The Snowball Fight

The Snowball Fight

I love porn, but I don’t watch it very often anymore. I have almost never paid to watch it, and it has been years since I purchased any of it, yet it comes to me like a long-lost lover whom I am obligated to give witness without having sought her in the first place.
I am no expert on porn either. I used to know the names of most of the male and female leads who were distributed by Cal Vista during the seventies and eighties, but that’s about it. No addiction to porn
Imagine…there I am, minding my own business…more addicted to my own imagination than anything, when along comes “The Beautiful People”….
I used to know one of them. I met her a while after she tried to quit the business, or the business quit her…I’m not really sure which came first. She rolled right up to the door of my E.R. on a motorcycle she had designed and painted herself. Her back was covered in the most beautiful monochrome single-needle cholo style Tree of Life I had ever seen and she had driven to my hospital with one leg in a cast up to her hip and one crutch.
In the rain.
She was a bit disheartened when she realized I did not recognize her, but she only fucked for love or sport by the late eighties, and my ignorance made me an enigma to her.
The business had already changed at least once on her since she got her start, and she had the good sense to get out while she still had money in the bank and her house paid for. Fame is a fickle mistress and trends are like breezes on the beach.
Because I own a computer and possess a preternatural level of curiosity about Things Carnal I have noticed numerous subtle and unsubtle changes in the Industry and what it produces in terms of what and how and upon whom it chooses to focuses its lens.
I know it has been seen with more prevalence over the past several years, but I for one still feel a little uncomfortable watching the scenes where the actors and actresses spit onto either each other’s genitalia, or even into each other’s mouths.
I am not squeamish about “The Dark Kiss” (anilingus), nor do I shrink about swallowing, or even “Snowballing” (the reciprocated kiss), but even just the idea of being spat upon anywhere on my body set my comfort zone out of whack…until I thought up a script for a porno I would love to make with just the right players (no actors allowed; ‘ya gotta be a believer) just to enjoy the experience.
The film would be called “The Snowball Fight” because instead of simply passing the semen from mouth to mouth during a deep kiss, they would spit for at least several inches, or perhaps even several feet at the open mouth of the intended recipient. Of course, sometimes they will miss…but that’s just part of the fun.
But the object would be to conduct it like a Frisbee toss and catch, where the recipients sometimes make amazing efforts of skill and dedication resulting in saves that would make any major-league outfielder envious.
As a result, say for instance Lady A. blows Mister D. only to spit it across several feet to the open mouth of Lady S. before she transfers it into the mouth of say, Mister A who deposits it into the snatch of Lady S. (for safekeeping inside the goal-net).
Mister D. then goes down on Lady A. who has a great big surprise for him waiting inside her goal-net, courtesy of Mister A. whereupon Lady X. enters and gets on all fours so that Misters D. and A. can spit snowballs onto Lady X’s buttocks as Mister V. ravages her from behind, attempting to help push the spewed conglomerate of their combined viscous offerings back into the snatch of Lady X. while Lady S. lies on her back as she licks Lady X. impaled upon Mister V.’s viande.
Eventually, this could be shot along the lines of a Japanese bukkake film as Lady S., or even her designate, Lady A. could eventually receive the entire avalanche (“snowballs”) in a tsunami of viscous body fluids.
Oh, and BTW: No intention is made or implied as to the identity of any of the proposed players in the imaginary script.
If you prefer, you can go all Reservoir Dogs on it and call Lady A. Lady Red, and Lady S. could be Lady Yellow, and Mister A could be Mister Pink (he won’t like it any better than Steve Buscemi’s character did), Mister D. could be Mister White and Lady X. could be Lady Blue, and Mister V. would probably want to be Mister Black.
Upon reflection, it may be somewhat difficult to locate six really close intimate friends who are all into the same thing like this, unless they were all in a really silly mood, so as not to give it that edgy-nasty hard-core mood that was created in the films that I did see that contained elements of the above-proposed scenario. Maybe there are amateurs out there somewhere who are up to the task.
Or Maybe that’s just me.

The Home for Wayward Souls and The Talking Monkeys: Transcendence

 

WARNING: ADULT CONTENT. NOT SAFE FOR WORKPLACE. LIKELY TO BE OFFENSIVE TO ALL BUT THE MOST BROAD-MINDED AND LIBERAL. THIS CHAPTER EXCEEDS ALL PREVIOUS CHAPTERS FOR CONTROVERSIAL IDEAS AND CONCEPTS AND OPENLY EMBRACES SEVERAL SUBJECTS THAT WILL UNDOUBTEDLY BE REGARDED AS SACRELIGIOUS AND PERVERSE, ESPECIALLY BY RELIGIOUS FUNDAMENTALISTS. SO THERE…DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU….

