Be here now more.

The Insider

I had lunch with one of Newsweek’s ‘Greatest Interviewers in the World’ the other day. A Japanese princess who was brought up in the forbidden city and studied Political Science at Columbia University. She’s spoken to every major head of state for over 40 years and just wrote a book called The Structure of the Global Underworld. She’s also a granddaughter of the Meiji emperor.

We met at a private club for lunch in midtown. One of those old boy establishments with the innocuous entrance that leads directly into a frescoed ballroom. The sort of place where the staff adore you if you speak to them like human beings because all the usual members treat them with such distain. With all the studded leatherwork and dusty portraits the energy in the place was flat. But when we sat down and I asked her how she came to know of the NWO her words were charged.

Like most people I wasn’t born knowing about the NWO. It was my interview work with people like Gadhafi and Saddam that led me to it. Unlike other journalists she had real access to world leaders. She could meet with them in private, casual surroundings. She had no one to report to. No stance to uphold. From there it was easy to see how the truth was manipulated by the media depending on who you were and what you were hearing. She said the key to controlling people was to do so without their knowledge. But I knew this. Goethe had said it. Then again I don’t think even he could have imagined how scientific the process had become. We exchanged topical observations of information that once released made it simply impossible for people to avoid reacting in very, very specific ways. It was not that people were stupid. On the contrary, they were logical. But that was the rub. Because nothing is as predictable as logic. And so nothing is more easily controlled. What do you think all the great government advisors have been specialists at? She smiled at me. Behavioral psychology.

I thought of the last century’s heavy hitters, the Henry Kissingers, the Zbigniew Brzezinskis, even the authors of the Report From Iron Mountain, who had all taken psychoanalytical theory to levels far greater than the individual. As a Globalist one had to think with the mind of an Edward Bernays – who took his uncle Freuds understanding of unconscious drives and extrapolated them to use within the collective. He didn’t see people as hearts that beat to unique rhythms but as cold robotic groups that habitually reacted to the same specific stimuli. To succeed in mass manipulation one was required to have a surgical understanding of the emotional drives of these groups and the triggers that spurned them into action. It didn’t matter whether they reacted to religious fervor, intellectual freedom, love, justice, prestige, security, anarchy or enlightenment. To the NWO no belief or drive was unworkable because it was not the belief or drive that mattered but the fact that we had them.

As we sat and spoke a part of me drifted into a reverie about this. It was a curious thought. That even I, who struggled for free will daily against my primordial hard wiring was still controlled in the same manner. Because the desire to escape pre-conditioning and the stimuli that triggers it is still an operating system. Yes, I too could be predicted to act in very specific ways. I would choose the truth over lie, harmony over discord. If pushed anothers life over my own. Yes, I too was predictable. I too was attached. Even if it was to non-attachment. And so where did it end? Where would I have to place myself in the cosmos to be so smooth that nothing would ever be able to catch on my coat tails? As she spoke my mouth dropped open. For a moment I was stunned. Awe struck at the task before me. This was Tao Te Ching territory. Beyond belief, honesty, morality, even light and love. Was to be truly free, to exist beyond everything?

Too Many Words

Why do we speak. We speak because we need to manage our lives. But when we’re not managing our lives we still speak. Day after day, night after night, we jabber on and on and on. 

There is no such thing as just talking. Casual conversation is a euphemism, an excuse for what is really taking place. We do not speak because we need to. We speak because we are nervous, because we are anxious, because we are incapable of remaining silent. When we are calm we speak less. When we are sure of who we are, of what our purpose is, we don’t even speak at all – we act, we watch, we listen, sometimes we even smile. What is talking? It is a condition of the neurotic. They are directly proportionate.

The act of conversation is a self-consuming one. One forgets oneself in the flow of words. One is in love with the sound of one’s own voice. Just as in war and sex, one is so caught up in the act that one’s self is momentarily forgotten, and with it, the neuroses attached to it. There is also the interlocutor, the other, to whom our ego is completely dependent upon for existence. When we speak we are not saying I am funny, I am interesting, I am deserving of sympathy. We are saying Am I funny? Am I interesting? Am I deserving of sympathy? Though we may come to believe that we possess these attributes, we are constantly asking to be reassured of them. We are unable to remain certain on our own. We have to be given permission. We have to be congratulated, admired, provoked. We have to be told I love you, to believe it.

