Symbolic Stuff Nobody Gives a Crap About

This is one of ours.



I like this trailer better. The stitches tape is getting pretty itchy.

 
Last edited by a moderator:
I hope that when Morrissey reads articles like this then browses my various posts alluding to our mystical union, that he knows my version is steeped in metaphor and in the spirit of symbolic inspection of the layers of pop culture that weave a basket with the layers of ancient gnostic mysticism which totally doesn't sound crazy at all like this guy. :straightface: In short I hope he knows I'm being an adventurer instead of a victim in the realm of imagination and that I'm really f***ing shy and not stalker material and I have a busy life in real life...apart from my rigorous masturbation schedule.
 
Last edited:
Do any other ghost listeners get messages like this all day on disaster days? The spirit often hides in jokes.

14675868291_f159fe22a4_z.jpg
 
My chest has a thousand souls trapped in it. It's like God stuck a Clearance Sale! sign on my heart and the souls rushed it. I have a pretty high tolerance of pain but I gotta get a tool to help. :(
 
Jon checked in to Yoshinoya saying he was getting the best fish tacos in town. Yoshinoya is where you park when you're going to Sam's Hoffbrau. :straightface:
 
Ever since I was a baby (and before) my dad has had a hook bill of one sort or another. Mostly cockatoos. We had a macaw for a few years. Various parrots. A lot of the birds overlapped. There never was NOT a bird in the house my entire life. Pretty much always a cockatoo. So the routine was when everyone was away at school and work, the birds stayed in their cage. But starting in the afternoon when I came home first from school, I'd let them out. THen my dad would come home and take over. THey sat on our shoulders as we ate dinner and watched the news then watched sitcoms all night, we'd take turns with them, petting them, helping them groom their new feathers. Then at bedtime after the late night talk shows they'd go back in their cages until the next afternoon when I'd let them out after school. On the weekend they stayed out all day. In short I grew up with hookbill brothers and sisters, they become VERY MUCH a part of the family. For people who don't get birds, they're extremely intelligent and sensitive and cuddly. They have hot feet and warm bodies that radiate where they perch. THey love routine. They can be extremely destructive when their needs aren't being met. Many pet birds suffer in a cage their whole lives alone and untouched because often they are impulse purchases and people don't understand they have human life spans and often very specific needs. My dad's cockatoo is a year younger than me.

14681652585_f6af3aaa01_z.jpg


Watching Jink has been a pleasant trip back to my childhood. When I left for college I had my first dog Al to care for. (They're building a Catholic Church in the field I saved him in. :cool:) He was an 18 year commitment. After he passed away I had an inkling to get my first bird, but I went for a song bird and they are not affectionate like hookbills, you can't pet them and put them on your shoulder. Jink and I watched two hours of TV tonight. He likes to get up close to your face and lean against it, then he'd crawl down to my arm and nuzzle into the crook of it. He's a gentle little thing. He's missing parts of his toes, my dad's always making up wild theories how he lost them in his previous life, we'll never know. I'm glad he rescued him, (some canyon resident found him starving in a tree and proceeded to not know how to take care of him and one of her friends knew my dad and made the transaction happen.) He's a real sweetheart.

The tenses and direction in this post are all wackadoo because I'm having brainfade. :p
 
Last edited:
I beat Moloch. Many times. :cool:
 
I'm Not a Man always makes me smile because all I hear is Baby screaming at the end. The song in my brain ends hearing my dad yell, "BABY! SHUT UP!!!" It sounds identical to a cockatoo screaming for attention.
 
"You're the stretch of the beach the tide doesn't reach" is fascinating to me. It makes me think Kick the Bride is about The False Bride. Everyone knows the sun is the man and the moon is the woman. The moon controls the tide. So if the bride in the song is the stretch of beach the tide doesn't reach, she's not truly "lunar," she's like a zombie bride which might explain the kicking.