Transcendence

“I realize that we have seen some very remarkable and sometimes bizarre occurrences in our encounters with this group. As earthbound Humans and one quite remarkable primate, these eight individuals, if not singularly unique, are at the very least quite extraordinary.”

“I feel as though these repeated sessions of group consciousness are having its own effect upon me as well. Not what I would describe as a ‘contact high,’ but rather an extremely powerful state of mind. One might be tempted to label it as mass hysteria, and as a participant/observer I cannot rule out the possibility, but in so doing, I would nonetheless state that there may be good reason for embracing credence in the power of such states of mind…”

Raul the Cuban Tree Frog, acting again as our reporter for Intergalactic Geographic is perched upon a screen outside The Sanctuary, teleset with boom microphone on head, and script in hand as he narrates his observations. As you may have suspected from our previous encounters, he is not exactly just your average Cuban Tree Frog (Osteopilus septentrionalis), but in order to gain safe passage in this dimension, he is in precisely the right configuration to best  dispatch his assigned mission.

Raul continued. “For one thing, sometime during the onset of this particular session, I began to realize that what I had mistaken for utterances by the individuals involved was perceived in fact within my own head, much like the experiences of the members of the experiment.”

“Upon further consideration of my animal form, I would be inclined to admit that it might indeed tend to give me a predilection for intuitive cognitive processes much like the telepathy or intuition to which Frederick, Mark, and Darcy have alluded as being distinctly animal attributes and abilities. Based upon my own subjective experiences within this context, I would concur.”

As Raul continues his narrative, the other members are finding themselves more and more sexually preoccupied, and since there are no secrets within this group (given their common consciousness of each other’s thoughts), the effect is rapidly intensified.

Who of us has not wished at one point or another to be able to “read” the minds of others? Yet the prospect of one’s own mind being equally transparent to others is not one that most of us would embrace….

It is one thing to be fully understood when we wish to be, but most of us are so addicted to our own deceits, conceits, denials, and self-deceptions that it is highly unlikely that we would be inclined to go down the road of telepathy and intuition once we realized the consequences of navigating a two-way thoroughfare.

One of the more disarming features of their current state of mind is how much their individual senses of smell have become intensified, especially concerning each other’s pheromones. Frederick has always been very high-functioning in this regard, but even he is pleasantly surprised by the enhancement.

As each member finds themself curiously testing the air as they first identify the aroma, then its source, knowing full well that everyone else is not only doing the same, but also aware of what each of the rest of them are doing, they begin to truly embrace the concept of their animal origins.

As self-proclaimed civilized humans, we have been taught to eschew all bodily odor altogether, instead preferring that our genitalia should smell like jasmine, lilacs, spices or even exotic fruits, but deep within our psyches, buried under eons of repression, our animal ancestors instinctively knew that they liked the smell of cocks and cunts…and the ocean…and seafood…and freshly-plowed earth.

For less evolved individuals, this could have spun out of control rather quickly, but given the fact that seven of the group have been using this drug for several months now together, the customary inhibitions, or conflicts that could have been stress-provoking have been bridged and assuaged…for the most part.

When Frederick suddenly realized that everyone else was also aware of his olfactory perusal of Darcy, Suki, and Kali’s nether regions, he also became aware of the fact that everyone else was doing the same according to their own tastes.

No one was alarmed or offended. In their current state of mind, everything seemed natural and provocatively intriguing. And Frederick was no longer an outsider by virtue of being merely an animal. In their minds, they had already transcended those barriers.

In their minds, they saw themselves just as much animals as they regarded Frederick to be. Just slightly different animal forms, as well as so much more….

With that, Frederick pantomimed blowing Darcy a kiss as he winked at her.

She responded by giggling like a young girl and suddenly removed her panties, which she threw to him. She then arose from her sitting position on the floor and went over to Mark, who was already removing his pants in anticipation. The rest of the group quickly shed their clothes as well.

Merle, Suki and Charles began to peruse and ponder a number of possible combinations of explorations among themselves as Ash and Kali moved together among the other members encouraging and fondling as they went.

Rather surprisingly, Darcy left her short, sheer dress on as she bent over to take Mark into her mouth. Mark was reclining, but propped up slightly on his elbows, with his head tilted back. He moaned softly and lifted his hips just a little each time Darcy took him further into the back of her throat. She began to reach a steady rhythmic bobbing of her head as Mark began to fuck her mouth.

