130121 What
For We Be - Words Art & Music True & Free
58
this year.
What
Value has flowed from me?
Is
any of what I've come to believe I learned, Knowledge? Valuable?
Sensible? Wisdom?
Have
I answered any worthwhile questions?
Have
I given to a higher cause, or merely been part of the problem?
But of problems, what are it's opposite?
Cures?
Solutions? Answers to stopping the atrophy?
Is
Atrophy the correct state of “life” on earth?
Inevitable.
The down of the up? The low of the high?
The
dark of the light?
Surely
yes, yes, and yes?
Amoeba
to Empire to Self-Extermination!
Surely
yes, yes, and yes?
The
living core is apparently eternal.
So
life after self-extermination goes on.
What
new form does it take? If it has form?
Or
is it all back to the Unity? To the Primal Light!
If
then, does choice exist? Can we return, resume, where we left off?
Taking
only the good bits, the fun stuff?
Leaving
the neg's to not exist, ANYWHERE, in any time frame, time zone,
time-space continuum?
Rhetorical
qvestions, born of the shortage of answers. Of the curious mind.
Alas!
The insatiable mind!
The
root of insane-ness!
Out
of the now, dragged back by insane untrue culture, of qvestion
qvestion qvestion, into
the frantic future of paranoias, while the mind stays chained to
loose mentations of the undisciplined, deceit-filled, chaotic past,
of, conditioned, cultural,
demonic elite's enforced uncertainties of ?FOOD?
and a roof? laughter? and Respect???
today - tomorrow - in 9 months - 10 years?
O?
For that illusory security of “No
Worries!” today,
tomorrow, in 9 months, 10 years?!
Who
can tell me, not me, US,
where to find that security - NOT
- illusory, that REAL
Perennial
Security?
White
Fella? NYET!!!
Christians?
GAMMON!!!
Indian? Bleck Fella? African? Amazonian?
O!
YO!
Let's
GO!!!
And here? Stuck in the land of the slain
Immortals, surrounded by mindless zombie remnants from the warring
culture of the northern death?
“SING!”
Sound! Words! Music! Art!
Now-time!
Into The Eternity, Perpetually, Presently.
Not
hungering. Not craving. Not thinking of then,
to or fro.
No past. No future. No foe.
Rhythm. And Blues. Harmonies. Currents, and
True.
Vibrations, of the Didgeridoo.
Soft,
Strong, urging in through the belief-barriers cemented by shallow
traditions, traditions all built to cover the fundament, to uphold
lies, to keep blind our - Hearts', our Souls'...,
eyes.
But
back, back, back, before the violin, before the tuned-up strings, the
Didge', sang True.
Right
through the stone walls, straight through the rock of ages,
unnerneath... the
drumssss....
mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
YUP - YUP!
mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
YUP - YUP!
mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
deep deep talking down into True You.
Art, don't need words. Spirit don't need
painting.
Sound
of the Original, of the Aboriginal
Light goes right to..., the True You.
As the world winds down to a perceived sad end,
scientific reports confirm long-held suspicions, that we've blown it,
we whiteguy egomaniacs.
We whiteguy crazymind egomaniacs, so mad we
can't begin to look into our True You, True Me, True Us, and start
dissembling the madness, the covered-over, ignored chaos in our own
minds.
Why?
The devil is full of tricks. So clever she/he
inhabits the soul, fools us to thinking we are sovereign in there.
So when something sparks a question inside,
about this, about how sane we may or may not be, up he/she fires the
programs to distract us, deceive us, inspire us with false confidence
that WE are sane, OK, well, good, everything HE/SHE is not. Or to
send us into a rage.
Hohohohohohohohohoho!
And-a-hehehehehe!
Centuries
of having no Wisdom in the mentors, in the clerics, in the
governmentors,
in the font of the culture forced on us, turns the mind - in fact a
collective of individuals,
who think they're individuals, but are really just particles of a
mass of inculturated
delusions - into a mud of slippery deceptions.
Each one of us now chaotically slipping around
and along on the common slime of a warped and pernicious culture,
long knocked right off the path of simple pure clean living and
self-disciplined, satisfied minds, enjoying the Collective
Pure Dream.
Words. Art. Music.
Words, once Sacred. Respected. Refined and
clean, attached to the Soul of the Truth, spoke no ill, no evil.
The mind, the Shaman, the Gadjiki, the Doctors,
knew well of the darkness, but knew as well of the Way, to stay safe,
Pure, Clean, in the Present, by not going to, not referring to the
darkness, but by talking in “opposites” thereby alluding to it,
thus, giving it no cause, no sense that it exists, thus that it
therefore has a place to activate it's tomfoolery.
The True You, True Me, True Us, is Wisdom, Knowledge, Consciousness, Bliss, and rests, lives, plays, laughs far above the darkness of negativity, so is ahead of it, and gets the advantage everytime a play begins where the fools are inspired to be foolish.
And..., when the path is so lost, and war comes
to the fore, seemingly as the only option, the True You, True Me,
True Us, is still there, here, ahead in time and in space, awaiting
the battle with fearless joy, waiting for the fools to pop their
confident heads above the trench, above the parapet, ready to swing
the sword of truth swift and decisively, decapitating the fools
before they even see what they face.
But, shun confidence! Shun, hubris! Shun
assumptions of VICTORY, until after the mess is cleaned up, the souls
buried, and the music of mourning has played the tunes of Respect.
Forget the war. Forget the fallen.
Return 1st, to the True You, True Me, True Us,
in the Natural Silence of the Mind's Fundament, to restore the Core
of the Self to it's High Place, to It's Throne, to Your Crown.
And, let the Music Play.
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
BRYUP - BRYUP!
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
BRYUP - BRYUP!
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Mi-ama-mi-ama-mi-ama,
Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r....
BRYUP!
All
Praise the Immortals!
All
Praise the Warriors who have fallen
Fighting
for a Just World!
from
the Traveling 4x4 Tent of
JUST
DEFIANCE
aka
GENERAL
BLUE MEANEE
aka
Max Earth
Anchor,
for
Outlaw Junction
GLOBAL
Advocating
Land,
Tax,
Housing,
Family,
Agricultural,
Cult,
Drug,
Work,
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&
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