Googling false bride looking for another article, I found this interesting link to a song published in 1959 called "The False Bride" published in a Penguin Book Of English Songs which is sort of like Kick the Bride AND Oboe Concerto in summation.

http://www.justanothertune.com/html/ilal.html

I once loved a lass, and I loved her sae weel
I hated all others that spoke of her ill;
But noo she's rewarded me weel for my love,
For she's gaun to be wed till anither.

When I saw my love to the church go,
Wi' bride and bride-maidens, they made a fine show;
An' l followed them on wi' a heart fu' o' woe,
For she's gaun to be wed till anither.

When I saw my love sit down to dine,
I sat down beside her and poured out the wine,
An' I drank to the lass that should ha'e been mine,
An' now she is wed till anither.

The men o' yon forest they askit o' me,
Hou many strawberries grew in the saut sea?
But I askit them back wi' a tear in my ee',
How many ships sail in the forest?

O dig me a grave and dig it sae deep,
An' cover it over with flow'rets säe sweet,
An' I'll turn in for to tak' a lang sleep,
An' may be in time I'll forget her.

They dug him a grave an' they dug it sae deep,
An' covered it over with flow'rets säe sweet,
An' he's turned in for to tak' a lang sleep,
An' maybe by this time he's forgot her.

I'll try to find that other article on False Brides. Sometimes it seems like he's singing from the perspective of empathizing with her and then hating her. It's a challenging song. I have some other ideas.
 
"You're the stretch of the beach the tide doesn't reach" is fascinating to me. It makes me think Kick the Bride is about The False Bride. Everyone knows the sun is the man and the moon is the woman. The moon controls the tide. So if the bride in the song is the stretch of beach the tide doesn't reach, she's not truly "lunar," she's like a zombie bride which might explain the kicking.

Googling false bride looking for another article, I found this interesting link to a song published in 1959 called "The False Bride" published in a Penguin Book Of English Songs which is sort of like Kick the Bride AND Oboe Concerto in summation.

http://www.justanothertune.com/html/ilal.html

I once loved a lass, and I loved her sae weel
I hated all others that spoke of her ill;
But noo she's rewarded me weel for my love,
For she's gaun to be wed till anither.

When I saw my love to the church go,
Wi' bride and bride-maidens, they made a fine show;
An' l followed them on wi' a heart fu' o' woe,
For she's gaun to be wed till anither.

When I saw my love sit down to dine,
I sat down beside her and poured out the wine,
An' I drank to the lass that should ha'e been mine,
An' now she is wed till anither.

The men o' yon forest they askit o' me,
Hou many strawberries grew in the saut sea?
But I askit them back wi' a tear in my ee',
How many ships sail in the forest?

O dig me a grave and dig it sae deep,
An' cover it over with flow'rets säe sweet,
An' I'll turn in for to tak' a lang sleep,
An' may be in time I'll forget her.

They dug him a grave an' they dug it sae deep,
An' covered it over with flow'rets säe sweet,
An' he's turned in for to tak' a lang sleep,
An' maybe by this time he's forgot her.

I'll try to find that other article on False Brides. Sometimes it seems like he's singing from the perspective of empathizing with her and then hating her. It's a challenging song. I have some other ideas.

Yes- that verse does seem out of place and obviously it's there for a reason- so, what does it mean? I love the funeral dirge intro and outro. It's very nearly my favorite song on the album.
 
Yes- that verse does seem out of place and obviously it's there for a reason- so, what does it mean? I love the funeral dirge intro and outro. It's very nearly my favorite song on the album.

I'm working on it.
 
Facebook has alerted me that two of my friends are listening to U2 this morning. Drink water. Also I am the concentration hero this morning because I plunged a shit-filled toilet while hungtastic and didn't hurl. I'll sign your autograph book later. :D
 
March, April and May are Spring. A spring alludes to the Devil because a spring is 666 atop each other like so.