An instant before it happened, Darcy and the rest of the group realized Frederick was about to first lick Darcy’s exposed bottom, and then her very wet pussy.

That moment seemed to hang suspended in time for a New York eternity (even though they were still in Florida).

As soon as Darcy realized that she was able to accept this eventuality, she also realized that she was in fact relieved and very aroused by her ability to be able to assimilate the experience, and so was everybody else.

In that moment in time in that particular space, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. All of them were also pondering how it must have been much like this when Man transcended and ascended from his primate ancestry by virtue of those ancient visitors so long ago, resulting in the “Upper Palaeolithic Revolution”, or the so-called “Great Leap Forward”.

As Darcy began to moan with pleasure as Frederick gratefully lavished her puanani with the most enthusiastic oral stimulation, Mark began to realize that he was nearly as aroused by watching Frederick perform cunnilingus upon the love of his life as he was by Darcy’s writhing ecstasy as she vigorously took him into her mouth and throat.

By the time Frederick finally mounted Darcy from behind, first gently, almost gingerly and then frantically thrusting his Bonanzee cock as hard and fast as he could into Darcy’s wet, quivering cunt, no one was the least surprised, offended or even uncomfortable. In their minds, this was an event that was over fifty thousand years in the making.

Only humans even attempt to protract the act of copulation in the least, but as quickly as Frederick managed to achieve orgasm, it was more than sufficiently long and vigorous enough to make Darcy climax violently as she felt Frederick’s throbbing cock spill stream after stream of warm, spurting semen deep into her pussy.

And it somehow seemed like the most natural and beautiful event in over fifty thousand years.

Mark was now quite anxious to fuck Darcy also. Frederick was already wandering around the room, eating fruit and mostly observing the others copulating, and Mark turned Darcy around to also mount her from behind as Frederick had done, but she suddenly began to grind Mark’s cock into her ass as she slowly pushed his rigid prick deep inside her.

After shucking off her dress, she then grabbed Merle as he sauntered over, and began to lick and suck his enormous member, which did not fit at all well into her mouth as she slathered it up and down with her tongue, lips and face. Merle grew hard again in a surprisingly short period of time. He had not come when he fucked Suki briefly at Charles’ request while he watched, and he badly needed release.

Merle then lay flat on his back and Darcy straddled him as Mark pumped her ass from behind. By the time both men came, she was drenched in sweat and cum. Her pussy was stretched and distended from Merle’s enormous cock and her ass was swollen, gaping and dripping.

By the end of the evening, sometime before dawn, she managed to fuck Ash and Charles as well, while Suki and Kali also took turns with all the men, but Frederick only copulated with Darcy, although he did it again several more times that night with her.

Although Frederick mounted Darcy from behind the first time, The next time, as Darcy lay upon her back, as they prepared to copulate, the air was heavy with anticipation of what was to come. The first time was as pure animals, the both of them allowing Nature to take over as they rode on waves of polypeptides and hormones into a region of the forbidden, yet eternal quest of curiosity where no action is inherently either sacred or profane. The eternally questioning mind often leads the body into uncharted waters.

Perversity does not exist in the animal kingdom the way that it thrives in the Human Condition.

But now, as Darcy lay there, legs apart, feeling the hair of Frederick’s belly, thighs and chest against her smooth, nearly hairless body, she came to a realization of who Frederick was, rather than what he was.

This strangely familiar being, this state of consciousness that so worshipped her as Goddess was in this moment realizing the culmination of resolution of desires beyond his wildest primate dreams, which were taking place in real time in a state of divine grace and ecstatic union with his own higher power, even beyond her as the Goddess, to experience an understanding of The One, feeling its movement through both him and her.

Now, as Darcy gazed deeply into Frederick’s eyes she witnessed his reflection of the Divine, peering deeply into Frederick’s soul, even as it was now, in this crucial state of flux, so also did Frederick stare into Darcy’s soul in a way he had never imagined before.

For him, it was to bear witness to the Goddess, not to know it on an intellectual level, but viscerally, the only way that one can ever really know anything when it comes to beliefs and faith.

You can’t intellectualize God into existence. The Knowledge you may experience as you feel the movement, the waves, the ripples and the winds set in motion by the gods and goddesses we know and become as we pass through this level of existence are mere reflections of a divine order that so surpasses our own levels of comprehension as to be unfathomable.

This occult world is not by definition something to be explained with words. The Knowing is enough. If it does not reveal itself to you in a way that you can allow yourself to experience, the chances are that you will explain it away with scientific beliefs based on speculation just as wild and unfounded as any other religion.