Lovers who speak incessantly are not necessarily deepening their bond by discovering more of each other but simply reassuring one another of their own self-worth. The words themselves mean nothing. One couple will talk of art, literature, science. Another of television, movies, magazines, other couples. There exists an established strategy in which we seek positive affirmation from our interlocutor that begins in childhood with a parent who smiles and makes faces believing it to be for the pleasure of the child alone. But in the gesture is hidden the question. Because if there was certainty there would be no question, there would only be action. And so the problem remains. And soon the child’s own dependence on the question is in turn created too. Growing up they inherit the same insecurity, looking for assurances in everyone but themselves.

Why are we so reliant on the other? Because our culture is Other orientated. We do not know how to manufacture personal happiness alone. We only know how to work for others to give it to us. What else are the ambitious, the creators of the world, the writers, musicians, architects, scientists and inventors other than those who are either burdened with a greater need for assurance or a greater ability to provoke assurance. Their work is the same as others except that it is more concentrated. They will go for long periods without any assurance at all in exchange for the hope of a great amount of assurance all at once. The creator produces for himself an independent satellite that flows around him and alleviates the need for him to actively seek out assurances one at a time like a foot soldier. The creator is a general who creates an army that now works for him while he sleeps. He need not lift a finger.

When we speak with our friends we are so often entering into a mutually beneficial agreement of self-serving satisfaction. Calling them at the end of the day we take turns to whine, unload our sorrows and exchange our pent up energy simply because we have not been provided with an alternative. We still do not know what to do with it. We have no idea how to transmute it. We only know how to redistribute it, thin it out, either all at once to a parent or lover, or bit by bit to one friend and then another, taking extra care not to exhaust the saturation levels of each. The archaic energy flow of the family unit. The spreading out of a single problem to every member available.

But this does not make psychological problems easier to solve. It enables them and gives them more fuel to thrive. Unless a problem needs physical labour, more people will only compound it. Why do we spread it from one member to another? Because we have been conditioned to avoid opportunities to grow psychologically at every turn. Yes, we are weak, and we cling to it.

The next evolutionary step in human communication is telepathy. For many it is already a reality. But before it becomes widespread the understanding that we are saying nothing will slowly and naturally become the norm. Like bad breath a certain impotence will become associated with verbosity. When the eyes of the other begin to stalk us, our blabbering will drop off entirely. From shame a truer communication will emerge. And thus, by definition, a sparser one.

You wake up and whisper sweet nothings to your wife. She smiles at you and you get it. You kiss your baby good morning, he smiles, gurgles and you get it. You say hello to your secretary at work and a clever phrase to your boss. Again, you get it. Then at lunch you go out and the man at the sandwich counter gets your order wrong. When you tell him your ego is subtly triggered by the micro sensation of superiority because you have been given an opportunity to correct him justifiably. But because you exert yourself sensitively, generously you save his face and he is suddenly in your debt entirely. Handing over your sandwich he nods gratefully. Your victory over him is total.

We have become technicians at camouflaging our demands for assurance. Most go directly but the more perceptive use inverted snobbery. Too wary of the game they simply go the other way. But the need is the same. With more perception one is simply assured less easily. But it’s a game that one plays alone. Manic depressives are simply inconsolable because their minds are too knowledgeable. They arrive at Tolstoy’s conclusion. Everything is pointless. But then they have also reached a threshold. And with a little push they too like the old man may come to find God. And where? Oh yes ho ho – inside. 

Wait for assurances and you will wait forever. But provide them to yourself all unconditionally and you will create a state of mind that is beyond games altogether. Then you will have become your own provider and in turn you will have blended with the creator. Then you won’t need anything from anyone ever again. And for the very first time, you will actually be able to give.

Immortalists

I can boil an egg without using a timer. I don’t count the minutes. I don’t watch the clock. I just know. I can also stop muscle spasms. Like that one that happens underneath the eye. I can just say stop and it stops. I was doing it about an hour ago and it worked then too. We all have deep, magical powers. The only question is how long we decide to deny them.

The other day I met two men who’ve done away with denial altogether. Next to them my egg magic was nothing but a stunt. A crowd pleaser. Something fancy but ultimately showing little mastery. Because Leonard Orr and Dr. Gerry Epstein are men who teach physical immortality. Men who state quite categorically that our current general rate of aging is simply a product of our conditioning, and nothing else.

