| Frêsh Fish |
|
Archive Mea Culpa. The above Archive Link & the Search This Blog Link do not work. This happened after Google, the king of search, bought Blogger?
Frêsh Fish - Much magic for a little fish.
Frêsh Fish is a combination of new and spirited with the added bonus being that everyone knows that fish is best fresh. The icing on the cake was that my mother’s mother, Lena, always told her and she me, that fish was brain food. So with Frêsh Fish we have spirited and new food for thought, ideas, that ain’t got no stink. I was suppose to eat fish today and did not. I hope I can be forgiven.
|
Thursday, November 27, 2003
Seven notes, seven planets, seven legends of angels. I played guitar this morning, something I haven't done, for shame, in a while. My honey is a TB 1000, a Travis Bean. Mine is, I had to find some glasses and look, mine is 1374. I think about 2500 were made. Ok, she is a bitch to play, heavy, weighs a lot, and not the best action. Still… In search of she Who will still… Still she is mine, and she has never let me down, she has never deserted me, she has always been willing, always faithful. It has always been me that was lacking, lacking in a way to feel, lacking in a way to be closer. Always is not right. There are times, rare. There are times when we beat as one, my heart and hers. There are times when we do the beat together. There are times when we sing. There are times when I am a king and she is my kingdom. There are times when it is good. I played guitar this morning. I played and I was pleased. I played a new ditty, the old songs where too old. I played a new ditty and felt old. I couldn't do it like I use to, the energy was different. Still my heart beat faster, and I was pleased. It was a blues riff. Nothing that anyone couldn't do. It was simple, an A,C,G,D kind of riff. But the thing that made the magick, the thing that made me proud, were the words, no not really the words. No, I think I will do a Chahena here, it wasn't the words, it was the voice. My voice singing so soulful, singing so sweetly. The A,C,G,D - song was very simple and so were the words, but it was the voice, my voice, that made it good, made it wonderful, well maybe just good for me. For a long, long, time I have been coming round Just to see your pretty. I did this all kinds of ways. I started 5 frets down. Messed with that for a while and then slid, slid, I think they call it up the frets, to the 12th. Higher here, and soulful, like an angel. And then topping the 5th and all around. For a long, long, time I have been coming round Just to see your face. But it was all a lie. It wasn't the pretty, it wasn't your face. It was the way you held me close. © 2003 big box industries It has chilled down the last couple days, and as the temperature has dropped my Holiday spirit has risen. It's Thanksgiving and I am very thankful. The charming and always enchanting Ms. Plum is coming over at 1 pm. Around 3pm, we are going over to my sister's for a family - brother, sister, folks, and me - Thanksgiving dinner. Tomorrow in the early afternoon, Plum and I, are going over to Plum's daughter's house and will be doing it all again. All this and heaven too! I love it! © 2003 big box industries Thursday, November 20, 2003
And in the night, I saw the light, of the cottage down at the end of the lane. It was a friendly light and it danced pretty. Without thinking one goes electric, everyone does. But no, it flicked and flittered, shadows danced - dancing, dancing, dancing so pretty. You know but I will tell anyway, candle light. Maybe it was something that the old eyes preferred, maybe it was something that it was used to, a comfort. Big, small, shadows dancing, dancing pretty. (There is a bit more and it isn't that bad, in brought me a little surcease, but I perhaped about later.) © 2003 big box industries Wednesday, November 19, 2003
It was very Fall today, nippish and leaves scurrying. I had been a little apprehensive that maybe the trees had forgotten how to do the leaf thing. and i fell before Fall upon my hands and knees and i fell before the splendor and the awe t'is now the dawn and already the cadence of the slow is upon us it is a slight buzz or hum that surrounds everything a rhythm that proclaims that change is in the air i will close my eyes and when i open them again all the ladies will be bare with their dresses on the ground oranges, yellows, and reds © 2003 big box industries Monday, November 17, 2003
Note that eggs are not circular but elliptical. Anyone could conjure a circle. It is one of the easier forms to beckon and manifest. But the elliptical shape of an egg exceeds the utility of a circle by a factor of 3. The elliptical shape of an egg alludes to a divine intelligence. The elliptical shape of an egg is perfect in all its aspects.  We could talk about how since eggs are elliptical and not circular they don't break as easily, it's a stress thing. Or how the distance traveled by an elliptical form differs from the distance traveled by a circular form in non metric benac space. But just watch the funny way an egg wobbles as it tries to escape from the top of your kitchen counter to the floor and you just know that lips are better. Sir Isaac Newton, in 1487, using a new math, called today the calculus, definitively proved that the mean squared difference of the elliptical shape of the egg, exactly matches the elliptical orbit of the Earth around the Sun. Who gnu? I love the sound of butter as it hits a hot pan - snarls, and snaps, snickers and snaffles. All the guys like Leah because she knows onomatopoeia. I'm a poor speller and really can't play that game too well but I try.  And then we have the magick of fire. If you heat up something hard it gets soft. If you heat up something soft it gets hard.  The bread is sour dough, buttered, with a dusting of garlic salt, and a few twists of black ground pepper.  All this and heaven too! I love it! © 2003 big box industries Sunday, November 16, 2003
