God as Cosmic Ringmaster.

All technology is either based on the human body, or it is an extension of it. Tag, we are it. We are the- be all and the end all -of the whole affair; the crown of creation and sometimes it does seem that, “we got no place to go.” I am hopeful that we all will “soon find the ability you strive for.”

When the world measures a man or a woman by their apparent spirituality, when a picture is given of what that person ‘should be’ it often seems that the character is an unctuous, odious, sanctimonious, false humility playing- genuflecting fool. Spiritual people can’t be sexual, contain any Elvis, curse occasionally; ever take drugs or hit the clubs.

It does seem that a spiritual; or am I thinking religious? – personality- can kiss the ass of temporal power and hobnob with anyone as long as they are powerful; the poor make for good photo ops though. There’s nothing like a white missionary in a Banana Republic safari suit holding a black child with a distended belly and flies on its eyes to get the heart moving.

An acceptable religious figure should exhort the congregation to perform abstinence, go to church and support any demagogue who supports, at least in talk, the dogmas that the church subscribes to as a means for controlling the flock. It’s okay for this religious figure to dress in Armani and wear Rolexes and phony news anchor hair. It’s sane for these religious figures to squat before the tube or on various stages and talk about long distance healing, dance around like they have fire ants in their jockeys and do any form of Royal Order of the Platypus glossolalia. It’s okay.

It’s not okay for religious figures to oppose spurious wars, march for civil rights, speak out against materialism, tell the real truth or anything that runs counter to market forces and the bottom line. There seems to be something wrong with this picture but maybe that’s just me.

I have to use myself as an example because that is where I experience life. I don’t know if I am a spiritual person but I do know I have such aspirations. I’ve not set myself up as an example of such and usually run away from being identified as such or allow others to make me into such. It doesn’t feel right. In the process of writing on the things that I do I often encounter certain criticisms from certain circles who maintain that my lifestyle is not an example of what I talk about. Usually it centers on drug use, strength of language or the nature of the things I oppose.

Seekers have for centuries used drugs to open the doors of perception. There are those who believe that St. John of Patmos was on mushrooms as a precursor to Revelations; re- The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross. Of course, it is always best to go au natural. It’s not as easy these days as it once was due to the omnipresence of materialism and the herd mind noise factor; so some of us, for whatever reason, have found it necessary to blow the carbon out of the pipes. Well I did more than that. I took everything to excess and went in both directions looking for the same thing. I have also paid significantly for my behavior.

The fact is though that I don’t take anything anymore. The thrill is gone and besides, I’ve found another groove and it just works better. My real problem is that I tell the truth. Now it may not be the whole truth and it’s certainly not the sundering of Heaven and Earth unpronounceable name of God truth but it is definitely and certainly more the truth than the guys in the safari suits, the politicians, the new age swami’s or the forum pundits whose real annoyance is that they are suffering from a lack of attention for their boring, pseudo-intellectual, self-serving drivel. They’ve got no Elvis. They’ve got Barry (sweet-n-low) Manilow on Prozac.

When one is in the truth business and does no business; when one is more about the waters of life freely given; when one is not shy about shining and prolific in product, flashy in imagined raiment, or just generally doing a Salvador Dali sort of thing in their exuberance over the raining down of the great spirit, the crows and clerks go ballistic.

Sometimes in annoyance, said madman of the wider Nile may even be provoked to the occasional “fuck you.” a moment of bullfighting with a scalpel; or even an origami-sashimi filleting of slow fish in plastic barrels. Such a person causes no end of confusion and fear due to an unpredictable nature. It’s okay so long as he is ignored or generally reviled; a figure of sport and fun-making; something to make the fat guys in suits laugh over cocktails and hookers. It becomes a problem when even the marginally dis-enfranchised listen to him. He’s not under control. He’s not under contract. You can’t scare him with the loss of what he doesn’t care about and you can’t threaten him with what it isn’t in your power to modify or end.

Anyone who doesn’t think god is involved in show business has never seen a sunset, a storm at sea, a rainbow, a peacock, a jungle, a mountain range or the desert by moonlight. Such a person cannot hear Chopin playing over the rocks of a running stream. Such a person cannot trace the origin of great art; wouldn’t know it if he was bitch-slapped with a Rembrandt. Some of these people will puzzle over a spilled dumpster at MOMA and boogie down to Madonna; but there is no accounting for taste.

God is a cosmic ringmaster. God is a carnival barker. God disappears round the corner forever and is always appearing around the bend. I’ve been round the bend more than once so I would know. God is a dancer and the Tandava is quite a dance. God is certainly a painter and only a musician could come up with the music of the spheres. Though God accomplishes a never ending miracle in nature; nature unaided always fails and that is where we come in. We’re all in show business too; how else to account for all the bad actors? How else could God be expressed except through us? If God gives us talents it must be for a reason. Raising them to the heights through discipline, imagination and, most of all, inspiration is our job one. Perverting them is an option but, there you go.

We are all works in progress. Not one of us has attained perfection. We’re working on that. Some of us aren’t working very hard but we want the accolades none the less. Today there is an effort abroad under the guidance of that neo-fascist movement- Political Correctness to praise every thing and every effort. We are apparently all great artists now.

God has been described as a potter... and what a potter! But every child working with clay is not producing art, just working in that direction. Celebrating mediocrity is missing the point of the exercise. If you want to see what is defined as evil you have only to look at what is celebrated as good pottery. Crime and war are a form of pottery, so are embarrassing fashion shows of bad designs by men who hate women, so are Macy’s Day parades and Oktoberfests, hula hoops, dust magnets, sitcoms and porto-pottys; but are they the ultimate goal of the potter’s art? We are a world of clumsy potters playing God. We are a world of artists who refuse to learn to draw. The same can be said in every area of creation. Somewhere in the mix, motive, intention and what well we draw from will determine our final result.

Everywhere around us we see the effects of everyone’s idea of beauty in competition with everyone else. A million musicians are playing a different song at the same time. The struggle for life witnessed in nature is mirrored in every realm. Everything is eating everything else; shoving and pushing are a universal sport and the reason God gave you two hands was to grab whatever you want. You get the picture.

Whether any artist successfully accomplishes a channeled act of divinity is for history to decide and to declare. I believe (if it’s any good) nature proclaims it and God smiles on it ........ But we won’t know till we get there.

Spirituality isn’t an act and shouldn’t be judged as one. In the final analysis only God can judge it; that’s his field.