Dogma and Doctrine may be replaced by Axioms and Theorems, but both are supported by faith. Faith is what we believe in the absence of absolute proof.

If you simply believe that what happens today will indicate what will happen tomorrow, or that if two phenomena occur repeatedly together that a relationship exists between them, then your faith is no better than anyone else’s.

As Darcy lay there looking into Frederick’s countenance, she truly wanted this union in a way that was spiritual and that spoke of Majic of an indescribably unselfconscious bliss far beyond any sexual experience, and in so doing to temporarily satiate the eternally questioning mind.

It would be easy to imagine that Darcy looked down from herself to allow Frederick to occupy such personal space with her, but she was already sensing that the primal knowledge she was about to gain from Frederick, who intuitively knew what a mistake Man had made when he traded Reason for Instinct, was just as much a part of the Divine as her own..

In this moment in time, both co-existed.

And it was Good…like the way God said at the end of each day of creation.

And as it was happening, the other members of the group knew it too, as their consciousnesses exchanged with each other and their knowledge became as one.

And all the while, the Ancient Ones moved in and around them provoking and enticing the members of the group to a level of sexual ecstasy not seen since the days of the Bacchanal.

And it was Good…very, very good… like the way God said at the end of each day of creation.

Although all the members of the group agreed that there was a distinct cumulative effect that lingered well after the more immediate effects of the Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil had worn off, the effects it had on Frederick were the most dramatic and lasting.

From that point on, he was truly sentient; not human, but deeply aware of himself, his surroundings and peers in a way that would have been previously unimaginable. His abilities to communicate with the others took a quantum leap that was similarly intensified for all of them, who now managed to communicate intuitively and without words in ways they had never before imagined.

And it was all very, very Good….

 

 

THFWS & TTM’s: TaDa!

WARNING! EXTREME SEXUAL CONTENT OF A VERY EXPLICIT AND UNCENSORED NATURE. ADULTS ONLY! REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND PAGAN SEXUAL PRACTICES. NOT FOR CHILDREN. DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT VIEWING THIS AT WORK (UNLESS YOU WORK IN THE SEX INDUSTRY). NOT INTENDED FOR ANYONE UNDER EIGHTEEN YEARS OF AGE, OR THE MENTALLY OR PHYSICALLY INFIRM, UNLESS YOUR DOCTOR HAS STATED THAT YOUR HEART IS HEALTHY ENOUGH FOR EXTREMELY ABBERANT SEX…THERE! I SAID IT…(AS IF THAT IS LIKELY TO STOP ANONE EXCEPT PRUDES AND THE GENERALLY FEARFUL)…

TaDa!

Given the preceding events, it is nonetheless at least interesting to ponder why a naked woman who is in the midst of getting publicly fucked by a sorcerer in front six other naked seekers of enlightenment, several of whom are also similarly engaged, would suddenly feel embarrassment, just because it was her panties that her charge was sniffing and fondling in the vision that had been conjured….

This was about as open-minded an audience as you will ever find anywhere, but there is a chasm wider than the Olduvai Gorge that separates human and all other animal forms of sexuality.

Keep in mind, all seven have taken a psychoactive drug so powerful that it has enabled them to have already experienced simultaneous visions and telepathic powers of communication…

(“How did Frederick get the panties in the first place…did Darcy give them to him…how else?”) Suki blurted (in her mind, which just happened to be in the transmit mode).

(“I’m sure there is a logical explanation…I hope…Is there one?”) questioned Charles.

(“I understand that it is only natural that Frederick is now of an age where his sexuality has come to the forefront…”) mused Ash.

(“I’m just glad it wasn’t one of mine.”) Merle breathed a sigh of relief.

(“What?!?!?) (Darcy had been heretofore unaware of Merle’s cross-dressing proclivities.)

(“Oh shit!) as Mark realized not only the incident where the panties were lost, but also how lucky they were that the lost undergarment had not been left in the company-owned Land Cruiser.

All in an instant.

Just as quickly, the entire group relived that afternoon with Mark and Darcy as they pieced together the details of how all this took place, right up to the point where Darcy recalled having replaced the original pair, which she now had unwittingly revealed to the rest of the group as well…including Mark, who had been previously unaware.

(“Well…they were dirty and old…OK…I was a little flattered in a rather perverse way…he obviously likes my…pheromones…that’s a vital factor in animal behaviors…I thought he would appreciate something…fresher…but with a replenished scent…”)

(“Lately, between the signing lessons and the unofficial telepathy exercises, we have become increasingly aware of Frederick’s crush on Darcy…it was inevitable. He’s reached that age, and he has no mate, like the other primates at the Habitat do…it’s strange and sad.”) Mark was quick to point out.

