Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A Small World Gets a Whole Lot Bigger

 

 

Chapter Eleven

Elliott was overjoyed about the prospect of seeing Jed again.

Whether it was just a visit, or even possibly a longer stay, Jed was always welcome in Elliott’s world.

Jed’s arrival was a welcome surprise in a world where there was rarely any good news from the outside world.

It was the other voice that had completely unnerved him. Soft and feminine, Aimée’s voice sounded slightly timid, perhaps even a little shy. She knew how to be coy; she knew men liked that…sometimes; and even when she was being completely genuine, she knew how to make the most out of what could pass for the most subtle nuances of voice, facial expression, and body language.

Elliott had told her once that she should have been an actress.

“Who says I’m not?” she replied. “The whole world’s a stage…that we’re all going through….”

There are some people who are addicted to sensationalism and overacting just to be the center of attention…they’re just the kind of idiots that can give Drama a bad name.

The Theater was in Aimée’s blood. It was a part of her nature, and as she was trained in Method Acting, there was Method even in her madness.

What might have passed for pretense to the untrained eye was an instinct for angle, lighting, mood, setting and presentation, and she always hit her mark.

Even when she was startled, or genuinely terrified there was  a cinematic quality to it that guaranteed that you could not take your eyes off of her.

None of this was lost on Elliott, who was at that time a college professor who taught filmmaking, videography and photography to a group of students he affectionately referred to as the Gonzo Media Freaks.

Yes, she was beautiful. She was more than just pretty, but she was never able to see it in herself, and that gave her the unassuming vulnerability and genuine humility that made her so adorable…especially to Elliott.

She had always believed that it was Elliott who had ‘discovered’ the beauty queen that had been shyly lurking beneath the ugly duckling she had been led to believe she was.

She stumbled into Elliott’s office one afternoon, looking for one of his students, whom she had promised a ride back to the stockade where he was being incarcerated while he was allowed educational leave until he finished his sentence for drug possession with intent to sell.

They had both gone to North Miami Beach Senior High School together a few years before, and she had dated him for a very short while a long time ago.

She was married now, and completely ‘over’ Kenny, but she was also desperately trying to recover from her utter disappointment in her husband, who had further reinforced her feelings of inferiority and insecurity.

That morning, as he left the house, with his wife Jeannie following him out to the street, screaming like a fish-wife, Elliott realized what a terrible mistake he had made and resigned himself to the fact that it was only a matter of time….

Only  few hours later, this total stranger, who had wandered into his office looking for one of his students seemed as captivated by every word he spoke as he was by hers.

They chatted briefly about filmmakers from Brecht to Hitchcock to Kubrick, Tarantino, and Oliver Stone as well as a shared a mutual fascination for the screenwriting of Charlie Kaufman.

They were soon marveling in how similar each other’s frame of reference was.

They shared interests in writers like Hunter Thompson, and Tom Robbins as well as Kurt Vonnegut, Robert Heinlein and Dave Barry.

Indeed, they did not seem to need to try to impress each other, but the growing fascination over their shared interests and points of view was nothing short of exhilarating to the point of being breath-taking as Infatuation was overcome by the Crush they seemed destined to develop.

Both had been wallowing in Sarcasm, Facetiousness, Irony and Bitterness for so long that many of their best friends had begun to regard them as jaded and cynical.

Yet suddenly it was as if it was raining Enthusiasm, Optimism and Mutual Admiration right there inside Elliott’s office until they were both ‘mud luscious and puddle wonderful’ right up to their knees.

Elliott turned both ways as if to look over his shoulders as he leaned forward as if he was about to share something he did not want anyone else to hear.

“Are you married?” Aimée suddenly blurted, seemingly out of nowhere.

The remark so completely startled Elliott that he sat back, having completely forgotten what it was he had intended to say (but not his intent to kiss her).

After several very long seconds, he took a deep breath and said “Just barely….”

Two seconds later, Kenny burst into Elliott’s office, late and panting.

Spouting explanations and apologies, he suddenly stopped short and remarked “…so I guess you two have already met….” followed by a gratuitously flattering introduction regarding the genius of Elliott Monroe, abruptly veering off onto an almost tersely marginalized hand-off to Aimée which included an inappropriately familiar reference to their previous romantic relationship followed with “…by the way, how’s Jeannie?”

“As compared to what, Kenny?…the Lake of Fire?…she could make even  that seem like a bed and breakfast in rural Vermont…”

Aimée winced, and then winked at Elliott. “We have to go…I’ll see ya in the funny papers, kiddo.”

They got not even a glimpse of each other for more than two days after that, but Elliott found it almost impossible to think of anything, or anyone else in the interim. 

In the several weeks that followed, Elliott separated from his wife, and moved into Amy’s apartment, along with his brother, who had arrived just two days before on a visit, unexpectedly, not suspecting the impending turmoil.

Within a week, he returned to Indiana, once again disturbed by his elder brother’s instability and recklessness.

Within a couple weeks, they found a house, and Elliott and Aimée moved in together along with Joe, one of Elliott’s fellow faculty members, who was also looking for new digs.