And no - I am not thinking about a poet's heart or a piggy bank. © 2003 big box industries He was a big guy and he was beat. For the last 6 days, he had been making all kinds of things - shapes, and colors, and places for things to unfold in. And on the 7th day, the big guy stood before the swirling firmament, "Dammit! All I wanted was some Fresh Fish." I repeat this sometimes on Sunday. There is a metaphysic at work here. If you have ever created, made, anything, you know that there is always a lot of stuff that you throw away - not needed. Perhaps we are an after thought, or not needed at all? Perhaps it was something else, the swirl of the galaxies or the twinkle of the stars? © 2003 big box industries It happens on most blogs and when I encounter it I hate it, so I will not bore you with the n+1 details, The Apology. " I have sinned and I ask for forgiveness." " I am ashamed for I have flopkaed." And then with tired bodies and weary spirits, in the hollows of their souls they feel the sting of The Truth. "Many and many a year ago, on the 9th day of the 6th moon, on white parcement, in crimson red, a red that made the dogs bay, in the blood of the Night Hags, it was written. But it was not written so all may know, because in time this was a journey all would take. It was written because the Magick is always in the doing. It was written because we are all so Memento." "Ye may do whatever. And in this whateverness go with my blessing. There is only one thing that is ask of ye." Thou Shalt Not Flopka. Obiter dictum - As some of you may have found out, Magic Bus doesn't ride no more. And yes this makes me a little sad. Magic Bus continues to be one of the best blogs I ever read. But it happens to the best of them - too much magic bus. © 2003 big box industries Friday, November 14, 2003
I have clothes going round and round in the dryer. They are having phun in there, going round and round, with the welcoming hot heat. I can hear them sing. I can hear them singing. And do you know what they are saying? I couldn't believe it, but they are singing, like angels, like angels with wings, with wings that flutter fast, white wings, wings that sing, singing like in a voice from an angel - "All this and heaven too! And we love it." And I guess it is important to know that it is my underwear, washes with hot water, that is singing this song. © 2003 big box industries Sunday, November 09, 2003
Where did Cain get his wife? Have you ever been asked where Cain got his wife, plus all the people to build and occupy his city? The truth is that people lived to be about 900 years old, a fact supported in writings other than the Bible. Furthermore, the last 10 years have produced scientific evidence on the effects of the Vela supernova to explain how these life spans may have been possible. Given the 900-year life spans, a reproductive rate of one child every five years per couple, a reproductive period of 600 years per couple, there could have been 6,000 people on the earth by the time Adam reached age 350. By his 900th birthday there could have been 4.5 billion! Hence, Cain would have had no problem finding a wife or people to populate his city. Obviously, Cain or one of his brothers must have married a sister. These types of unions were not genetic problems, since genetic weaknesses from intermarriage would not appear until after several generations. Neither are they morally problematic, for the command against marrying close relatives did not appear until Moses' day. Abraham, you may recall, was married to his half-sister. -- Information from Reasons to Believe, P.O. Box 5978, Pasadena, CA 91117. Transgenerational Jumella & Aclima Everyone has a nodding acquaintance with Cain & Abel. Cain was the first issue of Adam and Eve, and shortly after the birth of Cain, let's say, nine months after the birth of Cain, Abel was born. Cain and Abel grow up. Cain becomes a tiller of the soil, a farmer. Abel herds sheep. Cain and Abel offer the fruits of their labor up to God in sacrifice. For reasons that are never very satisfying, the all mighty and merciful God, likes Abel's offering but finds Cain's fruit unsatisfactory. Cain gets pissed off and kills Abel with a rock. The reasons given that God in his infinite wisdom prefers Abel's offering to Cain's are at best obscure. Biblical scholars try to skirt over this issue by asserting that God just didn't like Cain's attitude. And wow, Abel wins and ends up dead. You just have to be a little suspicious that something is missing here? There is another story that is much more intellectually satisfying. According to the received doctrine of this tradition, both Cain & Abel had twin sisters. Jumella was Cain's twin sister. Aclima was Abel's twin sister. Around the time that the children were about ten or twelve, God again, in his infinite wisdom, decreed that Cain should marry Abel's twin sister, Aclima, and that Abel should marry Cain's twin sister Jumella. By this Cain could not abide. He found his twin sister, Jumella, to be the fairer of the two girls, and had very strong ties to Jumella in other ways. Adam suggests to the boys that they make a sacrifice to God and endeavor his council. Both make sacrificial offering. God stands by his original decree and finds in favor of Abel. Cain kills Abel with a rock and marries his twin sister, Jumella. Thus spoke Zaratustra © 2003 big box industries Friday, November 07, 2003