(“This is the point where all the previous Chimp experiments eventually hit a brick wall of sexual frustrations so severe that the subjects started attacking their trainers…we can’t afford to lose him that way…he’s the only one of his kind…he calls himself a Bonanzee, you know…) Darcy’s thoughts trailed off into silence.

As the group engaged themselves (as well as each other) in thought and speculation about how to get Frederick laid, it was impossible to ignore the fact that they were beginning to experience a sexual frenzy that some, less broad-minded, un-drugged individuals might find bizarre, given the juxtaposition of stimuli.

For some time now, Merle had been cautiously insistent in the pressure he applied to the stroking movements of his now rigid cock; a little further in and out each time, and with increasing tempo, moving little more than his hips in the process, as he grasped Darcy’s hips firmly.

By the point that he was able to finally squeeze first, the enormous corona, and then the thickened shaft where the foreskin slid back and piled up as it folded back upon itself, Darcy was beginning to experience an even further altered state that can only be described by such words as “Unghhh!…Mmmm!…Aaaaahhhhh! OOOOhhhh!, OOOOhhhh!, OOOhhhh!, (and my own personal favorite)…OOOOOOOOhhhhhhhh FFFFFFuck!!!

Darcy had never experienced childbirth, but previous descriptions by other more experienced women brought to mind the expression “Ring of Fire” as she felt the most exquisite, searing expansive sensation that felt like her throbbing Love Canal was being dredged to permit the Titanic clear passage.

Despite her tall stature, she was rather thin and quite petite. Although she had experienced the pleasures that only an oversized cock or dildo can induce on several previous occasions, her outer labia were small, although the inner folds tended to protrude past the outer margins, hinting at what she called her “Magic Hat” that seemed capable of swallowing up objects larger than itself. Tonight however, she felt as if Merle was trying to park a semi inside a phone booth, as the image of the Tardis leapt into her mind.

She was sopping wet by the time Merle began to thrust more forcefully and deeply as he plowed the furrow between her legs until there was no more room inside at all. As he pistoned his thick shaft in and out, small amounts of air forced themselves out of her pussy in a wet, audible squoosh with each stroke.

She was delirious and on the verge of hysteria as she heard a voice yelling (“That’s it!…Tear that pussy apart!…Knock the bottom out of that cunt!”) only to realize she was hearing the group, led by Mark, chanting inside their collective heads, as she was verbalizing the words like a pornographic cheerleader.

Rati had once again materialized in her outfit, sans panties, doing handsprings around the Square Circle and finishing by going through it to do a full split, covering Ash’s face under her sopping snatch.

Ash was on his back, and Kali was astride his hips, planted firmly on his gorgeous dong as Mark violated her ass in frenzied abandon as she joyously gyrated to meet the thrusts of both her lovers like some kind of synchronized clockworks of flesh.

Charles and Suki were almost indistinguishable from the gang of spirits that had materialized around them as they found themselves levitated, and slowly rotating and tumbling in air as every orifice and appendage was either filled or impaled upon every imaginable combination of couplings.

The walls of the living room had been transformed into a series of steps that resembled a Mayan temple on all sides, with the blackest, most star-filled sky above them, at least sixty feet above the floor. The steps were being used by an assembled multitude of beings, some recognizable, and others unfathomable, all chanting the same thing. From time to time, an enormous eyeball, or part of a face would obliterate the sky as if some giant was peering into one of those crystal snowscenes you see on tables during the holidays as the chanting continued. It was not one word, but it was one word, the same word, shouted in the language of each of the members of the audience, some of whom were also copulating with each other in the stands.

The Knowledge was translating every word perfectly to the Seven.

The word was FUCK!

Inside their collective heads, the roar of the crowd was deafening, although they could also clearly hear each other’s breathing and the squishing, squooshing and slapping sounds of sex. They were panting like dogs; grunting like elk in rut, drooling and slobbering, sometimes speaking in the unknown tongues of their audience. Sweat dripped profusely as if they were melting from the sheer heat of their sex, as the floor and walls disappeared and the earth opened up to swallow everything around them, as they plummeted toward what seemed to be the center of the earth.

As they came together, they had the sensation of being ejected from an erupting volcano of semen, sweat, and the saline gumbo of co-mingled fluids of copulation, as if being ejaculated from some monumental phallus, as they lost all consciousness.

They later attested to the fact that at that precise moment, they all believed they had experienced their individual and collective deaths en masse…

And it was Good…like the way it says in Genesis, at the end of each day of the creation.

