|
922
Dec 23, 2016 22:41:37 GMT -5
Post by Will on Dec 23, 2016 22:41:37 GMT -5
So snug he was in his hotel premises sumptuous But soon we'll bonfire all his trash, tricks and trumpery--Finnegans Wake
You know Trump had to be in there somewhere, the word Trump is actually found quite a few times, good luck deciphering it though...
|
|
|
922
Jan 14, 2017 22:52:43 GMT -5
Post by Will on Jan 14, 2017 22:52:43 GMT -5
The book is fiction, but it happened.
|
|
|
922
Jan 18, 2017 1:54:35 GMT -5
Post by Will on Jan 18, 2017 1:54:35 GMT -5
Ziggy played guitar, jammin' good with Weird and Gilly, The spiders from Mars, he played it left hand But made it too far Became the special man
...
Ziggy played for time, jiving us that we was voodoo The kids was just crass. He was the nazz With God-given ass He took it all too far, but boy could he play guitar
|
|
|
922
Feb 8, 2017 2:00:25 GMT -5
Post by Will on Feb 8, 2017 2:00:25 GMT -5
Pink Floyd – High Hopes
Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young In a world of magnets and miracles Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary The ringing of the division bell had begun
Along the Long Road and on down the Causeway Do they still meet there by the Cut
There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps Running before times took our dreams away Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground To a life consumed by slow decay
The grass was greener The light was brighter When friends surrounded The nights of wonder
Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again Dragged by the force of some inner tide At a higher altitude with flag unfurled We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world
Encumbered forever by desire and ambition There's a hunger still unsatisfied Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon Though down this road we've been so many times
The grass was greener The light was brighter The taste was sweeter The nights of wonder With friends surrounded The dawn mist glowing The water flowing The endless river
|
|
|
922
Feb 15, 2017 19:33:36 GMT -5
Post by Will on Feb 15, 2017 19:33:36 GMT -5
"Perhaps we are at the end of the beginning."
|
|
|
922
Feb 16, 2017 0:54:25 GMT -5
Post by Will on Feb 16, 2017 0:54:25 GMT -5
John Mayer, 2007 -- The Beatles: I've missed too many episodes to follow the plot.
|
|
|
922
Apr 21, 2017 5:27:36 GMT -5
Post by Will on Apr 21, 2017 5:27:36 GMT -5
Another excerpt, I'm only going to leave this one up for a couple of days though...
------------------
Then one day a guy e-mails me on YouTube and basically tells me my channel is evil, and gave me all of the same arguments I heard when I was a kid, backwards messages and all of that. I looked at the e-mail, half surprised he didn't call me Paco.
I walked around outside and thought about it; I didn't buy into any of this anymore, the PMRC in the eighties turned out to be a caricature of any serious treatment of Rock, "look at the building, burn, burn" and all of that. Zappa had made them look absurd. Heavy Metal deliberately put all of this stuff out there sure, but it was cartoonish, a demon action figure at Target, nothing anyone ever took seriously and that had been true for 30 years.
I certainly didn't take it seriously, I knew how important music was, even though I felt I had to avoid certain songs now out of respect it was still as important as anything in my life and I didn't see anything evil in any of it. You don't like something being said in a song, don't do that thing. I mean that was my world, music was nothing compared to what I listened to 100 times a day in my head, and it would have scared the hell out of anyone if they had to contend with the real thing.
CCM had evolved, Plumb certainly was competitive with anyone, Rock and Roll still ruled but unfortunately it now seemed to be dying. No power chords, no darkness in the riffs, it was turning into a bunch of stuff Donny and Marie would have turned down, rock music had much deeper problems than being evil, it was becoming irrelevant.
No, there was nothing to this.
Well, I responded to this guy and told him three things. That I thought all of the messages in music were simply marketing, there was no actual evil in the songs themselves; but if he wanted to really pursue something evil in rock he should look at the deaths of Elvis, John Lennon and John Bonham; which immortalized the biggest artists of the 50's, 60's and 70's in a span of 3 years.
Really I have no idea why I said what I did, it just popped into my head.
I sent the e-mail and 10 minutes later Michael Jackson, arguably the biggest star of the eighties, goes into cardiac arrest. He didn't make it through the afternoon, but instantaneously this resuscitated his legacy. I was quite the prophet in this case apparently, and I had absolutely no idea why I had said what I did, I'd never really thought about it before that morning.