I'm a bag man. Everybody seems to know. Well it is kinda hard to hide. When I want to get a lot of attention I wear a paper bag over my head. I am partial to Kroger paper sacks. I have tried lots of others but a Kroger paper bag fits just right and has a unique fragrance. "Paper or plastic?" "Oh paper. You can see through plastic." I cheat a little when I go Krogering. I roll up the end of the bag so I can just see the ends of my feet. That way I can slowly get around without causing to much damage. But driving is still a bitch. I don't have car insurance anymore. Yeah, I have had a few accidents. I thought I had it worked out. Only bag on the expressway. You don't have to worry about turning or lights or anything. You can't bag and listen to music too loud. It helps to roll the windows all the way down. If you hear disparate car horns honking from the left - veer right. If you hear a bewildering sound from the right - try easing to the left. But as I found out last time, if you hear horns everywhere you are fucked. I'm trying to cut back on bagging, especially the driving part, but it's hard. There's something about the crinkle/crackling of new paper as I bag up that still has a hold on me. © 2003 big box industries Thursday, November 06, 2003
And He walked upon the water and this was a clue, but few gnu. And His symbol was the Fish, and fewer understood. In caverns deep, 3rd circle inner order adepts continuously chant the inverted mantra - OHHHHHHHHHHH! In the book, 7 Secrets of Highly Effective People, Secret #3 is drink more water. Sir Isaac Newton is documented to have drank 12 glasses of water a day, a glass for each month of the year. It is said he discovered gravity while taking a whiz. "It's like everything is connected by a little string." After overindulging in the secret elixir, Van GOgH, spilt some water on a fresh canvas and liked the fuzziness of the water and the paint. Instinctively, water is denied to no one. Everywhere water is given freely. Water does not judge. Water always forgives. Water welcomes all. I could get really carried away about water, like how it wow floats when it is a solid and such, but I need to get to the skinny. You celebrate The Mass of H2O daily, by taking a bath or a shower. You think that you are doing this so like dead Fish you will not stink. It is true that The Mass represents a cleansing, but not from odor. You are awash in a sea of electromagnetic waves. They are everywhere, TV, radio, wireless communication, an incessant swarm of rattle and hum. If you could put on a special pair of glasses that would allow you to see these waves it would blow your mind, hundreds, upon thousands, upon millions of waves, everywhere. These waves carry a charge and in time some of these waves stick to your body. Water is a poor conductor. When you celebrate The Mass you are free once again, water miraculously breaks the bonds between all these waves and your skin. Drink more water. The magic is in the doing. © 2003 big box industries Monday, November 03, 2003
The last couple of days have been wow, cool, cloudless blue skies, with a slight Fall hush. Yesterday, well actually it was last Friday, Plum & I went to the park on the river. We often go there to feed bread to the honk, honk, like a bicycle horn, Canadian geese. Even before we made it down the hill to the path that lazily meanders along the river, I could hear a honk here and there. The gaggle was tired of river mud and grass, they wanted some of the good stuff. As soon as we made it down to the river's meandering ways, I noticed two white splotches out in the middle of the river about 100 yards further downstream. It quickly came to mind that perhaps this white upon the river were swans. All this and heaven too! What luck. Plum & I have seen a lot of geese and several mallard ducks and a heron or two and a few hawks, but never the satorial splendor of a pair of white swans.  At first the noble swans, and they knew it, completely ignored us. But then Plum, who I sometimes call Duck Mama, finally found a way to coax the pair hither.  And the crone, with the yellow mums, told him, "What you seek is with the angels, and the winged creatures reside near the river of The White Swans." © 2003 big box industries When it comes to the New York Dolls I am almost clueless? "For $1,000,000 - name that tune?" "Fuck?"  The NYD's only claim to fame was that everyone in the group was a YY, they all had an extra Y chromesome. Not sure why they didn't go with YY as a group name? I guess Dolls was like some sort of strange double entendre. Actually I am using The Dolls to bait a hook. Fat Camera should be in your face within the next 30 days. © 2003 big box industries
|
![[Powered by Blogger]](http://buttons.blogger.com/bloggerbutton1.gif){kind=small}