Orr must be in his early eighties but he was still tanned and limber. He had this nice glow to him and a story telling style that appealed to all the ladies. He leaned into the crowd, caressed them with zingers, and dropped names like Babaji and Moses. He began his talk by telling us how he’d been a Christian, then a born again Christian and then a trouble maker. He spent his youth asking questions in Church like how did all the men in the bible live into their hundreds? Why does John 3:16 say that the gift of eternal life can be ours? And how did Enoch, Melchizedek and Elijah all attain immortality? In total sincerity he kept asking the Bishops what the hell was going on. But even in their cassocks, they didn’t know.

So he traveled to India where he sought out anyone who had lived for over 300 years; the required chops for anyone claiming mastery over the physical. He said he found seven and then proceeded to tell us about each in detail. What they ate, how they lived, what their practices were. By this time the energy in the room was electric. People were sweating, women were hyperventilating. This was no miracle cream. None of us could keep still. And we all knew what was taking place. Leonard was attempting to shift mankind’s single greatest paradigm – that death is inevitable – on a Tuesday evening from between 7 and 9 at the Om Centre on West 59th street. It was ballsy. 

But Leonard’s not new to controversy. He was pulling in crowds back in the 60s when he first started speaking about abundance management skills and how to set your emotional state to receive. And that was even before he’d invented rebirthing – a way of overcoming the trauma of being born by re-inducing the experience with prolonged underwater hyperventilation so that memories stored in the body can be brought to the surface and released. The concept is in line with most disciplines in which we draw ourselves into a state that we want nothing more than to escape. Because then if at that very moment we remain in it, a tremendous transformation can be achieved in a short space of time. Like an acceleration of the evolutionary process. Leonard calls these thresholds Urgency Barriers.

Epstein came from a different school altogether but was essentially of the same mind. An MD who teaches visualization and meditation, Epstein runs the Institute for Mental Imagery and is along time health practitioner who refers to doctors as quacks. I liked him. He wasn’t confined by conventional medicine but used it to confirm alternative forms of healing scientifically.

What is the greatest cause of premature aging? Epstein said that it was the perpetual instigation of the False Emergency State. Not to be confused with Urgency Barriers a False Emergency State is any instance in which we allow ourselves to enter into a state of fear, stress or anxiety that is not justified. Unless someone has a gun to your head you have no reason to get stressed. And why would you want to? Releasing chemicals from the endocrine system, the pituitary glad, the adrenals and countless others that will need to be broken down by an entirely different set of chemicals if you don’t immediately run a mile or fight your way out of crowd is the fastest way to die. Stop taxing your body as if it’s life and death every time your lover leaves the knife in the jam or your mother gives you a guilt trip for not calling her. You want to know what causes a system to break down? Undue stress.

Epstein’s advice was self-control. Stress inducing situations are like the weather – they’re going to keep doing what they’ve been doing for thousands of years whether you like it or not. So you have to ask yourself – how is it that after all these years I still haven’t learned to control my triggers? He indicated to the woman who’d asked the question. What are you? 60?

This, they both agreed, was the first stage of physical immortality. Next to that stage two was easy – feeling the energy body. Another one of the many aspects that we’ve pushed out of conscious range because of the noise, din, and sheer racket of daily life. Feeling the energy body is like attempting to feel the movement of fluid in the space between your skull and your brain if that space went all the way down to your toes. And usually, along with meditation it’s exactly where the cynic stops. Right at the moment where they could have all the proof they need. Because for proof you just have to sit and feel it. But no cynic ever sat for a serious amount of time attempting to feel the energy body because  any of them that did, were converted.

Don’t try to escape it – unless your parents are immortal, you have inherited a death urge. Orr spoke of the four foods of an immortal; Fire, Air, Water, and Ether. You have to sleep near a fire he said because it cleanses the auric field. You have to drink and bathe in water filtered of all heavy metals because it cleanses the physical. Air he went on and on about. He even laughed and said that since he’d walked in the room he hadn’t noticed a single one of us breathing deeply. Shallow breath is a symptom of stuck energy. One of the classic mechanisms of suppression. Breathe deeply and you stop fidgeting, you stop the elegant habit of eating the inside of your mouth and, yes, you have better sex.

They both spoke about breath for the rest of the night. The consensus was unanimous. Breath controls your state, your centre, even your health. When asked what life was Gurdjieff said breath, and if you watch a clock long enough and connect your inhalation with your exhalation like babies you can slow down time. Orr finished by saying that if there was one thing that all the great immortalists agreed on, it was that breath was the key to life. Then again what advice did the oldest immortal that I ever met give me? – Stay away from humans.

 

Disclosure

I met a retiree last night who’s worked in government for years. He made it sound like a mom-and-pop organization. As if the top tiers were all filled with sons taking after their fathers and women keeping good homes and shutting the hell up. He was very nostalgic about the whole thing.