14514556197_d4592968f8.jpg


So the school she's cramming for is, in my opinion, something along the lines of Thelema but not quite. The Rosicrucians are a fraternal order, the pressure from men old and young to get three A's aligns more with Orders and Rites. The pressure to Solve et Coagula.

L7T3D00Z.jpg


OW writes,

The magical process consists in effect in coagulating the Astral Light, that is to say, the phosphorescent atmosphere which envelopes the planet, thanks to the action of it's central fire. Living creatures swarm in the heart of this diffuse light which illumines their instinct. By borrowing the left arm of Baphomet, we can draw towards us the surrounding and invisibly vaporized vitality and condense it into mist which is more or less opaque in its flourescence. It is "coagulation" which operates to the advantages of the phallus as is indicated by the Hindu symbol of the union of the sexes, which the Devil raises in his left hand.

The coagulated fluid "charges" the operator like an electric battery; but no effect is produced as long as there is no "discharge" otherwise known as "solution" (otherwise known as...you know) At this point intervenes the right arm bearer of the burning torch of Baphomet; this image of fierce flames is to be feared. (Ever had all your modifiers tied to a plane crash? Then you'll know.) To avoid the explosion which upsets and throws one into a panic, dazes and risks unleashing the madness, one must pick up the current which the gradual flow of accumulated fluid causes. A skilled magnetism utilizes this current by an intelligent application of the formula, Coagula, Solve.

So the father and boyfriend want her to "pick up the current which the gradual flow of accumulated fluid causes" and get three A's.

Triple A ==> TRI PLAY ==> TYR PLAY

Tyr is God, simply. They want her to listen to God. They want her to be Jesus.
 
I got a text yesterday from someone in London telling me his phone number. Knowing nobody in London I thought shit was getting real for half a second. Silly Amie. Shit doesn't get real. It was my neighbor on vacation. :rolleyes: I wonder if I should tell him his housesitter hasn't been here the whole time he's been gone.

At the end of the day I look like Fed to everyone.

Fed bought five bags of peanuts in the shell this week at eighty some dollars a bag, not just because it was fun buying them — he's a compulsive shopper who sneaks much of what he buys into the house or garage when the neighbors aren't looking — but because if the situation in Israel gets any worse, things could get really bad here. The people at Atascadero Hay and Feed have learned to keep a strait face when he explains things. He sort of tips them off, if you know what I mean. Of course, he expects them to keep everything under their hat. They should buy all the peanuts they have room for in their warehouse, because they could end up being worth a fortune. If things get worse in Israel, it could impact on the delivery of peanuts, and what would people use to replace them? Peanuts and outdated cat food. He'll be on Bloomberg soon. The man who saw it coming. The mystic of Atascadero. The grand master magician. Right now he's drinking wine, watching television, trying to channel his next discovery.
 
Talking about the occult without sounding crazy is an impossible thing to do. Alan Watts did it, but a lot of people thought he was crazy. Titus Birckhardt did it elegantly, but he established a background of being a published comparative religion aficianado before delving into the occult, he was a philosopher more than a mystic. I think the combination of me being a "fan" and talking about the occult in relation to my object d'amour is what does my sanity reputation in. It looks odd that I'm ogling a tshirt he's wearing on one page then analyzing his channeling of Hermes Trismegistus on another. Some day I'll move on and go away.
 
This is a dark day. :tears: In addition to being stuck in a hell loop of sign seeing, I'm IN REALITY making plans to spend time with someone who has been very cruel to me in an effort to battle my demons and be the better person.
 
It's like being punched in the face and WHILE being punched in the face, having to explain the physics of how punching works. :straightface: You have no idea how dark this could get. God help us.
 
