In Eilot, Israel==Autumnal couple of days

We'd come back from Dahab only hrs before, showered--I extricated the hidden hashish from my ass, & felt a little lost in a homeward-kind of present. I wanted to feel linked up w/complacent reflections of the Danish girls there in the apt. They, at least 2 of the 3, were hooking...flowery still, something nice. I went out to the deck (in the dark desert sky), we were upstairs, laid my head back on the cool rain swept tile & tried to lure a Fall relevance to distance traveled & a back home revelry. The others, my friend Rob (of Red Fly Nation) from here in Lexington, our comrade a British cat about our age, & those women, were all sitting around drinking beer & wine, which didn't interest me, fever was coming on. One really striking chic from Denmark, unusually darker than the others, & I went for a walk the next day--I wanted to go by these solitarian picnic tables & watch traffic, across from the airport near the Red Sea (Yam Suf--actually the Reed Sea). I had earlier in the week seen a morbidly obese wanderer--some woman w/splitting wounds running down her ripped stockinged legs, sitting there mayhem-like. Life had motion, just being w/the Danish chic, however--there was clarity in her attention of me, presuming there was a there there. I fancied Yes, but in reality, I merely thought this out of distraction. Back the night before one of the girls--her--came up on me & pointed out my anti-sociality, then threw a pot of cold water in my face, laughed, and left me alone.

THere's nothin' really, nothin' really to turn Off

Keenan Lawler said from his Myspace, frustration or anger leads One beyond the traditional. (& in the view of the Reviewer, his was a third alternative) TicTOCteac (Lee Perry) thanx G-d for making him mad. We always conjure Order (making a distiction from those things our focus becomes delimited). We see a freshly mown lawn & say, I want it to go like That. But it is like that. But again, I want it to go like that--still it is like that!! (suburban death, is quite another idea) A child whose energy which convalesces in the mundane outside his/her provenance seems wholly possible. And maybe we all projected energy from other planets (...VU's electricity comes from other planets recognized here) Lee Scratch says the Spiritual man IS mad. But I'm certain the MF (namely reprehensible conservative jips) detailing me how he'll make my monies work for me, is as mad as a reckoning of some Absolute will make some One. And yet I am on the front lines of a battle I wage to compete w/Ego...it's all ego, yeah, but when I let go I observe just that deficit in awareness, rather than fill up w/some kind of social status--

On the way back from Canada=Toledo Ohio, in August

We stopped by the graveyard where my wife's Grandma's parents are buried--in Toledo. This is a mostly Polish graveyard--though we were there for her Hungarian grandpa & Canadian great grandparents. The Poles traditionally were extremely perversely prejudiced against Jews. (google Anomoye Potswo; their lable of an anonymous Empire--a derogatory term to explicate what little humanity they'd assumed of their Jewish neighbors) It is a reality to perceive a threat when we cohere a community still living--this relativity that Otherness is Imminent. But this part of the Polish community lies ineffective, & out of my control or forebearance. And yet I mingle head & shoulders among spirits now that their reckoning is the kind of Ultimate demise in which we all relate. They are at peace, & I solemnly care that they are. I reach to clean the gravestone, someone reaches back in reaction to a constancy I maintain from dialogue toward things here & Not-so here. I forge a People'd pantheon of relationship, and they discover a new participant to the Crowd's end-game.

Did my sentence, languished in Gehenna

I went to see Paul K & the Weathermen down on Main st., good club setting--dark dive=The Dame, actually rt across from my cuz's old loft, Red Fly Nation's practice auditorium, the band I sullenly played-in...meaning I was thick w/exclusivity then--beyond the bouyant immediacy, not as now; & also this band subject of this writing played there at a loft apt. Time. Its Irony, that of time I mean, is that all the fantastic hype of relationship w/the material void--the unassailable appearances which we seem to want to duplicate all the time, this hype has a kind of energy (maybe because it opposes our sentience)--& once we place that measure of force to be Reckoned Into a box, we see that our momentum shouldn't be consumed by it. So, here's my point: I'm standing out in the crowd, Paul absolutely throwing down, Tim no less on the kit... an exacting kind of hypostasis occurs to me. They have ever been upon the threshold of sound that conveys me, & I have ever been in the throes of ecstatic imminence watching. Just watching, like I was supposed to interpret a message from an ancient time. & Ancient times, by the way are a dime a dozen--just think for a moment that all symbols of eternity are in this Life. We know no other, & Otherness is before us as viceral-as-an-effort we'd muster to complicate the Ineffectiveness-trying-to-change-things suggests.
paul k's website is paulkweathermen.com