exposed for all to see and snigger at. Like the "unsinkable" Titanic that ignominiously sank, the "immovable" Umno/BN not only has undeniably been moved, it's in imminent danger of being forcibly removed altogether.

For more than half a century UMNO and its chief concubines MCA and MIC represented the vested interests of the propertied classes: the Malay aristocracy, the upper echelons of well-heeled Malayans and, of course, the foreign industrialists. It was a distinctly rightwing administration whose greatest fear and worst enemy was the bogus bogeyman called Communism. It tolerated a limited amount of pinkness in the form of strictly regulated trade unions and a feeble though stoical socialist party which for years featured the head of an ox against an industrial cog as its symbol (thereby defining itself as the political voice of no-longer-mute beasts of burden).

After the 13 May 1969 coup d'etat which saw the first prime minister Tunku Abdul Rahman deposed by a military-style National Operations Council led by Abdul Razak bin Haji Hussein, the electoral map was redrawn to ensure that there wasn't the remotest possibility of any opposition party becoming so strong it could serve as a viable alternative to what was now ill-advisedly called Barisan Nasional or the National Front (which immediately brings to mind the British Neo-Nazi Party of the same name).


So it was pretty much business-as-usual for BN for more than four decades. As happened in the United States, business began to merge with politics until the demarcation between public and private interests became invisible. Entrepreneurs and bureaucrats hopped into bed together and gleefully screwed the comatose public for all it was worth.

Mahathir's 22-year reign as prime minister saw the rise of Rupert Murdoch wannabes like Robert Kuok, Ananda Krishnan, Vincent Tan, Yeoh Tiong Lay, Lim Goh Tong and Syed Mokhtar Al-Bukhary. These card-carrying capitalists were empire-builders driven by their unstoppable ambition to be listed in Forbes Top 100. It's impossible not to tip one's hat in recognition of their vision, perseverance and sheer stamina. Yet they could never have amassed their vast fortunes without becoming intimate buddies with whosoever held the reins of political power.

And, of course, hobnobbing with power has unwholesome ramifications. More often than not. it's well-nigh impossible to draw a line between fair and foul practice. An old Greek saying cynically advises:

If you want to sleep well, make friends with your wife.
If you want to get fat, make friends with your mother-in-law.
If you want to get rich, make friends with the chief of police.



Nor could these go-getters have become billionaires by being overly sensitive to environmental and social issues. Many successful entrepreneurs find it advantageous to their public image to be seen as philanthropists - and many subscribe to "corporate social responsibility" programs whereby a tiny portion of their unimaginable profits is plowed back to the community in various ways.

A giant property consortium turned a verdant valley once populated by an Orang Asli community into a commercial-industrial wasteland. In exchange for their ancestral land each Orang Asli family was given a double-story link house plus a shophouse for them to rent out. A couple dozen kids were offered scholarships to study modern construction methods.

It all made for good PR, no doubt: spending RM335,000 of public funds on a special ceremony officiated by the PM to which all the Orang Asli headmen were invited and treated to one night's stay in a 3-star hotel, with a pair of leather shoes and a smart jacket thrown in. Nevertheless, what the developer had really done was erase the culture and memory of this Orang Asli community. Severed from their emotional links to the land, indigenous people soon cease to exist as such and become assimilated with the dominant culture.

Making a pile of money from ecocide and ethnocide is hardly laudable. I call these ill-gotten gains - like getting rich from turning youngsters into drug addicts and prostitutes. What if you're not directly involved with such unsavory activities - but happen to serve some big-shot wheeler-dealer as, let's say, his legal advisor or advertising and PR consultant? Does that make the money you earn any cleaner?

Looking at it from the strictly professional viewpoint, should a tailor refuse to make a suit for an underworld kingpin with blood on his hands? Should a dentist turn away a sex maniac minister who has been known to commit statutory rape? Not if the dentist happens to be a rapacious former chief minister, I suppose...

It would be practically impossible to do business if value judgments had to be applied to every situation. What if you happen to be chief legal advisor to Umno and have just been roped in to oversee a particularly shady operation? Or if you were a PR consultant whose professional services have been recruited to reverse the negative spin on the PM's public image?

Supposing you were married to a high-powered banker and your hubby was invited to dinner at the finance minister's residence. Would you dress up in all your finery and make small talk with a woman everybody believes is capable of cold-blooded murder?

