My Post 4th Blog on MySpace
.I realized while singing the National Anthem at a party on the 4th that many of my anathemas had gotten overcome. I saw the stupidity and futility of patriotism, and in the same heartbeat, of falling in love. Love, on the other hand had not escaped me, but it gets misinfoed to the point of delusion.
Love, at best, happens imperfectly-just like the whole god thing. Twelve steppers I know would like to lay the whole thing on a God. They even give him a Loki-like sense of humor and have a stupid set of beliefs that they will be led someplace that gives them the best outcomes. The tragedies, random occurences, lack of universal moralities, and general falderal once again shows that we live in a Universe where fuckup mostly rules and that we have to make our own way...sometimes with the help of like minds and sometimes with an egregore. Some of these egregores out there can get kinda scary. Just look at the fundie Jesus egregores and their devil egregore! Look at the egregore of the military industrial complex(MIC). No Virginia, it's not necessarily an organized conspiracy. It's a plan, implemented and working for a few hundred years. It keeps us down, shares the wealth a bit more giving the delusion of the American Dream even more potency. We have become the consumers of the toys and now the whole world seems to have a chance to join in. I don't know if Robert Anton Wilson had much correctness in his prediction that the World Wide Web(internet) would replace government. Government has too many interconnects with the MIC-we haven't got to electronic voting in entirety, although electronic consumerism seems to keep gaining-Bucky Fuller seems closer in his predictions, especially from "Education Automation". (BTW: the Transformers had tons of fun moments-even in its odes to Japanese monster flicks).
Back to this love issue. The best issuance of that happens in a hug or squirts in earnest outta my cock. Thass right, an earnest squirt, heartfelt even momentous. All sexual acts devoted to magical launches in enchantment, evocation, and even fucking with the god forms in invocations.
The huggage part gets interesting because the agendas seem so lessened like in a good, nonsexual back rub. These actions actually help and draw us closer together sometimes. Sometimes.
Love in its imperfections has an encouraging impetus. When viewed realistically and considered that way emotionally, it's the bomb. It doesn't fail us even in the failures of relationships...except when we choose poorly. When we choose people to partner with who've been married seven times and are loaded with psychotropic medications and who fall in love with the criminally insane or psychotic drifters-we cannot hope for good results in spite of their efforts to correct.
When I look at my long term friendships, I see longstanding progress and pretty good commitments. I mean like twenty to forty years worth! So these things have great meaning and import, and perhaps have some of the keys to success in the other endeavors.
When I look at the last fifteen years and ten women I have loved and fucked I found interesting results. The adolescent part of me(you better know)-the part that wants undying, life long love, that only 15-30%(oohhh I am fudging here, giving you romantics a break)ever get it. (Ya better marry that high school sweetheart kids and he/she better turn into your best friend after the squirting is done). That "inner teenager" or worse the inner 7-11 yearold better not be running the show emotionally or we stay fucked up in a haze of detriment.
Anyway, the teenage and fucked up kid forced to workinthefamilybusinessandbecomeanadultthathecouldn't in me ran the show and I ran from lover to lover to lover from the pain of the first one dumping me on my birthday. Don't get me wrong there, resolution came along the way and I got over it, but the pain hung on and I didn't carefully consider the heart/minds feeding the pussies I was fucking- not sorry about the graphic nature of all this; life happens graphically like heartbreak, roadkill, and steaming freshly pinched loaves on your just manicured lawn. It's all there in better than 3D...it's happenin' multidimensionally toots!
So now I have given up on it. When I see that desire in those eyes coming down the pike, I know there ain't gold in them there hills and the come only comes outta my huge balls three or four times a week even though I still love doing the whole thing. Yeah, it's ok to be a man, though in my case it definitely doesn't involve too much of the watching of sports and definitely no beer and few excursions to the topless bars(the love there seems paltry, even for the guys whose gals work there. It doesn't involve the pseudo courtesies of trying to look refined or act morally. It winds up egalatarian at best. It winds up,"hey, I am getting something outta this...if you're not why do you persist? Why do you come?..." The answers over these last several year have mostly come back affirmative. Especially when the meds seemed to work, but nothing works for the nutcases permanently, nothing except Death. Death took JoJo in her Tempe jail cell. Death waits for J to consume her like left over meat. Death ticks away in me whilest I prepare the Red Rite....
In the Glories of the Seventh Circle,
LVX, in Hell...the Checkered One.
"Do a little magick, make a little money, have a little fun, help a few people along the way, and create a little Chaos" (the Sajalom and the Doctor)
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