Apologia Revisited

Even if you aren’t reading this,

…this moment,…these words…this testament

is for all of you, as well as for each of you…

the heroines of all my never-ending torch songs.

My heroines, my heroin…

Perhaps I wasn’t your best friend after all,

but not for nothing…you can’t say I didn’t try.

I’m a weaver of dreams, a conjuror of spells,

but I fear the realities I brought you 

did not live up to the Great Expectations I inspired

until I disappointed the Dickens out of you.

“I’m sorry” I say

“Is there nothing I can do?” I ask

as you sadly shake your head (“no”).

as a small part of me dies inside.

This is what I do time and again.

‘til you’d think I’d grow weary of it,

but no, I just grow so very,…very weary

of letting you down again.

I didn’t want to be that guy…after all…

I was the guy who taught you Grand Theft Auto

(not the video game…)

The guy who took you

camping, or fishing, or diving or hunting

smuggling guns or contraband and stolen

works of art over state lines,

screwing like cats in heat at turnpike rest stops,

driving too many hours with too little sleep

were it not for ‘better living through chemistry’

You were the first to jump right in with me, wherever

whatever magic helped raise the ante

back when it was still fun

to live dangerously and without fear…

walking past chalk lines to do the Devil’s bidding

like it was a game of (hip-) hop-scotch.

Whether copping a feel or a few stolen kisses

still took our breath away.

I was the guy your parents warned you about

even after they found me charming, witty and bright,

because they didn’t know I was also that other guy…

 wasn’t that a part of the appeal….?

I was the Serpent in the Garden and you were my Primordial Eve.

You became my co-conspirator.

You followed me into

sleazy clubs in basements underground;

in practice houses, and lived in industrial neighborhoods,

a haunted house way out in the country

next to a cemetery where no one else would live

or warehouse districts, or wherever I found a place,

playing guitar so loud you thought your eyeballs would bleed

and your ears would ring for weeks on end,

where we would hold out like outlaws day and night.

You went with me to rifle and pistol ranges, and dojos,

living in houses filled with guns and ammo

(not the magazine….),

the walls of entire rooms lined with amplifiers to the ceiling,

guarded by dangerous dogs who loved you

almost as much as me

and would have killed for you as you would for me

or I for you,

when it seemed like that moment

was just around the next turn in the story.

There was a knife and a gun in every drawer

and under each pillow each night.

We slept in tents, on floors, in cars and trucks,

or high-rise apartments overlooking the bay

that we could never afford,

if not for the generous benefactors

we chose to entertain.

We watched porn together. We made porn together,

Hell, we were porn together

and everything we ever did was either Art or Music.

We painted everything in sight.

We sketched and photographed each other

while we played and sang with such conviction

I don’t know how our hearts didn’t burst.

We learned to dance the Apocalypso

on the razor’s edge ‘til dawn

and got up and did it all over again.

We drove way too fast through downtown traffic

any time of day, whichever way we were going,

or late at night along the beach with the lights out

or up on the Interstate, illuminated by

flamingo-pink sodium vapor lights;

stopping on the causeways over Biscayne Bay

just long enough to remind each other of who we were

and just where we were just then.

When every moment alive together was a miracle.

We fucked on the perimeter road around MIA,

(Em-Eye-Eh)

with the planes maybe a hundred feet

over our heads, engines screaming

and one eye looking out for cops

with nothing better to do

than to wish they could have been us.

No matter where we went or what we did

it seemed like I could talk my way

into or out of anything or anywhere

and charm the birds from right out of the trees,

particularly if it meant staying out of jail…or worse

(but most especially if I thought it might impress you.)

But most of all, I let every one of you down

one way or another.

…so many memories of that defining moment

when you knew it was over,

leaving me to figure it out later….

I played grasshopper to your ant

well into our winter of discontent.

It didn’t turn out happily ever after…

it never has and probably never will,

for me or for you….

Maybe it never does.