THFWS & TTM’s: And Now for Something Completely Different…

And Now for Something Completely Different…

So for the rest of the afternoon, they sat and talked and ate and wrote as they planned the next major event they knew would be coming. The actual day and hour was to be determined by astrological/solar/lunar calculations based on probabilities of likelihood of occurrences based on the synchronicities of several calendars upon which various spiritual practices were based.

There was more than a slight resemblance to coincidence between many of the sects, practices, and belief systems they had studied. Different phases of the moon or other planets could create alignment of particular forces, or entities. In the eventuality that the convergences of similar forces were in agreement as to type or nature…the predominant tone, or theme, if you will of what was desired or anticipated by each belief, if not the actual desired result, the better the chances for a particular day or night yielding a particular desired effect. They were in no hurry.

They did, however commit to spending the next season of weekends together in The Asylum, not as a place to commit the mentally and spiritually infirm, but rather a place where they sought Sanctuary and mutual support, comfort, and symbiosis. It would be a time of practicing practices.

They would be spending the next several weekends becoming acclimated to The Fruit, as well as each other. Refining the Practicing of Practices of spiritual, physical, and sexual pursuits designed to summons sacred sex, out-of-body altered states, epiphanies, decries, oracles, omens, realizations, portents, and prophesies. It would be a time of sharing and learning and experiencing, and refining their techniques. To become Practitioners of their appointed Arts.

An air of excitement infused all of them with the enthusiasm of religious zealots, despite the fact that they didn’t really know what they were doing, or how to achieve their goals, the exact direction they were going, or even which was the correct direction…all the while impatient to start.

They researched files and sites that led them to other sites, all connected to each other by a few common threads. Phone calls were made to any place that could speak any of the languages that they collectively spoke. It was Homecoming Week, The Senior Prom and Mardi Gras combined. The collective consciousnesses of a select group of individuals with a common purpose, and a sense of belonging to something even larger than the sum of the parts.

Musical groups, especially rock bands know that sense of belonging and common purpose. Military units deployed to foreign lands know that kind of camaraderie. Religious sects and communities like the Amish or Bush Mormons know a similar sense of community. Each of them possesses a set of requirements for membership, and a certain degree of secrecy surrounds the practices.

It was to be the Carnival. The next Bardo, leading to the Profound Dharma of Self-Liberation through the Intention of the Peaceful and Wrathful Ones…or Liberation through Hearing.

Ash did his Saturday show as planned; he took a nap while the others brain-stormed their way right up until it was time for the show. Ash was brilliant, and focused and foretold portents of great things to come.

Charles continued to work on the Feeder Project (aka: the Talking Monkeys) and finally began to envision Frederick at his console, miles away in another facility, monitoring calls for specific verbal references, or buzzwords to match to the designated pre-recorded messages designed to stall and further validate and qualify the target.

He found himself trying to find a way to transmit the meanings of his messages in a way that Mark and Darcy had led him to believe Frederick to be capable of understanding on an elemental level. Management did not know he even knew of Frederick, but taken on balance you could say they mutually agreed to an unstated ignorance to which they both espoused.

Mark had begun to talk a great deal with Charles about what happened when Man chose Reason over Instinct. A great deal of it centered upon conversations of the mind between Mark and Frederick. He admitted it sounded vague and was completely unscientific, but he said that he and Frederick shared a knowledge that was passed between them like a peace pipe…sometimes, there were images, and feelings. And Darcy had experienced the knowing with Frederick as well, both collectively and independently of Mark.

Mark planned to research certain messages for congruencies or definable or identifiable similarities or connecting threads to document these telepathic experiences without specifically disclosing his intentions to Management. It was not the kind of research the Center was looking to sponsor or divine, and he did not want to share the results with anyone other than Charles, and maybe Ash, who had become quite interested in “where the Ape stopped and the Man begun.”

Charles and Mark also began to collaborate on sonic and visual stimuli to enhance and guide their experiences with The Fruit. Charles had extensive experience with film, sound and video production, but he would be too busy with the ceremonies that were being envisioned to be conducting the orchestrated events. Instead, he would collaborate and choreograph with Mark to provide something to inspire and provoke without specifically knowing the intended results. Besides, Mark needed a focus to diffuse his attentions away from feeling unnecessary. Not jealous, just non-essential, or superfluous to the impending Ascension.

