Awake before 9, at 11 Jehovah's Witnesses at the door, I invite them in for a chat, and I find myself launching into theological, philosophical and linguistic conversation with the two ladies. The first grey lady remained quiet, and she had a rather raw looking complexion, while the other lady who was darker and younger was born in Portugal, I discovered, and she liked to talk and converse with me on some pretty far-out subjects.
I felt that we touched on some fantastic ideas, or due to the line of conversation, about books 'the bible' texts, and speech, and 'individuals' that embody that speech, text, book? and how that can be so.
I was pleased to say that the lady had a rather pluralistic approach, and on one occasion when discussing human beings and 'spirits' she referred to us as being both at the same time.
I stated that the bible must be translated into many languages, and the difficulty's that must appear in translation, especially if the translated language is believed by some, to contain the 'words' of god, a proposed almighty creator and ultimate truth teller. Well, I proposed, surely a language closer to the signs and symbols and structures and 'sense' radiating from the bio-organic natural world of seasons, species, earth and stars, would be closer to the 'process' of that God, as I perceived him/her? And so, it follows, for me, that ideogrammic, and pictographic languages, in that they are built upon naturally poetically occurring 'forms' and 'functions' in nature, over millennia, are closer to God than alphabetic 'forms' and 'functions'. Alike mathematical 'forms and functions' alphabet seems to depend upon specific contexts and very special conditions, basically you have to be 'in the know' to grok what the feck' the symbols refer too., whereas every human being can recognize the moon, the sun, a tree, and the figure of a human being standing, sitting or bending over?
Early in the conversation, the sweet ladies did mention the 'devil' "whoops" I thought to myself at around 11.30 am, what will I say about the devil?, and it went a little something like this, but of course I am adding a little swank here, but generally I communicated my thoughts and can recast them here for you to decide how the conversation transpired.
I contended that 'the devil' could not be person, yet, the spirit of the devil could somehow infect a person, like simply having a particularly violent or self-harming thought, but where do these 'devil spirits' come from? God, genes, culture? And why do many religions personify 'Godliness and Deviliness' in human beings, when they should know better than to attach labels and terms so loaded with cultural bias and confusion to human beings, that I view as being able to 'tune into' personae, or different personality complexes, a myriad of radiant voices in synchrony singing or just humming a song of oneself. All spirits, beings and entities are out there and 'in here', or are available for those who wish to tune in. 'Tune in' to mean both; dial up your internet search engine and dial up your consciousness interacting processes. I didn't say that, I used more simple terms, but thats kind of what I meant.
I barely touched on the subject of Magick, yet throughout our conversation I realized that the methodology they may really be searching for is probably best found in the system of Magick, more or less the arts and sciences of manifesting 'reality' in conformity of will. Or about as close to direct experience, without exotic chemical aid, if you take human neuro-chemistry as not really exotic enough, that you can find, in my experience and opinion. I was going to recommend Enochian Vision Magick to the kind Jehovah's Witnesses, but I found that our freestyle speech, without really quoting sources, was not the speech/space/time to spring such a concept. But was right there, poised in mind. The space between the study of language and the study of 'spirits' where the questions of authorship and origins come up, and how to best analyze them, seems to me fully explicated in Magick, I was reminded of this while talking to the ladies.
23 Coltrane
Today (I write this at 4.00 am) was significant to me for two reasons, before the odd conversation with the Jehovah's Witnesses; I moved most but not all of my belongings out of my apartment to a new one, and the 23rd of September denotes the birthday of John Coltrane, who I view to be a grandmaster of spirit language, along with the long list musical and cultural praises to him for his innovations to be found throughout music after the fact of 'Coltrane'.
I and I and I have had a running 'Coltrane synchronicity' noted in dream journals, pre-internet, and gradually building up intensity over the years. Today,for me, was right up there in the highest intensity region, out there in stellar regions where planets explode gasses escape, congeal, and new forms... today was a day of great Unity, at least in my life, and I intersected with what I consider the heart of the matter at hand: Internet, revolution, cognitive liberty and 'the tale of the tribe', and Coltrane.