Maybe it’s not supposed to…

I just hope you can look back and remember

those few golden moments we shared, the same fondness,

with the same lack of reservations we shared back then

before we gave a thought to how it all might end,

because it was the beginnings and everything in between

that made it all worthwhile for me…

and each ending too beautifully, poignantly sad to just be forgotten

back when I was just me and you were just you

before we ever thought about tomorrow….

If I had the chance to do it all over again

I’d do it all over you.

It just took me too long to realize

that not being a bad person

didn’t make me a good person.

(…but not for nothing)

You can’t say I didn’t try.

Who can say they did all of it,

and gave their all with all of me?

(You know who you are, n’est-ce pas?)

Just you…

Because before there was you and me, Darlin’

each one of the others saw something special

to show me about myself that took me higher,

‘tho some cut me low before they were thru.

But I cannot deny

each one of them didn’t teach me a thing or two

I hadn’t yet learned

so that maybe it wouldn’t happen

the same way to me and you.

So here we are now just you and just me

and those wantonly willing hostages

whomever we take as we continue together

until

The End.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  a March 9th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, into and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rumors of my Death are Somewhat Exaggerated

In the midst of chaos

my quest continues.

If all things return to the One

to where does the One return?

?

?

?

Zero

Every Bonanzee has his Day (In Court)

 

As anyone who has ever been in a protracted legal dispute can tell you, it has a way of taking over your life completely until it is over, and the legal maneuvering can easily sidetrack the real issues until it becomes difficult to even remember what got your there in the first place.

That is what attorneys are for; they create a self-justifying need with each side upping the stakes (and fees) while still eventually getting to the heart of the case.

The real meat, bone and gristle of this case centered upon the question of what is sentience, and how is it measured, or determined to exist? Both sides insisted upon having their choice of interpreters of American Sign Language present to translate Frederick’s testimony.

Mark was the obvious choice for Frederick’s side. His credentials were flawless and indisputable. The opposition, represented by SAIC and Leidos (the subcontractors for the DOD) attempted at every point to marginalize the answers Frederick gave, and it was up to Mark to call them on it every time they did.

Both sides had their share of skeletons in their respective closets that neither wanted to have to share with the judge, jury or general public.

SAIC and Leidos although admittedly under the employ of the DOD, used the cloak of “National Security” to avoid discussion of (forgive me) a “Gorilla (actually “Guerilla”) Army” of primates being trained to do the government’s bidding.

So far, Ash, Merle and the other church officers of The Home for Wayward Souls had managed to keep the secret of The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil to themselves by restricting its use, knowledge and distribution to themselves, with only very select members of the ArchAngels and Anastasia being the only others who were privy to its existence.

Neither side wanted to have to explain or justify the full extent of their individual hidden agendas.

Charles and Lothar found themselves having to constantly upgrade their electronic security of the premises. Government spooks were constantly trying to invade the grounds to place cameras, transmitters and microphones everywhere imaginable to try to gather damaging Intel to use against their opposition.

Although Stanley had ostensibly been assigned to supervise the group and gather Intel as well as provide protection of PharmaCorp’s assets (Frederick), he secretly made sure there was no breach of the members’ privacy, even though he made sure that Charles and Lothar made the actual discovery of any bugs of any kind.

It became a larger-then-life full-time occupation for Charles, which was fortunate enough because he suddenly found himself unemployed by PharmaCorp after the meltdown of the “Talking Monkeys” project. Ten years of diligent hard work and a very impressive sale record meant nothing, once he was identified as working for the other side by virtue of being named as a church officer.

Florida, as well as most “Right to Work” states have complete legal impunity to fire anyone at any time for no reason whatsoever under the guise of the “business needs” of the employer with no recourse on the part of the terminated former employee. Period.

Ash assured Charles that he would always be an integral part of the church’s organization. Therein lay the difference between a job and work. Ash in fact insisted that Charles be paid a salary at least double his best hourly wages including commission and incentives. He did not have to punch a time clock, even an electronic one.

Imagine if da Vinci or Michelangelo worked for a modern corporation, say under the auspices of Michael Eisner and Disney.