He said that the public was about 40 years behind the truth. When I asked him about what in particular he laughed. Advanced weapons systems, propulsion, bionics, genetics, T&D, APA, A&P. He went on and on. I nodded my head and made a face like I knew exactly what he was talking about.

The extra terrestrial question came up soon after that. He mentioned John Podesta being appointed head of the Obama transition team. A man who’s twice publicly called for ET disclosure who you can even see on You Tube doing it at the National Press Club in 2002. The fact that he’s Clintons former chief of staff and clearly a real human being makes the clip that much more surprising. You rub your eyes just to make sure you’re not dreaming. Apparently he was primed to go through with the whole thing when the Lewinsky scandal blew up and Tony Robbins was called in.

People are preparing for disclosure all over the world, he said. Any number of governments could go public and in a way the Vatican already has. He described their chief astronomer Gabriel Funes announcing that aliens are our friends with a so-so Italian accent. I fake laughed and agreed that it could only have been a preemptive strike so as not to look foolish if and when something did happen. And really there’s no other reason the Church would suddenly decide to announce that believing in aliens does not contradict faith in God other than to prevent people turning their back on Him when they realize we’re not the only ones made in His image, or the first.

He also told me that the timing of the British government declassification of their UFO files in May was no coincidence. The possibility has never been closer, he said. But that in his opinion it would still never happen. I asked him what he meant. He said that the government has never freely admitted to lying. And they never would. You open up the ET case and you have to revise religion, dependency on fossil fuel, and the economy, all in one foul swoop. Everything would be turned on its head. He made the hand sign for traveling in basketball. And that’s not to mention the psychological trauma. I mean people are still having trouble acclimatising to gay marriage and abortion. How do you expect them to handle genetic manipulation and abduction?

Celui qui croit ne sait pas.

Celui qui sait ne croit plus.

The greater the artist the less responsible they are for their art. The secret of greatness? It is never yours.

Astral Projection

I astral projected last night. I flew around for a while. Sped up, slowed down. I heard the astral wind. Wooooo. It’s no big deal. You feel-make it happen. You just find the middle way after a few moments of going too fast and loosing control or going too slow and beginning to fall. Its a middle way that we unconsciously know well. In an act as simple as say, holding a glass, we excel in it. We don’t hold so hard that it breaks, nor so lightly that it slips from our hands. We hold it just right. And we don’t even think. And in that very act of holding is the secret of life. That middle ground in which power and control are in harmony. And its a funny thing really, when you think about it, that your hand lives the Tao better than you.

Men don’t give women orgasms. Women give women orgasms.

I love you is a question.

The problem with some women is they feel one thing but say another. The problem with some men is they take their word for it.

Scientology

I spent last week at the Scientology center down on Times Square right opposite the Broadway show Movin’ Out with Billy Joel. I was getting trained in Dianetics. About a week earlier I’d met this woman who spoke to me about The Church and suggested that I find out why it was so popular. Why it was one of the richest institutions on the planet. She also gave me a couple of free books at the special reduced rate of five dollars off. I was very excited. But then I was also a little tired of being in conversations with people who spoke about the organization without knowing anything about it. Not that I wanted to defend it either. I just wanted the truth. And I also like Tom Cruise a lot. I think he’s a really good actor.

The first thing you notice when you walk in is how high-tech everything is. Televisions are everywhere. And they insist that you watch all the introductory videos a minimum of three times which is a classic passive resistance brain washing technique. But I didn’t mind. I just ate the free biscuits and loudly made out with my girlfriend so we couldn’t hear anything.

And I will say that some of the people there were a bit wonky. But then it does stand to reason. After all you don’t find healthy people in hospital. Or calm, centered people in therapy. But I’m not making any judgments either. I just went in and began the course. It was fairly straight forward. We have a conscious mind and an unconscious reactive mind and the unconscious reactive mind controls us. And every little trauma we’ve ever had is still right there with us. Getting re-triggered over and over and over again. Day in, day out.

Of course the theory is sound and the techniques they use do seem to work. But it is presented a little simply. Like they intentionally package it for five year olds. Or people who don’t speak English. Or who are very slow. The study books for example are a bit like pop-up books. And most of them can be colored in.