I started what turned out to be a 58 minute mix with two copies of 'spiritual' by Coltrane, followed by Lenny Bruce on the verb 'to come', 'The drum thing' chased by the map world of the Universe otherwise know as 'Giant Steps', next 'Max Roach' with his classic and new favorite of mine called 'Nommo' (the name of a tribe said to be from the Sirius star system), Sun Ra interrupts the bass solo in Nommo to unwind 'the ridiculous I and the cosmic me' from the stylus needle point, taken from the re-issued 'Antique Black' treasures, Ra and Marshall Allen tear holes inspacetime and the tempt us back to Nommo, switching to Art Blakey and Jo Jones drum duo featuring Lord Buckley mixed in by the author, in jumps Thelonious Monk with 'April In Paris' followed by Trane's ballad 'easy to remember' 'Equinox' due to the fact that the vernal equinox fell on September 23rd this year of 2010. The final tune in the mix is 'A love supreme'.
I should mention that during the recording, dedicated to and inspired by John Sinclair, he called to send good wishes, in fact it was during 'easy to remember'. I told John this, and greeted him with the news that he had cut into my 'live' Coltrane mix, and intersected with my trains of thoughts.
One hour after pressing stop on my recorder I was carrying boxes up and down stairs, moving apartment, a rather head numbing experience, seeing everything in boxes, hoping my ride would not get stopped somehow and all my shit get impounded, or some nightmare scenario, but this only lasted a while, and I was soon on the tram heading to work, leaving my new abode on the West side of Amsterdam.
Craphound.
On my feet at work, I even said to my colleague that I did not feel like I was in my own body, due to many thoughts about things associated with moving house, for the most part, but also what I viewed as the Jehovah's Coltrane Synchronicity, in my mixed up swirl of thoughts, smoke and peach juice. I think this was some feedback from what was about to transpire.
Around nine O'Clock things had calmed down a little at the cafe' after a slight surge of visitors probably due to the brief rain showers, but inside the cafe' things, to mean almost everything in my reality complex, changed, and changed utterly, at first the I-tunes juke box started playing up and spitting out the same few tunes over and over again, 'Mud Club and My Guitar wants to Kill your mama, both by Frank Zappa'. Then the lights start to flicker ever so slightly, like they do if you turn the dimmer dial too far up, but no one was near the light switches. The coffee shop cat started to 'meeow' and chatter his teeth while rolling on his back, something he never does like that.
A plume of smoke rushed through the door like a funnel or bundle of smoke, and then outside the planet saturn with its tell tale rings and autumn colors hung right there just outside the front doors of the cafe, beaming through the doors the cluster of swirling lights approached my counter, I stood in amazement before the wonder and pinched myself.
"Oh, sorry" I said to the elderly French couple who were waving a ten euro note in front of my nose wanting to pay for their cake and mixed cigarette, "for a minute I thought I was inside a computer game, and you were not really here at all, at all, your and 'I' was a fiction, a kind of sequence to a dream, Oh, please excuse me". I felt a pressure on the right side of my forehead and that kind of slight muscle twitch you get sometimes.
The cluster of bright lights spoke and as it did so all the lights in the cafe' went out, the computer kicked off with a whizz bang, and the cat went silent. Minds merged and direct transmission began between beings and objects, a unity wave passed through the shop, the people and the chairs and tables, all things whirling and waltzing the dance of maya. The letters from the posters on the wall left the frames and drifted off the wall onto the floor and seemingly all over the place. Tiny elf chemists danced on the tabletop, turning pencils into roll-out projector screens that mice could carry. The ashtrays all began to melt into intricate wheels and cogs, slowly turning against the brown and gold brass light frames.
Table mats folded and shaped themselves into thousands of tessellation's, grids, maps, calendars, puzzles, origami games and yet still functional drinks mats. The water taps unhooked themselves and re-rooted their ways up and out the cafe' the rooftop where fresh rainwater could be gathered. I looked up and the ceiling and gone, removed, missing and replaced by a remarkable labyrinth of Escher like tessellation, but in fact you have a complete scale stretched model map of the Universe according to Hubble, thanks to sensible planning between photographic arts and tailor made printing.
Somebody reached for a lightbulb and ate it like it was a peach, it dripped like a peach and the young girl seemed to be loving it, and had an amber glow like that of the peach after eating,beaming with extra amber alabaster lights and shade foot stealth.
Today, I met the author and journalist Cory Doctorow at my workplace, and turned him onto some cutting edge media, and still held a pleasant and jolly conversation with him, who i view to be one of greatest active minds of our time. I had read his book 'makers' just a half of a year ago and became inspired by said book and of course, the work he does on behalf of EFF, and beyond. A personal hero, and the last person I was expecting to walk into my work place on Septermber 23rd. best wishes, steve
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