Jobs may come and go, even if they rob you of every bit of energy, enthusiasm and joy a day at a time, but the real work of a person’s life is always there, forever waiting like an insatiable lover to be either ignored or satisfied; the choice is yours.

He knew what was needed and gladly worked incessantly until it was done, and there was no shortage of work, which for him was a labor of Love. He had a vested interest in every action he performed, and he felt, for the first time in his life that any and all of his knowledge and skills were needed and appreciated.

And he was trusted on a level that most family members never know (especially if an inheritance or an estate is involved so as to turn kin into adversaries).

This was as transparent a group of individuals as could ever be found, which was not without a certain degree of discomfort, adjustment and growth. Fortunately, The Knowledge also fueled the insight necessary to find acceptance of the truth.

It was during this time that Suki discovered that Charles and Anastasia had a history that went back more than twenty years ago when he was a faculty member at Miami-Dade Community College and she was an eighteen-year old aspiring film student.

She re-discovered him by pure accident when she went on her quest to write a story about the Kink/Fet community and Polyamory. She had originally used the name Stacey when she met Charles in school, which was simpler and more trendy back then, and she had changed her last name when she got married.

They had become quite an item for a while, but they drifted apart when she went back to LA, and Charles honestly did not initially recognize her despite their romantic history. Twenty years is a long time for appearances to change a person almost beyond recognition.

Anastasia was reluctant to broach the subject, and was a little bit stung by her pride because she thought that he did not remember her, when in fact, he did remember her…he just hadn’t recognized her.

It wasn’t until the three of them took The Knowledge together that Charles suddenly realized he was in the presence of a long-lost flame, and under the influence of such a powerful empathogenic drug, there can be no secrets, and Suki quickly sensed, and finally realized the full extent of Anastasia’s subterfuge.

And almost as quickly, they all came to the realization that Anastasia’s intentions were good overall; she had no axe to grind as far as intending to take Charles from Suki; she had her own hands full maintaining a very strong and loving relationship with her part-time absentee husband, and she and Suki both knew in their hearts that the love and friendship they had developed for each other almost eclipsed Anastasia’s earlier fascination with Charles.

You could say that the two women’s relationship with each other had all the earmarks of serendipity, and it was easy for both to trust each other’s intentions, given the transparency and inability of guile or falsity to exist in such a transcendent and intuitive atmosphere. There were able to trust their own hearts because they knew each other’s hearts.

Once that was out of the way they became as solid a triad as there ever has been. This sent a ripple through the entire group, pointing out once again how much emphasis the illusion of the need of most forms of privacy are largely rooted in some kind of secrecy that is unnecessary amongst such a truly sentient and telepathic group.

This event took all the members through a sort of quantum leap of self-realization as well as group consciousness from which there could not be any turning back.

They became as one.

Finally, both legal parties agreed upon one additional independent sign language interpreter hired by the court from a pool of available experts who seemed to be completely neutral regarding the issues at stake in an attempt to give the court a better idea of what might be regarded as a middle ground between two admittedly biased interpreters.

What no one else knew was that during Frederick’s well-rehearsed testimony he had the added advantage of silent telepathic prompting from Ash and Merle, who sat in the midst of the lawyers.

Frederick believed he had spent his entire previous life preparing for this moment in time, and the fate of all primates hung in the balance. He could not have been more ready for this test.

 

 

 

 

 

THFWS&TTM’s: Every Day is Judgment Day

Every Day is Judgment Day

 

You could fill a law book with a summary of the flurry of motions, claims and counter-claims filed by both sides regarding the disposition of the primates requesting asylum at The Home for Wayward Souls. The basic premises were these:

• The Home for Wayward Souls was being challenged as not being a legitimate house of worship because they were not affiliated with any specific denomination, nor did they espouse belief in or worship of any specific deity. If it was ruled that they were not in fact a true church, then seeking asylum in their sanctuary would not be a valid claim.
• PharmaCorp was petitioning the IRS to revoke their Religious tax-exempt status. The government stood to receive a great deal of money if this did occur, were it not for the 501-(c)3 non-profit status incorporated into what in effect constituted a line marriage of all the church officers, including Ash and Kali. PharmaCorp’s strategy here was to disarm them of their considerable wealth in an attempt to limit their ability to finance their legal campaign. It was more of a show of flexing their considerable muscle and a psychological intimidation factor, once their non-profit status was discovered.
• Ash maintained that as an ordained minister (due to his original affiliation with the Unitarian Universalists), as well as a Doctor of Divinity it was not within the purview of The State to dictate, regulate, define, or pass judgment upon what even constituted a church in the first place by virtue of the doctrine of the separation of Church and State. He also publicly stated that if pressed, he could claim that they worshipped all primates, including Man, or even the Ancient Ones, or Los Guerreros, not unlike the Church of Lukumi Aye Babalu, (aka Santeria). If the Hindus could worship cattle, elephants and monkeys he defied The State to discredit his church.
• The Primates, both Chimps and Bonobos alike (as well as Frederick, who was a hybrid cross between the two, who also maintained he was the sole member of a unique species so rare as to be classified as endangered) claimed to possess sentience, therefore to be owned or possessed by anyone and forced to commit labor against their free will and choice constituted slavery, as well as false imprisonment.
• PharmaCorp maintained that all the primates as well as their offspring were their legally purchased property, and were to be returned to their rightful owners.
• In an attempt to play both sides of the coin however, PharmaCorp further stated that even if the courts did find the primates to be sentient, then they should be held accountable for their actions, including the destruction of millions of dollars of property, as well as disruption of commerce.
• PharmaCorp further alleged that the influences of Frederick’s attendance of services at The Home for Wayward Souls was directly responsible for inciting the rebellion of the primates, therefore they were suing Ash’s church for damages and subsequent profit losses incurred, alleging conspiracy to incite riot, sedition and malicious aggravated vandalism.
• It was the contention of the primates’ attorneys that they had been subjected to cruel and inhumane treatment against their will, including using coercion to cause them to unknowingly take addictive drugs to induce them to perform tasks that resulted in profits being made from their servitude without proper compensation. They were countersuing for unpaid wages as well as punitive claims for damages, interest, and all attorney’s fees.

• Perhaps the most controversial claim made by the primates was that they had incurred stress and injuries resulting from the influences of forced repetitive thoughts and stimulus-mediated responses, much like repetitive motion injuries, which they referred to as Cerebral Tunnel Syndrome.

• Because the conditions to which the primates were subjected were no different from those in any other telemarketing boiler-room operation, a great deal was at stake regarding working conditions. If it was to be ruled that it was inhumane to treat an animal (sentient or not) to such conditions, the consequences would be far-reaching in an industry already notorious for poor treatment of its employees.

 

• In the interim, Stanley Linderman was put in charge of “protecting” the property and personal interests of PharmaCorp as regards all of the primates, especially Frederick. It was mutually agreed that he be allowed to remain on the premises, even though the FDLA (Florida Department of Law Enforcement) and the FBI had established a perimeter around the property associated with The Home for Wayward Souls. It was sketchy as to the jurisdiction that warranted FBI presence, given the fact that PharmaCorp was not owning up to any affiliation with the DOD despite the fact that it was becoming increasingly clear that the federal government also had a vested interest, and no one wanted to see either the Army or National Guard surrounding the premises.

Amidst all of this, Darcy’s due date was rapidly approaching. Mark and Darcy had already moved into the Sanctuary, but despite the chaos and stress that would normally be associated with the stand-off and the never-ending surveillance by the news media as well as law-enforcement including helicopter fly-overs and obnoxious paparazzi the religious services and television shows continued, and the human members were allowed to come and go as they pleased, including Ash’s congregation and guests.

Most of the single members of Ash’s band, The ArchAngels had moved in semi-permanently, and during that time they produced a double album entitled Apocalypso Music from The Siege of the Garden, which went double-platinum in less than six weeks.

The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil got to be like a vitamin for the enlightened inner circle, and provided much-needed insight and a sense of calm for all of those privileged to experience it.

It became the place to be, to experience, and to give and receive in like kind, and it seemed like the whole world was watching…and all the while, the band played on.