These are very real dilemmas plaguing a few of my former friends. I say "former" because a couple of them recently dropped me from their guest list as a result of my trenchant political views. It saddens me, to be sure, that in these times of tumultuous sea and sky changes, friends and even families are being split down the middle by polarized political affiliations.

I can imagine a similar situation playing out in America shortly after Bush ordered the bombing of Baghdad. What if you were at a family Christmas dinner and one of your brothers-in-law just happened to be a senior executive at Raytheon Enterprises - one of the top-earning defense contractors in America - and he thought extremely highly of Cheney, Rumsfeld and Rice? Would you, for the sake of diplomacy, stick to remarks about the weather and concentrate on the food?

Popular legend has it that Marie Antoinette, when informed that the peasants were rioting, wanted to know what it was all about. One of her attendants informed her that it was because the poor could no longer afford to buy bread. "Then let them eat cake!" Marie allegedly responded.*

I can already picture a similar scenario developing in Malaysia as the effects of the financial meltdown and widespread joblessness begin to be felt. As always it's the working class with low cash reserves that feels the pinch first. We're not far from the day half a million hungry poor will be on the streets demanding an increase in their weekly rice ration. And some Toh Puan daintily ensconced in a 26-million-ringgit mansion will turn to her maidservant and huff, "So let them eat ketupat!"
_______

*I plead artistic licence with this well-worn and totally spurious anecdote. Marie Antoinette was much maligned in France simply because she happened to be Austrian. In truth she never actually made such a crass remark. My apologies to the memory of this hapless Hapsburg princess who suffered much and was grievously misunderstood. Reposted 30 August 2011, 28 July 2014 & 15 July 2015]



Monday, July 4, 2016

Alex Collier on Earth Transformation (revisited)



SOME BACKGROUND ON ALEX COLLIER
Alex Collier claims to be a 'contactee' with a race of Nordic looking humans from the constellation of Andromeda. He has had a number of contact experiences since his childhood and this developed over the years as he was given more and more information by his Andromedan contacts.

I have analysed Alex Collier's information, had physical and phone interviews with him. I have witnessed some private physical evidence he has provided to support his testimony, and been taken on a tour of the Decker Canyon location in Malibu where he claims to have had contact. I have also spoken with two direct witnesses verifying various aspects of Alex's contact experiences.

Alex has also revealed that he was the recipient of threats from shadow government agencies and abruptly chose to stop disseminating his information in the period 2000-2002. Furthermore, Alex has given face to face interviews with veteran UFO researchers Paola Harris and Wendelle Stevens who have had the opportunity to examine the evidence supporting his testimony and found no evidence of fraud.

Finally, back on June 2, 2007 Alex Collier gave me advance notice of a set of confidential meetings to be held at the United Nations, well before this information leaked in February 2008.

My conclusion from my investigation so far of Alex's claims of contact with a genuinely 'friendly' extraterrestrial race is that they are supported by the available evidence. While I continue to investigate Alex's case and am accumulating more evidence, I can say that so far I find him to be very credible. I therefore recommend taking the information he has to reveal very seriously. All those interested in galactic diplomacy and understanding a variety of extraterrestrial races interacting with humanity, will find Alex's work to be very helpful.

Today, Alex released a statement responding to recent criticisms directed against him and researchers who have interviewed him and/or investigated his case. It is important that contactees like Alex are supported and protected so they can safely share their material to the public, rather than be hounded into silence. I and others sincerely hope that Alex soon resumes his public life and disseminate the additional information he has to share about his contact experiences, and the evidence he has prepared to substantiate these.

The next place to go learn about Alex is his own writing in terms of his book, Defending Sacred Ground, and his discontinued journal "Letters From Andromeda." These can be accessed from the following websites:

Letters from Andromeda

For a version of Galactic History based on Alex's writing, click here for a transcript of his 2002 lecture and click here for an extract from his writings.

Online videos of Alex Collier:

1. Presentation at the 2008 Earth Transformation Conference (78 min), click here.

2. April 2009 video on You Tube (120 min), click here.

Michael E. Salla, PhD
July 14, 2009

ALEX COLLIER'S WORK WITH THE ANDROMEDANS

[First posted 13 January 2011]

Sunday, July 3, 2016

The Next Time You Say "Amen"... Think What You're Doing (No Kidding!)