But the people there are very nice. And they all speak to you very softly. And as you’re doing the course they give you a dictionary in case there’s a word you don’t understand. And if you don’t have a dictionary right there next to you then they get you one. And even if you do have one they ask you if that one is adequate. They also test you on your understanding of words too. Words like adequate. And meeting. What does meeting mean? Then they ask you to use it in a sentence. And the funny thing is – if someone asks you a question like can you use ‘meeting’ in a sentence? You’re so astonished that you’re being asked such a question that it actually becomes fairly challenging. But don’t get me wrong it is a very good course. Even though they do make you feel like you’re retarded.

When you arrive they call you a Pre-clear. Which means you’re as retarded as it gets. Which technically means you have no free will. And that’s really what the whole hoopla’s about. The view that you simply do not have free-will until you have stopped Re-Acting. Until you have identified all of your conditioning and overcome it. But of course no one believes that. People walk around thinking they’re making decisions all the time about how to act. But really they’re not. They’re just Re-Acting. Re-Acting to stimulus. Even the brain signals that alert your mouth to say something or your body to act in a certain way have been found to proceed the actual conscious decision to do so by a very, very long way. And thats not even scientology. That’s real science. Some guy proved it. And some other guy in England just wrote a book about it too. Its no joke. But then tell someone they have no free will and watch what happens. They just laugh their heads off.

There are certain strange obviousnesses.

Remote Viewing

I met one of the founders of Remote Viewing yesterday. He’s technically blind. But for twenty years he rode a motorbike to work and got paid millions of dollars by the American government to train spies to psychically see whats going on in places thousands of miles away just by sitting in arm-chairs and closing their eyes.

The whole thing began in the 60’s when reports began to emerge about parapsychology experiments being done behind the Iron Curtain. Means by which intelligence could be gathered in a way that was impossible to either monitor or control. Then in 1972 he gave a speech at a Nasa conference on speculative research and ended up taking a walk down the beach with Edgar Mitchel, Arthur C. Clarke, James Fletcher, and Werner Von Braun. Funding began soon after.

He said to me that most people pooh pooh the idea that we can know and see things via channels that are above and beyond the five senses, but that people at the top usually know that Psi is real and are even willing to admit it. He went through some of the basics. We live in a field of information. We are part of this field. It is interconnected. Still the mind and you can enter it. Then you can know whatever you want, go wherever you please. From an intelligence standpoint Remote Viewing is the mother-load. The skill of skills. Black ops in the causal realm.

Of course it comes as no surprise that half his books talk about his conversion to spirituality. An unplanned and yet unavoidable benefit in a practice where stilling the mind is step one. But RV is not new. Mystics and magicians have been talking about if for centuries. Indeed even the best-selling Hindu blockbuster the Bhagavad Gita begins with Sanjaya closing his eyes and recounting to blind King Dhritarashtra what is taking place in a battle hundreds of miles away, in real time.

And at the height of the project a small team based out of Stanford which included a retired police commissioner were successful in locating hostages, downed aircraft, and nuclear installations. I even got to watch some 1970s archive footage of a long haired Uri Gellar who could clearly be seen practicing psychokinesis in a Faraday cage, a flower shirt, and a very tight pair of bell bottoms. Then in 1995 when project was declassified and the CIA released a statement claiming that they had found absolutely nothing of value in their research of three decades the blind biker started a company called Delphi and Associates and made a hundred thousand dollars in their first month by Remote Viewing the value of silver on stock market from an office in California.

But what particularly interested me was where the work has been taken. Where RV was today. But the problem with knowing about government funded projects in the present is that you have to have a current and credible source on the inside or you’ll simply end up receiving material that is either thirty years after the fact, or complete bull. People speculate of course. And from what I hear psychic spying on the astral plane is real. But where does that leave the rest of us.

It’s a question of development, he said. Are you interested in developing? I nodded my head. Yes, development. You see if you make listening to your body a habitual thing you will begin to see that it is making noises, squeaks, little jitters and bumps constantly. This is your deeper awareness making contact with you. But as yet you don’t understand the language. You don’t realize that they are all occurring at specific times, suggesting specific things, indicating where to go, what to do. You are being told everything perpetually, and you don’t even know it. You may even have begun blocking the signals out. And why? Because you are stubbornly holding on to the limited reality that you have become accustomed to. You are holding onto it, and you are unwilling to budge. Like a donkey. Yes, you are a donkey. I nodded my head. I am a donkey.

Ability and awareness are the same. The more you open your mind to the greater reality, no matter how hard it may be, your development will follow. Because it will have no choice to. It will simply have to expand to accommodate it. And so you will become more conscious. You want to know the astral plane? It is like the ocean to a savage. Impossible to chart. Ludicrous to even consider. It is a place that you deny yourself because of a single arbitrary belief. And so like the savage you are confined to the waters edge. Your entire existence limited. All because of a thought. A thought that you have made law.