I was stunned, even with everything that had happened I didn't believe there was any possible way that I could send an e-mail and cause something to happen to Michael Jackson, that seemed to be something beyond what I was willing to accept in my mind. I walked on the beach and stewed about it, how could this happen?
I couldn't figure it out, but then Little Paul said something to me, and these days he not only wasn't in charge he didn't talk much anymore, and more troubling was I wasn't sure how he knew what he said to me.
He said, "you're seeing this all backwards."
As soon as he said it, I understood what he meant and that answer to me was too far out, it was the point where I almost walked away from any notion of the supernatural or demonology for good. What he meant was, that someone knew what going to happen to Michael Jackson before it did, and baited my response.
I may have lost you on that one, and as I processed it I almost lost myself. That can't be. I may believe in demonology, may believe that there is a good vs evil war that I somehow found myself in the middle of, that people and trucks and events may be scripted, but I didn't believe in ghosts, I didn't believe in space aliens, in a lot of ways I was still quite normal, and I just didn't believe there was some sort of supernatural force out there that knew who was going to die before they did and gave people clues to that. I'd have been bowing down worshiping demons to get lottery numbers if I thought that was going on.
But the seed had been planted and now I was thinking about it, going to the Bible in my head and working it out. And I suddenly realized of course, Satan knew what was going to happen to Job's family before it did, he had permission to cause it. He knew what was going to happen to Jesus, after all he knew why he had possessed Judas, right? God knew that everyone was going to die in a flood before he told Noah to build a boat obviously, now this made perfect sense. It didn't mean it happened every time, because that took free will out of the equation, but the point is that it COULD happen.
And then I started thinking about another Bible verse, one that I had only applied to myself. Romans 9:22. The verse that talks about Objects of Wrath and Destruction. Romans 9 is the chapter that talks about God hating people. The chapter that most people can never actually ascribe to God.
It was all too easy for me, that was the entire point after all, while a Christian I felt that I had some sort of demonic horde attack me, and God most certainly had to be watching this whole thing go on, after all it was God that Little Paul flipped off that afternoon when that car suddenly came out of nowhere and forced him to the other side of the highway, at that point it was complete and total terror, so yes God does hate people if he wants. Its just that because of all of his other restrictions, he just hands those people over to demons, watches them do all the dirty work.
Michael Jackson had died on June 25th, exactly 6 months from Christmas; the same date that Rosemary's Baby Adrian was born in the movie. Maybe Romans 9:22 applied to him for some reason. I kept walking around the beach, kept thinking about it.
I had said in the e-mail to look at Elvis, to look at John Bonham of Led Zeppelin, John Lennon of the Beatles. The biggest artists of the fifties, sixties and seventies, all immortalized in 3 years. Elvis couldn't go on without Elvis of course, Led Zeppelin had broken up after Bonham's death, the Beatles had been broken up but after Lennon's death would never reunite.
Eventually I went back inside, I've got access to the internet of course I could look this up. The most interesting thing I found with Michael Jackson was simply the way public opinion about him immediately changed; he had gone from a comical figure back into the hero he had been in the early eighties in a matter of hours. I wasn't sure necessarily what I was looking for, but I didn't see anything else.
Then I looked at Elvis, the beginning of Rock and Roll. It was sort of interesting I guess that he died on the same date as Robert Johnson, who supposedly made a deal with the devil at the Crossroads way back when, but I didn't see a whole lot else, what exactly am I looking for here?
I did that for a few days, at least I had found something interesting to do; the YouTube guy never wrote me back even though I was really interested in his reaction to what I had written and what had then happened, I never heard back from the guy; then I moved onto John Bonham and Led Zeppelin.
We all knew about Jimmy Page and the occult, that was low hanging fruit, this was where I expected to see something, yeah Stairway to Heaven says stuff backwards, we all know that too. I really didn't see anything about John Bonham himself, I guess the most interesting thing that seemed to happen was the bad luck that Robert Plant had in 1975 and 1977 with the car accident and his son's death.