AMEN happens to be the evil demiurge that corrupted ALL scriptures on Earth with his total control agenda. Also spelt AMON or AMUN, the name itself means "The Hidden One" - the invisible "almighty god" mere humans are expected to believe in and worship as a matter of faith.

When Marduk (known as Ra in Egypt*) became dissatisfied with rulership of both Upper and Lower Egypt, he moved his operational base to Babylon where he began to plot his own rise to deific supremacy, while in Egypt he continued to be worshiped as AMEN RA (Ra the Unseen), making sure his priesthood was as corrupt and wicked as they come.

Marduk it was who systematically infiltrated all belief systems with his antisexual, antifeminine doctrines which gradually developed into the austere, humorless, warlike dogmas that are today the root cause of diseased patriarchal religions like Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

The Evil Priesthood of AMEN RA is at work in ALL faiths - and their task has ever been to subvert the individual's ability to reconnect with his or her own Inner Authority - causing the masses ultimately to seek false comfort in official dogma and established institutions.

Naturally the AMEN priesthood is most influential in modern times disguised as Academia.


That's right, they have traded their priestly robes for professorial ones... and have effectively gained a monopoly on molding the psyches of the entire population through licensing and "legitimizing" all professions with their power to confer degrees and diplomas on those who meekly submit to their intellectual formatting.

Don't talk to me about AMEN. Raises my blood pressure! If you MUST say something utterly meaningless at the end of every prayer or invocation, why not stick with "So it is!" or "So be it!" If that sounds too pompous to you, just settle for "HYMEN" (at least you're paying tribute to the Blessed Virgin :-)

In Malaysia the Cult of Amen successfully disguised itself as the monoethnic, monolithic political party called Umno - sometimes called "Ameno" by its detractors. But beyond Umno, AMEN RA's deadly influence has spread throughout all levels of business and politics - and has co-opted all religious institutions, turning them into agencies of mind control. The unholy intention is to rigidify your thought processes.

How can you tell when a belief system is basically Amenist? 

Primarily, Amenism is anti-Nature and anti-Life - and this fear of organicity manifests as erotophobia, which regards human sexuality as sinful and therefore taboo unless sanctioned by the blessings of an Amen priest (or civil registrar).

AMEN RA regards himself as a "supernatural" being - and therefore has no love or respect for the natural environment. Ultimately, AMEN RA is obsessed with POWER OVER OTHERS - but, ironically, he has no power over his own irrational mood swings. When overcome by rage, AMEN RA literally goes berserk, runs amok, and transforms into the God of War, Moloch, who feeds on blood sacrifice. The Temple of Moloch on Earth is better known as The Pentagon.

When at peace, AMEN RA takes the form of Mammon, the God of Money, and it is this deity that rules the Barisan Nasional - and all those who mistake property for prosperity, money for true wealth, and brute force for power.
___
* Or Murdoch in Mediaspeak? :-)

For more background on and insight into the psychic virus called AMEN, read Akhunaton the Extraterrestrial King by Daniel Blair Stewart (Frog Books, 1995).

[First posted 3 September 2008, reposted 10 October 2014]




Thursday, June 23, 2016

TIGER ISLE ~ A GOVERNMENT OF THIEVES (BOOK REVIEW)

“If religion is the opiate of the masses, as it pretty much is in most of Asia and the Middle East, then Tiger Isle was the drug capital of the world. It did not help that most Tigerists lived in a state of denial, in particular about their religion.”

First-time novelist E.S. Shankar: encyclopedic erudition

E.S. Shankar is an erudite, articulate, Renaissance Man of multitudinous facets. A UK-trained accountant and management consultant by profession, Shankar also maintains a satirical blog called Donplaypuks where he lampoons local politics with a generous dollop of schoolboy humor laced with sagacious insight.

Recently he published his first novel, Tiger Isle, A Government of Thieves – a highly engaging 380-page study of the evils of kakistocracy (defined as “governance by a clique representing the worst elements of society, from the Greek, kakos, meaning foul, or filthy”). I don’t know if he has found a local distributor yet but the book can be easily ordered online. I can assure you, nobody will begrudge Shankar the $13.49 price tag, considering the massive amount of brilliance and sheer hard work the man has invested in this epic read, replete with evil machinations, murder, sex, and apocalyptic mayhem.