Darcy was beginning to take Frederick away from the Habitat more and more frequently, and for longer periods of time. Lilith enjoyed the solitude with Malkira and Frederick clearly enjoyed the company of other humans, even more than the company of other chimps or bonobos. He was different, and he knew it, expressing pride in being the only one if his kind, “The One and Only Bonanzee”…but he wanted identification and validation with someone or something other than himself, and Mark and Darcy were becoming more acutely aware of his isolation, not by his signing, but by this shared knowing they experienced.

Kali and Suki collaborated on working out the astrological balances of the group. They turned out to be an interesting mix of influences, but most importantly, they amplified and nullified each other in kind as needed to keep them on course and high-functioning, as well as nurturant.

Ash was Aries. Charismatic leader, performer. Front man and facilitator for all things interesting. Half the bivalent nucleus of the Sacred Circle, he is elemental yang.

Kali was Aquarius. A Liaison Between Parties, The Dark Mother. Protector of all Children. The Pornographic Priestess of Sacred Sex. She embodies the yin counterpoint of the Sacred Circle. She is the vessel, the mortar, and the crucible. Her name in Sanskrit is said to be the origin of the word Cunt in all of its most sacred and profane majesty.

Charles was Gemini. He could be many people, known by many names. He was a catalyst and a healer who loved broadly and deeply, but kept the darker side of his nature “Locked up in a cage in the basement…” to only be let out in dire emergencies, and who merely wished to “do good with impunity and without fear.” He was the unspoken protector of the group. He is the West.

Suki was Leo. The Lioness, protector of her pride. A medium for all sorts of Lost Souls with unfinished business on the other side. A witch, a bruja, a strega, sorceress, necromancer, teller of fortunes, a seer, an oracle and living altar of paganism. She is the East.

Mark was Libra. He was a champion of Justice, Balance, Fairness and compassion. Lover of animals and children, he makes friends easily, despite a touch of shyness that women find irresistible. No specific direction can be ascribed to him.

Darcy was Sagittarius. The Zen Archer. The proverbial sadder-but-wiser girl with a heart of gold and feet of clay, she is a lover and a giver to a fault. Quick to bed, but slow to Love, she is plagued by desires for things she does not yet know, as well as ones she knows all too well. More intelligent than she cares to acknowledge and wiser than she realizes, she can be powerful despite her “afflictions”. She is instinct and spontaneity. She is the South.

Merle was Capricorn, an alchemist and a Shaman, a conjuror of spells and states of mind, visions, and spell-binding weaver of dreams. The pole-star in their constellation. He is the pestle. He is the North.

They all spent the next week preparing and anticipating in their own ways for their individual and collective Initiation into the Ways of Majic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Talking Monkeys: TeleMarketers

TeleMarketers

This may be a good point to call attention to several ideas worth noting. Chimpanzees, Bonobos, Orangutans, and Gorillas are not monkeys. The fact that they cannot vocalize their displeasure over this common misparlance does not diminish the vehemence of their umbrage in being categorically misassociated with such lesser primates. Although racism or even breed prejudice is a regrettably common and repugnant offense in both the animal and human species, I feel less inclined to begrudge our hairier cousins for their misdeeds than I do Man(un)kind. Racism is a fact that cannot be ignored, for in our ignorance we have done terrible injustices to ourselves, as well as our victims, but trying to pretend to be oblivious to differences in race out of political correctness deprives us all of the benefit of insight and humor in seeing ourselves as both unique and yet the same.

Charles was a team leader for The Chimp Project, although his supervisors told him it was called the Qualifier/Closer Feeder Project, which in itself was a misnomer insofar as both Chimpanzees, as well as Bonobos were used in the project which included a mixed-breed Chimnobo, (as he was originally dubbed), who quickly pointed out that he preferred to be known as a Bonanzee, because he liked the association with both Bonzai  and Bonanza. His name was Frederick, and the “trainers” who were trying to ascertain just how far his linguistic abilities could be developed in the absence of vocalization were reportedly getting taught a lesson or two themselves, once they “discovered”  Frederick’s uncanny ability to communicate telepathically. In truth, it was more of a matter of Frederick being able to finally break through the researchers’ oblivion and bias.

None of those results, tests, or findings were brought to the attention of Management because, first of all, it was never authorized, and secondly, the researchers involved did not want to expose themselves to ridicule or disdain from the scientific community. But it was certainly an incredible serendipity for those involved who actually experienced it, and it was Frederick who had coined the term Talking Monkeys to describe not only the Humans involved in the project, but also the Project itself.