Love will not save you. Because it cannot. Love is for you to hold up.

Crop Circles

If someone tells you that they know how crop circles are made then they’ve simply never been in one. I traipsed around Witlshire this season looking at them and met one fifty year old academic after another who claim to have been studying them for years still without any proof that they’re man-made. Even the locals when pressed could do little more than mumble something about a show they once saw with a bunch of low-calibre pencil necks from the University of God-knows-where explaining in great detail how you can make large three-dimensional pyramids and nine-fold geometrical forms in wheat fields using a single length of rope and some wood. 

You see at distance they’re majestic. And confounding. Not a single person has ever been caught making one even though they can be up to 400 meters long and 200 meters wide. They’re also made on uneven ground. And even a child who wants to be an engineer when he grows up will tell you that overcoming logistics like that requires time, precise machinery and if possible a team in the air to cross-reference symmetry and proportion. But back in the early nineties a pair of goons called Doug and Dave somehow took credit for making all of them worldwide for about ten minutes until they were asked to actually make one and subsequently produced something that looked exactly like a complete pile of shit. Since then hoaxers have been given a new name. Wanks with planks. 

A land owner that I spoke to whose family’s been leasing what he described as everything as far as you can see from here dear boy from the university of Oxford for generations told me that if someone was making them they would have been taken to court by now. We can’t stand the things. Even if they are forms of cosmic graffiti, they’re on private bloody property. 

But we did agree on one thing. They’re geometrically impeccable. Every line is perfect. Every arc flawless. There simply is no human error. And in any of them. And of course ask the pros and they’ll just bore you about the changes in the electromagnetic field surrounding them, and how the nodes on the shafts of the wheat get blown out of size, and how many of them are precisely lined up with other ancient sites around like Stonehenge, Silbury Hill, the Pyramids. But none of that stuff really got me going. I was interested in the areas where the wheat had been perfectly woven without any visible entry point. And wheat’s a delicate thing. You can’t take a single step through the stuff without making a complete mess of it. And yet time and again there were these spots, these whole, perfect points in places where no tram-lines met. Without any pathways in or out. Areas that you would literally have to be airlifted into to weave, before being airlifted out again. 

The day before 08.08.08 there was a great deal of talk about how a new formation might occur like the one that had appeared the year before in Eastfied on 07.07.07. Speculation was the afternoons big theme. Everyone had a theory. After lunch at the Silent Circle a surveillance operation was formed with about 200 people pitching tents and small enclosures to watch for any action along the main ridges around Calne. For a while we drove around wondering which angle to take until we eventually found our way up Knapp hill. The car park at the base of it had a festival atmosphere to it. There was even a team in a Buckminsterfuller tent serving rich chai and chili chocolate biscuits. Even Channel Four had sent a couple of guys along to see what all the fuss was about following the Daily Mails article about the Pi formation a couple of weeks before. But no one really expected anything to appear and around 5 in the morning I wandered back down the hill cold and miserable. When I got to the chai tent I warmed myself with another mug but the conversation was so disastrous that I ended up going back to the car and listening to some Enya. 

I couldn’t say what time I dozed off but at 8 I was woken and told that something had appeared less than a mile from us. So we drove over after having breakfast at the White Horse and getting directions. The thing was massive. Within half an hour the place was littered with on-lookers. Small planes were flying over head and men were taking measurements on the ground. It turned out to be a figure eight in the style of two serpents meeting each other in the center. After almost an hour inside we began to make our way back to the car when a light-weight unmarked Apache approached and just hovered over it for a while. And think what you will about the whole thing, but that alone tells you something.

Giving unsolicited advice is stepping on someone else’s head in order to suck your own dick.

You were searching for money all your life. How did you expect to get it? Money’s worse than women. The most hungry, most desperate, never have a chance.