Shankar’s spicy fiction is based on depressing facts anyone who has been monitoring Malaysia’s political milieu since 1969 will be familiar with: the bureaucratic apartheid created by artificially imposed racial and religious boundaries; the boundless avarice and power lust of a privileged coterie that wields a deadly stranglehold on the national psyche through absolute control of the mass media; the audacious and systematic plunder of a nation’s wealth and the methodical hijacking of its destiny for private gain and ego gratification.

Indeed, while the events and characters depicted in Tiger Isle appear to be broadly inspired by actual events and characters in Malaysia, the scenario is easily modified to fit any post-colonial Southeast Asian nation. As such, Shankar’s lovingly crafted debut novel sheds valuable light on the nature and internal workings of corruption, hubris and megalomaniacal delusions of grandeur – and deserves to be prescribed as supplementary reading in any meaningful political science curriculum.

It’s no mean feat to construct a parallel universe populated by doppelgängers of clearly recognizable personalities - and yet allow the characters sufficient autonomy to generate the tension and drama necessary to animate this fictional domain called Pulipore, or Tiger Isle. There is enough narrative momentum to keep the reader turning pages – although one requires a photographic memory to keep track of unwieldy names like Rekha Krishnasamy Roshan Prasad, Adhi Sri Dr Bhairav Oak Broad Leaf Sivan, Kapalin Blowfish Black Panther Chandran, Maitreya Blue Dolphin Suryan, and Sri Sanatkumar Mutthiah Muralidharan. Those in the know will smile at the inclusion of a few “ascended masters” in the colorful cast of characters.

Not only are the names extended, Shankar gleefully provides genealogies for a few of them, going back several generations – in the process adding a wealth of side commentary on the fascinating diversity of cultures to be found in the region. Place names like Pulijayam, Chandrapore, Shaktipore and Suryapore evoke a subcontinental aroma – hinting at the lingering influence of ancient civilizations like the Srivijaya and Majapahit Empires.

With an accountant’s eye for detail, Shankar delves into a morass of financial shenanigans conducted under the corrupt aegis of UNTA (United National Tigerists Association). Indeed, one might conclude that Shankar is merely making it all up - were it not for the fact that most Malaysians are already aware – thanks to the internet - of the endless list of dubious deals signed behind closed doors and labeled Official Secrets.

I couldn’t help but smile wryly at the irony of it all. Whenever Shankar relishes his role as novelist and puts effort into fleshing out his fictional characters, he succeeds in giving his narrative a measure of realism; however, his intimately reconstructed accounts of high-level wheeling and dealing come across as pure fiction because their outrageousness simply boggles the mind. We shudder at the realization that Shankar didn’t have to invent anything – merely switch a few acronyms and names around.

And, just as happens in real life, we are confounded by a plethora of acronyms: PACC (Pulipore Anti-Corruption Council), CCCP (Chandrapore City Center Plaza), PPC (Pulipetrol Corporation), PSA (Patriot and Security Act), PSB (Police Special Branch), and PITS (Pulipore Information Technology Service) – so much so the reader is at times compelled to refer to the acronym list on page 382.

As a writer, E.S. Shankar occasionally suffers from what may be called “the fisheye lens” syndrome – in effect, his omniscience and encyclopedic knowledge compel him to throw in too many asides and insider jokes. This slows the pace down – but only minimally. On the whole I was impressed by Shankar’s fluid syntax and flashes of literary virtuosity, for instance, when he begins a chapter with a killer line like: “The economic picture was pretty from far, but actually far from pretty.”

The story acquires a hint of Ian Fleming towards the end, when Shankar conspires to put all the biggest crooks of Tiger Isle together on board a private jet – and then leaves them at the mercy of seven female amateur ninjas and a couple of renegade pilots. Regime change through the ballot box is simply too banal and boring, I suppose. Or too unlikely. Or perhaps the eternal child in E.S. Shankar just felt like giving the plot a tiny twist of Quentin Tarantino.

Regrettably, Shankar’s magnificent effort will not qualify for the epithet “The Great Malaysian Novel” – simply because it’s all about Tiger Isle, heh heh, not Malaysia.

GOOD NEWS! Shankar has found a local publisher, Gerak Budaya, and Tiger Isle ~ A Government of Thieves will be officially launched at the Royal Selangor Club at 7PM on 20 November 2012.
[First posted 28 September 2012. Reposted 23 November 2014 & 28 May 2015]