Charles had become privy to all of this because of his conversations with Mark and Darcy, the Trainer and Handler who attended numerous events at The Home for Wayward Souls, which most members called The Sanctuary  (which was actually the amphitheater where most of the services were held, or performed, if you will). They had only coincidental contact at PharmaCorp, but became friends at their place of “worship”. Mark once said “We worship Life…God can take care of himself…but Life needs Nurturance.” Ash later heard of the remark, and was so impressed that he worked it into an entire sermon.

As mentioned before, Charles had become a TeleMarketer out of regrettable circumstance rather than a plethora of more desirable choices. Charles’ skills and experiences were wide and far-reaching, but when he found himself both grounded and shipwrecked by his previous career occupations, he eventually washed up on the shore of The Island of Lost Souls…Telemarketing.  Frederick was Charles’ link to the outside world of potential customers, or Leads who were qualified by Frederick to eliminate the members who were either not interested in signing up for PharmaCorp’s services, and would be channeled off to another department, like Customer Services, or who could be delayed with prerecorded messages until Charles or another secondary feed could be assigned to a Hot Lead with marketing potential.

Charles had two cousins that were hearing impaired, and had taken the time to learn American Sign Language well enough to communicate with emergency patients he encountered as a municipal Paramedic. It was a delightful coincidence of circumstances that Charles got to meet (and communicate) with Frederick through Mark and Darcy, because not only did they work out of two physically separate facilities, but Charles, as well as the other participants in the “Feeder Project” were never even informed that their qualifiers were not human. Mark and Darcy had sworn Charles to secrecy about the facts of the project because it had been made very clear to them that any leaks about anything associated with The Chimp Project would have dire consequences for all those involved. The so-called “Talking Monkeys” project was in fact a small part of a very convoluted series of experiments with far-reaching future implications, depending on the results of these initial findings. As omnipresent as PharmaCorp was in both the business community and everyday lives of millions of people, they were small potatoes to the real movers and shakers who were quietly monitoring those results from a very safe and remote distance…at least for now.

Telemarketing has become yet another lint-trap or catch basin for both Angels who fell far from grace from very high distances to knuckle-draggers who barely stand upright. Sometimes it only takes one misstep to go from a six-figure salary to homelessness, and Charles had done it more times than he could count. He was just grateful that it hadn’t had to come to this until fairly late in his life. For now, telemarketing would almost pay his basic bills with few frills, indulgences or perks. And also for right now, The Home for Wayward Souls had shown him a way to achieve a type of fulfillment that no career could offer. He sought involvement with other people of like mind. Now it was beginning to look like there were some very interesting overlaps or apparent coincidences and circumstances that seemed to be drawing themselves together of their own volition.

From soccer moms to strippers and aged semi-respectable crack whores, real estate agents, mortgage brokers, automobile salesmen, yacht brokers to marine mechanics, electronics technicians, construction workers, waitresses with masters’ degrees and heterosexual waiters, overeducated shitheads who don’t appear to be capable of tying their own shoes, chefs and short-order cooks,  bartenders, middle-aged widows and divorcées, bright young kids who are trying to work through college and college professors who broke the wrong rules, senior citizens who couldn’t or didn’t want to have to live off just Medicare and Social Security, nouveau riche Aristocrats who hit the skids, anybody with enough skeletons in their closets to fill a neighborhood graveyard, but not enough to involve time in a federal penitentiary, (unless they are involved in the Witness Protection Program), African-Americans, Hispanics, Asians, Arabs, East, West and American Indians, and Carribeans of every stripe and stature, Caucasians with no imagination, focus, direction or purpose who just fell down the rabbit-hole,  all trying to get ahead, or get by until something better comes along, if there is a call center in your neighborhood, this is where they will land eventually, if they fall far enough. When the economy tanked, the pickings were never so good.

Then there are the infirm, the disabled, and the marginal who come to the call centers. Morbidly obese diabetics, chronic lungers, and the psychologically infirm, wheelchair-bound paraplegics and amputees, they roll, limp on crutches or half-crawl into work, dragging their oxygen and insulated containers for their insulin with them, or people just nuttier than squirrel shit that couldn’t possibly hold a job anywhere. Where else? A yard-and-a-half of ass hanging over both sides of the seats of their electric carts with nasal cannulas drooping over their upper lips like Frito-Bandito mustaches, they all have a workplace to call home, special parking and handicapped-friendly access to every corner of the building. “Give me your Tired, your Poor, your Huddled Masses yearning to breathe free; send these, the Tempest-tossed to Me…we’ll leave the light on.”

Sincerest Thanks Astraltravler

Like the Earth Mother, you are the source. In acting as a Liaison between parties of similar interests and tastes, your blog is a sort of human stew…I keep “cuming” back to find out what you’ve conjured next.