That seemed a little suspicious I guess, seemed like he had been targeted a little and was interesting to me also because I knew that he had a problem with Stairway to Heaven, didn't like to do the song anymore, did he think something was happening to him? I don't know, nothing seemed to happen after '77 until Bonham's death and then he had a very successful solo career. I didn't really feel like I was seeing whatever it was I was looking for; I was looking for the sort of stuff I had dealt with I guess, something more profound.
Then, somewhat reluctantly, I looked at John Lennon. In my mind, this was the least likely place to find anything, and I really didn't want to go there. The Beatles were innocence, they were Little Paul territory, looking at the Beatles to me was kind of like looking at the Beach Boys, why would you want to mess with that? A little boy's innocence, an entire generation's innocence really. It was like the Amish kids dying in Lancaster, territory that should be off-limits and better left alone. I had written it though, so I'd better check the Beatles out too I reckoned, so I googled The Beatles.
Oh my fucking God.
----------
I had been dealing with this demonology for 6 years or so, it was built into what was left of my mind, I knew what I was seeing as soon as I saw it. There was demonology attached to the Beatles, not a little bit either, this was massive. I was looking at Paul is Dead sites, Beatles forums, and everything I was looking at was what I looked at in my own life every single day. There was something going on here, and I swear what I was looking at was the exact same thing I had been looking at myself, these weren't just demons attached to the Beatles, they were the exact same fucking demons.
What in the hell?
Little Paul was fully alert now, looking at this too. It was all starting to come back. Paul being replaced, replaced by a guy named William. I went by Will now, I had replaced myself somewhere along the way, how weird is this, and then a Tuesday afternoon in Ann Arbor started to come back to us as well.
What in the hell? There were clues everywhere, clues that Paul had died and been replaced. That had to be nonsense, that was the conclusion of most people but some of these people on the Beatles forums didn't seem to think so. They think Paul really died. I see why, the clues are really there. Why are the clues there?
As I looked over everything Beatles related in the days and weeks ahead, it was becoming clearer and clearer, why ever the clues are there, whatever in the world that the Beatles were on about, the clues were covering something up. They were covering up the demonology. Because there was stuff that there was no way the Beatles had actually intended, that much was plain as day.
This wasn't about Paul, it was really about John. This was evil, it was absolute evil in the band that originally had been innocence to so many people. Weeks before John's death, Yoko Ono had done a song. Kiss Kiss Kiss it was called. You turned it around backwards, right at the very beginning of the song, it said "I shot John Lennon". And then weeks later, John Lennon was shot. John Lennon wasn't shot by Yoko Ono, maybe John Lennon was shot by whatever was in Yoko Ono. I watched Howard Cosell announce his death.
This was a crucifixion scene, there was demonology all over this, look at that kicker nodding his head as Cosell said Dead On Arrival! Look at the Patriots with their hands raised in the huddle, like the hands over Paul's head in Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour! Remember how Revolution Number 9 ended, the song that said Turn Me On Dead Man in reverse? Hold that line, block that kick?
They knew. They knew what was happening to John Lennon before it did. This was staged, a screenplay. Little Paul, the 3 year old me returned from the dead, was staring at this with me, enraptured. John Lennon was an Object of Wrath and Destruction. There was no question to either of us. This wasn't just demons knowing about his death, this was demons causing his death. And they were doing it in full view of everyone. My God.
The implications were incredible. The demons were on TV, they were on full display. And they knew it too. I'm surprised there isn't a yellow smiley face ball bouncing across the screen, the kind Little Paul hated so much, "they're taunting me".
This is what we were used to seeing, nothing is natural, every move is scripted. Here it all is! I watched this, or Old Paul did, I'm not sure who anymore, as a teenager. It was heartbreaking, it was heartbreaking to millions of people, the end of the sixties, the end of innocence, and it was a demonic Shakespeare play all along.
We left the video finally, supercharged, and started digging.
Hey Jude. The ultimate Object of Wrath and Destruction was Judas. Julian was just a little kid, like I had been just a little kid. Hey Jude to me had become the demon song. It was mocking, mocking the people who couldn't do anything about the despair in their lives. People like Judas, or Julian, or me as a 3 year old, or whoever it applied to. After all, there was never a limit attached to how many Esau's there could be in the world.