Evan used to (and still does) take anthologies of short stories that are collections (surprisingly often) of 22 stories and assign a tarot card to each from the major arcana thinking that the editor of the collection was a secret Tarot studier and grouped them together on purpose. But is where I think Evan's studies went horribly wrong. I maintain that often (and there could be a select school of people who knowingly do this out of the Iowa Writer's Workshop, but it seems like a stretch to me. Though in his defense rarely is a mind baby born without at least a few stretch marks.) the reason things are grouped the way they are is because GOD slips into our brains and groups them so. He's doing his filing and paperwork through our stories and songs and artwork. So WPINOYB (or BOY W PEN talking to GOD on the cover) is comprised of 12 songs. I think each song represents a seat at the table of the Last Supper, and after some careful analysis, each song represents a card that can tell us more about each of the apostles. Staircase is Mary/Jon. Kick the Bride is Judas. etc.. FIRST each song should be assigned a card, the attributes of the cards help to align with the stories and plight of each apostle. I'm working now on Mountjoy which is definitely The Star. Anyway, it's hard for me to jump into the bonus songs without examining the initial 12 songs that God decided comprised one album/picture/hidden story. Since there's 12 apostles and thirteen people at the table, it's possible the bonus tracks are all Jesus's songs. The topics discussed at the table is none of our business because I think most Christians wouldn't want to know. It's hard to describe.

1280px-Última_Cena_-_Da_Vinci_5.jpg
 
Last edited:
oswald-wirth-tarot-17-les-etoiles-the-stars.jpg


OW sums up les Etoiles better than I can but I'll link it to Mountjoy after...

In our thirst for individual existence and autonomy, we have cut ourselves off from the universal life of the Great Being of whom we continue to be part. We live in him, but not the life that is particular to him, since we are content with our narrow life, limited to the sphere of our sensations. What those sensations reveal is infinitesimal compared with the unfathomable and unknown which surrounds us. We are plunged in a dark night, but when we cast our glances towards the sky, we see the Stars shining brightly.

These lights above encourage us and make us feel that we are not abandoned, since what the gods originally called 'the shining ones' watch over us. They direct us with the aim of our fulfilling our destiny, for we have a task in our limited life, no one being created without his destiny being traced in its broad outlines, without its aim being assigned to the earthly traveller. A mysterious roadmap marks the essential stages of our pilgrimage, as if the court of justice of the Anounnaki had made a decree on our account by fixing our destiny.

If we followed our program faithfully, life would be what it should be for us. We complicate it by our intractability which awards us the hardships of which we complain; life is not cruel in principle, but it's aim is not our pleasure: it has it's task ans asks us to accomplish ours. She is a gentle and loving goddess like the naked girl in arcana 17 who, kneeling at the edge of a pond pours into it the contents of a golden urn from which flows a burning liquid to give life to stagnant water. To this vessel held in the right hand corresponds another which the left hand is tipping up to pour out onto the arid earth a fresh and fertilizing water. This second receptacle is silver; like the first it is inexhaustible. The constant watering supports the vegetation, represented more exactly by a branch of acacia and a rose in bloom.

[...]

But the dawn of comprehension which is reserved for the Initiated does not yet dispel the darkness of human intellectuality, although we can see the stars of our night sky pale before the brilliance of one of them, Lucifer, the Light-bearer, otherwise known as Venus or the star of the morning. This heavenly body is the great star of arcana 17 which sends forth green lights between it's eight golden rays. The color of Venus thus matched the octagon of Ishtar, the Goddess par excellence of the Chaldeans. Theese people made stars divine, so that in their primitive writing the ideofram * is read as 'god.' This sign was maintained by Assyrians as a definite article to the divine names that it preceeds; but the star with eight rays remained the sacred emblem of Ishtar, a popular divinity, the recipient of the most fervent devotion of mortals. How could it have been otherwise, since humans believe that they owed their life to the tender and generous Ishtar? An enchantress, she inspires souls with the desire to take bodily form. (Zombies) Her charms lead us to become flesh in order to enjoy the charms of earthly life, by agreeing to face the trialswhich she imposes, for Ishtar demands of her followers the courage to live; she wants them to approach courageously the struggle for existence. Her rewards go to those who deserve them, to the energetic, not to the indolent who are greedy to enjoy without exerting themselves. Moreover, she offers to each one the joys which he is capable of appreciating: to the common mass, the animal pleasures of the moment, to the refined the highest and most delightful satisfactions that last. The elect of Ishtar become divine by rising above matter in order to love in a divine way. (In alchemy that's called 'loosening' where the spirit separates from the body and bonds cosmically with it's soulmate, it's a whooosh you fell sometimes dipping into sleep after little death.)