Documentaries

I met a guy the other day who claimed he was employed by the CIA for over twenty years to make fake documentaries. It was the funniest thing. Apparently in order to keep tabs on Latin and South American countries during elections and insurrections they’d send him in with a pony tail and some Bermuda shorts and tell him to get coverage of all the main players. He told me those were the days when you could just blag your way into a coup if you had the right look. He said his angle was the casual one. To walk right in off the street stinking of grass and claiming to be super-simpatico to the cause. Apparently you could do that in the sixties. I will admit that his collection of artifacts was impressive. Lots of photos. Documents with original seals. A signed copy of Carlos Franquis’ book. With great solemnity he told me that it took him twenty years to quit because the money was so good. When I mentioned John Perkins his comments made me laugh. He painted Perkins as a teachers pet to his back of the bus kid. But they were in the same racket. When I first met him it was in an apartment off Houston that looked like Ali Babas cave. It was filled with computer parts and televisions stacked on top of each other. He was just like one of those smoking gun types constantly tinkering with technology and a old pot of chicken soup. He even served me some with some bread from Dean and Deluca that he said he’d salvaged whilst dumpster diving. Every Friday or Sunday he does it in this bright orange biochemical outfit that looks exactly like the one that Marty McFly wears when the Doc gets shot in Back To The Future Part One. When he told me that he’d washed the sour dough only half an hour previously I almost spat out my noodles. But so what, food’s food.

Drugs

I spent last night with a pharmacologist who moonlights as a small-time southern French clairvoyant. He brought me over some high grade, home grown doob and spent the evening smoking a great deal of it through an ancient bone chillum that he claimed some old man from god knows where gave him. He wanted to share his thoughts on expanding consciousness. 

Drugs will only do it momentarily before snapping you back to a place even smaller than where you were when you began. A one step forward two steps back sort of thing. A brief glimpse via the elevator. But climb up yourself and you can hang around all day. 

He took me to a bar off the Canal du Midi and ordered us two pints of shit beer. His attempts to tip the waitress with refinery were a catastrophe. But then he was holding a bone chillum in his hand that really just looked like a big dick. When he turned to me again his thoughts were in a muddle but I understood what he was attempting to explain. He seemed very interested in the latent, dormant abilities of the individual. 

This, he waved the dick in my face, opens us up to a mass of information that we only normally receive unconsciously. In this state we are far more aware of our energetic effect on others. A single movement, even in a place like this, will create counter movements and micro-counter movements in everyone else. Like schools of fish in the sea. But sober and we hardly notice them. We have in fact been conditioned to shut down our awareness of the greater truth of any moment because it can be so difficult for us to bear. Precisely why mystics say we don’t remember our previous incarnations. I mean could you live with your father today if you knew that three hundred years ago he’d been your wife? Paranoia is merely the emotional reaction to the recognition that what you are hearing and seeing from a person is in contradiction to what you are feeling from them. We’re all constantly saying one thing just to hide the fact that we feel another. And it’s not easy watching the lies of your friends and lovers day after day after day. It’s a heavy burden to bear consciously, regardless of whether it’s only being done reflexively. This is the reason why we have trouble understanding conversations in this state. Not because we’ve become slower but because we’ve opened up to the full information available. And because this portion is so vast, so much greater, so much more real than the charade, the theatre, the sheer falsity of our words, that a portion of the mind simply finds itself ignoring them. As if you were suddenly shown the motor of a performance car you were buying, when all along you’d just been checking out its paint work. Only a telepath, my boy, knows the full extent of the worlds pretense. 

From out of the corner of my eye I had noticed a couple of local girls checking us out. But every time I glanced over they pretended not to care, or suddenly began having what appeared to be the most interesting conversation in Europe. He went on. Of course the real truth is that we’re not really saying much at all. We’re not talking to communicate. We’re talking to expend nervous energy. To feel less anxious. We’re talking to relax. But it’s about as effective as draining a lake with a tea spoon. And we all know it. Because when we talk we’re actually slowing down the potential communication process by a massive degree. We’re reducing it to a linear grain by grain production line. But we’re capable of exchanging so much more, so much more quickly. There is in fact no limit. But speaking with these blunt staccato lumps, this completely stilted machinery, these individual fragments of such stark, inexpressive sound, we are simply slowing everything down. Every word we use is in fact simply reducing, through beat after battered beat, how much we are able to express, into smaller and smaller bits. The more you talk the less you say. The less you talk the more your mind will find another way. He now stared at me hard now, and slowly but meaningfully tapped his dick on his head. I ordered more beer. 