I watched the Beatles perform Hey Jude on the David Frost show on YouTube. And in the audience next to Ringo was Michelle, dressed in red. She wasn't identical, but so close as to completely startle me. Michelle who had been killed in a car accident in front of 666 100th street. 6 months after my accident, the day after we'd moved into apt. #6. The streetlight that went on every night, but went out the night she died.
There was a picture of her on Google, they called her Linda Blair on the Beatles sites because of the way her eyes were rolled back into her head in the photo. She looked somewhat demonic. I looked up the performance of Hey Jude on David Frost and the answer came back as September 8th 1968. I sat in shock looking at the date. Michelle had been born on September 7th 1968. This was all a script. I'm not imagining the blonde thing, its staring me right in the face.
Then I came across the Is God Dead issue of Time, it just so happened to be on Julian's birthday. His 3rd birthday. 3.
I was curious, logged onto the date and time calculator online. Took Julian's date of birth 4/8/63. Romans 9:22, hmmm; I subtracted 922 weeks on a lark. I get 8/6/45. The first atomic bomb at Hiroshima. How weird is that? The date and time calculator goes both ways. I add 922 weeks now instead. I sat and looked at the answer, my jaw on the floor.
The answer was December 8th 1980. Julian Lennon was 922 weeks old, to the day, when his father died. John Lennon was an Object of Wrath and Destruction, just like me.
Why?
It took another six years to figure it all out.
I took a walk along the Lake Michigan shoreline, looking out at the nighttime sky; I had been thoroughly vanquished, destroyed in a war that certain people may have watched with a bemused horror, but most had no idea what had gone on. I knew, and now I knew something else. I stalked, measuring my words; then I finally said it to God Almighty;
"I've got you."
You did this to me, but you also did this to someone else, and I can prove it.
I didn't hear anything in response, I just had a thought come into my head, one that both curbed my righteous fury and suddenly brought the entire experience into focus.
He knows you've got him, he just handed it to you.
RIP to Prince. It's their story...
|
|
|
922
May 5, 2017 5:50:18 GMT -5
Post by Will on May 5, 2017 5:50:18 GMT -5
Satan’s graffiti or God’s art? by Atlanta based Black Lips, produced by Sean Lennon.
|
|
|
922
May 31, 2017 20:49:16 GMT -5
Post by Will on May 31, 2017 20:49:16 GMT -5
And when you see the end in sight The beginning may arrive! For those who look for meaning, And form as they do facts, We might tell you one thing But we'd only take it back Not back like in a box back Not back like in a race, Not back so we can keep it, But back in time and space! You say we're manufactured, To that we all agree, So make you choice and we'll rejoice In never being free!
|
|
|
922
Jun 1, 2017 13:13:39 GMT -5
Post by Will on Jun 1, 2017 13:13:39 GMT -5
It was 50 years ago today...
|
|
|
922
Jun 9, 2017 19:09:59 GMT -5
Post by Will on Jun 9, 2017 19:09:59 GMT -5
“Songwriting is about getting the demon out of me. It’s like being possessed.” --John Lennon
|
|
|
922
Jul 20, 2017 15:10:15 GMT -5
Post by Will on Jul 20, 2017 15:10:15 GMT -5
I dreamt about the Beatles last night. I woke up with Rocky Raccoon playing in my head and a concerned look my wife’s face. She told me my friend had just passed away. Thoughts of you flooded my mind and I wept. I’m still weeping, with sadness, as well as gratitude for having shared some very special moments with you and your beautiful family. You have inspired me in many ways you could never have known. Your talent was pure and unrivalled. your voice was joy and pain, anger and forgiveness, love and heartache all wrapped up into one. I suppose that’s what we all are. You helped me understand that. I just watched a video oof you singing “A Day In The Life” by the Beatles and thought of my dream. I’d like to think you were saying goodbye in your own way. I can’t imagine a world without you in it. I pray you find peace in the next life. I send my love to your wife and children, friends and family.
--Chester Bennington's note after Chris Cornell's death
The so-called 'psychotically depressed' person who tries to kill herself doesn't do so out of quote 'hopelessness' or any abstract conviction that life's assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about the people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window, i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire's flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It's not desiring the fall; it's terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling 'Don't!' and 'Hang on!', can understand the jump. Not really. You'd have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.
-Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
RIP Chester Bennington, on what would have been Chris Cornell's 53 birthday.
|
|