Let us note that Ishtar is double; a warrior in the morning and langourous in the evening. An early riser, she awakens the sleeping, shakes off their torpor and incites us into a Lucifer-like rebellion against the tyranny of ruling dogmas. At dusk the star of Ishtar reappears in the red light of sunset.Her light then is of a soft, peaceful whiteness. The tired man looks at it with gratitude; it seems to him that the goddess is summoning him to deserved rest, to expressions of tenderness and serene meditations. Is she not the revealer in the beauty of things? At this hour the poet no longer see in her the impetuous lover, frightening with the violence of her passions, this Ishtar whose advances are rejected by the wise Guilgames; no, the goddess has become Sidouri, the chaste guardian of a closed paradise which overlooks the western sea; the sea breeze fondles it's trees which bear no other fruit than precious ones. The young maid in arcana 17, she, too, seems to be an incarnation of the great feminine divinity whom our distant ancestors have adored. She is the personification of earthly life in what is winning and charming about it; she is kind Nature, merciful and beautiful, the mother who is eternally young, who becomes the lover of the living.

This earthly life, which we love more than anything in spite of the material slavery to which it binds us, leaves us plunged in a darkness which would be complete if it were not for the stars in the firmament. These stars symbolize the obscure light from which the humble in their spiritual aspirations benefit. The children of nature turn towards the ideal with spontaneous piety which comforts them in their aim of accomplishing their earthly task. Sanctifying what pertains to life, they make this life divine. Would that we could appreciate the sound beauty of their religious conception, truer in it's simplicity than our ambitious systems, complicated by disturbing metaphysics.

The stars of arcana 17 number eight which leads us to arcana 8 (Justice), in other words to the Intelligence which coordinates nature actions and reactions. [...]

Okay. The Joy, I believe, is a metaphor for the prison of reading people. The voice of the song was sent to The Joy (or to the state of reading people) by a three foot half-wit in a wig. The goddess by the pond kneeling is about three feet tall. She's like the cosmic judge who condemns those feisty enough to follow through on her tasks (protecting animals) on a physical plane which bodiless she isn't capable of working. In a way she is the voice's boss. In this song he is reporting to her what he sees on earth, that humans hate each other given the chance, that we keep secrets because nobody cares, etc.. The only thing that stirs emotion in the voice is when he looks to the sky and sees his star, his cosmic lover in the faces of strangers, the goddess who though has condemned him to a fate of reading and feeling intense emotion, he loves as she is the only entity that brings him comfort since he trusts none of the humans. The star emenates GREEN light, Green language, language of the birds that he communicates to her with. (But not often beyond the comfort of the bedroom.) We all lose could be expanded to explain some alchemy, releasing the spirit. Rich or poor could be a reference to her pouring the silver and gold discussed in depth but not quoted. Joy is bird for Joey or Joe which is coffee or kefe, the spirit. The spirit brings you things but it cannot bring you happiness. It's a lament of forever loving ghosts perhaps echoing the sentiment of 'Why did you give me so much love in a loveless world when there is no one I can turn to to unlock all this love..'

I'm still working on it, but Mountjoy aligns with no other card than loosely with Justice as mentioned in the "awful lawfully good" line.

I am a queer fellow.
 
Last edited:
Back
Top Bottom