Jade Dragons

In China several thousand years ago Emperors used to train as Jade Dragons. Taoist sexual techniques for spiritual growth, healing and longevity. Old school rumpy-pumpy methodology. The archive of literature is vast. At first glance it looks like men get the bum rap. Apparently we’re not to release our semen at every encounter lest we grow weak, slow and very, very stupid. Man’s entire practice is about discipline and restraint. But the women are told to let go. They don’t tire from sexual encounters as we do. They are energized by them. A woman’s sexual appetite is said to be Oooo Shyien - without limit. And so for a woman to live at her full capacity she must be unleashed and given the freedom to have as many partners as she desires. But today such behavior is still condemned. Women still whores. Men studs. Yet biologically it’s all topsy-turvy. To remain strong and in good health a man must contain his Jing, his Mysterious Ancestor. A woman can go like the clappers. The more sex she has the more her immune system is boosted, the stronger she becomes, the more creative. Indeed the more a women gets nailed properly the more she will become like a god. Like high grade Ayuashca the bodies serotonin increases even after the peak. There simply is no come down. The result – a stronger, calmer, less nervous, yes, less neurotic feminine psyche. But for that she must be freed from the cultural stigma that restrains her. That creates repression and, in turn, illness within her. And all men, at one point or another, arrive at a moment in their lives when the boundaries of their so called love are tested. When they are asked if it has come with a condition. Because real love has no conditions. So a man, if he is one, must be completely prepared to give his lover the freedom that she may one day desire without retribution. And in turn she must ask herself if she is willing to accept it. For between a woman’s fear of freedom and a man’s jealousy of it, our evolutionary progress is at a standstill.

Black magic. A cheap result, for a pint of your blood. 

Black magicians. The sorriest souls. The greats who didn’t get it. Or who were too broke to knock it.  

Humility is dignified arrogance. 

The first thing I’m going to do tomorrow is go out and buy Usher’s new fragrance. 

Men who are constantly having sex with different women are searching for nothing somewhere. They will find it. 

The Body

I met someone last night whose attempted suicide several times. She was pretty, smart, talented, the usual. We talked for a while. Or rather she talked at me for a while. She told me that her mind worked too fast. That she had trouble slowing it down. That it never gave her peace. That it hurt her on a daily basis. I told her that she should take control of it. But she gave me this look like I was talking nonsense. So I asked her if she’d ever tried to just feel herself. Because if you really, absolutely cannot slow your mind down than the only way to do it is to redirect its attention elsewhere. Television works of course, but that’s like solving hunger pains with candy floss. It doesn’t really work. But listening to the noises of the the world does. The outside. Because you can’t listen to the outside and the inside at the same time. And you can’t feel the oppression of the mind if you’re feeling the warmth of the body. And unless you’re sick the body always feels good when you just feel it. Its like a Labrador that way. It just loves it when you pay attention to it. It just wags its tail and stairs at you with that big soppy grin on its face. Sometimes it even tries to stick its tongue in your mouth. But it’s not a pervert. It’s just so desperately happy that it sort of wants to be you. And in its little understanding of things, having its tongue in your mouth, is basically the same thing.          

Women who fake orgasms are just asking for more of them.

Orbs

I left my god father this morning and drove up to Indian Wells to have a Cobb salad and play a round of golf. I hit twelve over par. One of the members even drove his cart over and told me to stop throwing my clubs in the air. I was very gracious with him. Then I had a Mahi Mahi Burrito and drove out to meet this girl who sees orbs. Apparently it all started happening four years ago when several thousand of them lined up in front of her and phased through her chest. She told me that she crapped her pants and then got dumped by her boyfriend. Everyone thought she was mad. For a year her family made her take one test after another until they ran out of ideas and checked her into a clinic and let her rot. But the doctors said she was fine. There was nothing wrong with her. For another two years she spent her days and nights in complete fear and finally, boredom. Apparently orbs were everywhere. Then she found this couple who’ve known about them for years, who just premiered this film called The Veil is Lifting. Who live in this community who call them in with flutes and cosmic limbo dancing and then take photos of them every Sunday after a pot luck. Their view is that certain people are simply beginning to see other dimensions superimposed upon this one. And all at the same time. They had this big presentation and a slide show at the Palm Springs Conference Centre which has a capacity of about four thousand. They showed the film and then had one person after another come up on stage and tell their story. Outside a bunch of hippies in sandals and tie-dyed t-shirts sold crystals and essential oils. I bought some hermetic deodorant and got a photo of my auric field. It was very fulfilling. Later on in the evening we went outside and the girl called them in and we all took photos with our cameras. Occasionally the same ones could be seen with different cameras at different angles. Corroboration took place with tedious regularity. The girl was thrilled to now be considered not only sane, but gifted. But the star of the show for me was really the conference centre. It’s this incredibly elegant piece of architecture. Covered in wood and flowing lines and massive, open spaces. It shits on Lincoln Centre. The carpet makes you sea-sick though.