They were madly in love with each other, and more than just a little bit mad in general.

As crazy as they were for each other, their general craziness was a breeding ground for quarrels, although in all fairness, it was usually over  Elliott’s behaviors, which had taken on an even more extreme quality that provoked Amy’s outbursts of anger, bordering on rage.

Truth was, they might have had a better chance of making it work if they hadn’t jumped right out of one marriage bed to another.

It seems to be an unwritten law that there needs to be an intermediate romantic fling that allows you to get over the previous relationship, and since both had gone “from one frying pan to another” they  both engaged in provocative and bizarre behaviors that would have terminated a lesser degree of commitment between two people.

Their fights often involved horrible emotional violence that seemed to be spawned as a test to see if each of them could forgive the unforgivable in each other.

Eventually Aimée moved into a place of her own, and they dated for another three and a half years. It seemed as if the separation had revived their passion for each other.

God was alive and Majic was afoot.

But suddenly Elliott went on the road with a band that hired him as a guitarist shortly after he had decided to terminate his association with Jed, and Aimée took off to go to the Pacific Northwest, which was about as far as she could get away from Elliott. She sent a few letters, which he never answered, and they didn’t see each other for over a year.

They got back into Miami within a week of each other, and spent an entire weekend in bed together, only to mutually decide it was over, but for no real reason.

It was Elliott who broached the subject, and Aimée agreed, albeit somewhat half-heartedly. Elliott lived to regret that moment many times over the years and suspected it might have turned out differently if he hadn’t turned away from her the way he did.

In the years that followed, he sometimes referred to her as “the ex-wife that I never married.”

That was years ago…several lifetimes and two more marriages ago.

Long before he ever met and married Chianna. Before his children were born and grown.

It was hard to imagine Jed and Aimée together. They knew each other of course, but they remained aloof and somewhat distant in each other’s company, but there was a pretty good explanation for that.

Jed considered himself too much of a gentleman to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend, despite the fact that neither Elliott or Aimée would have thought that to be a real deal-breaker with either of them.

Jed also made himself perfectly clear that he thought Aimée was much too “high-maintenance” (which she was).

Because Aimée felt rejected, she treated Jed dismissively and said she found him shallow, conceited, and selfish (which he was not) but Elliott did not bother to try to convince Aimée otherwise because although he would be reluctant to admit it, he felt a slight twinge of jealousy at the thought of Aimée and Jed having sex together.

Elliott knew that what would pass for jealousy in this case would be more due to insecurity; something he so despised in himself that he would embrace it with the same state of mind as a man who has decided to ‘stare down the train’ knowing it will mean certain death.

In those days, he never backed down, and he could lay down a pretty good bluff, not to mention that he already knew he possessed both the greatest luck and the shittiest judgement of any man alive.

It turned out to be something of a self-fulfilling prophesy that tended to lead Elliot to believe that it made little difference what decision he made because it was usually wrong, which prompted him to act on reckless impulse, knowing that somehow despite all the odds, he would prevail…or at least live through it.

The longer he considered it, the more sense it made. Probably some sort of cosmic coincidence threw the two of them together, and inevitably pure curiosity would overwhelm their better judgement…just the same sort of circumstances that occurred when Elliott and Aimée found themselves thrown together into an emotional maelstrom from which neither could escape;  both beautiful and tragic, that they undoubtedly would rememberer for the rest of their lives both fondly and sadly.

The few minutes that it took to remember and ponder this before Jed, and Aimée, arrived with Rebecca, and Leigh-Anne, whom he did not know were also with them.

It had seemed like the longest ten minutes of his life, and yet it seemed all too short to prepare himself for what was to come.

Any shock after hearing Aimée’s voice would be anti-climactic were they not also former lovers from Elliott’s past.

He had no idea of what to expect, but whatever it was, he could hardly wait to find out.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 13th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in 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.

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Once in a Blue Agave Moon chapter four: Location, location…LOCATION!

During the eighteenth century, the Lowlands Scots seemed to naturally gravitate to the Ohio and Tennessee Valleys and the Smokey Mountains region of the United States .
Australia was originally a penal colony for the United Kingdom.
Similarly, Florida was the lint trap for everything that got shook loose from the rest of the landmass of the contiguous forty-eight states of the continent.
It hangs like a huge semi-flaccid uncircumcised penis, far too laid back to protrude upward very far into the Atlantic Ocean, more of a “Show/her” than “Grower” and complacent enough to just engorge itself into the warmer tropical waters, also attributing to the belief that “the lower the latitude, the stronger the sex drive.”
Everyone who comes to Florida has a cover story for why they moved here, but secretly, right before they left wherever they came from, something happened somewhere else, and it just seemed like everything was so much easier there.
They share a heritage of escapism which tends to create a mindset that remains a prevailing theme of those recently immigrated.
There is such a thing as the mentality, or state of mind of the founding culture of the location that is shared by a majority of the residents who were descendants of smugglers or wreckers; real full-time professional criminals who are trying to just lay low for awhile, vs. the full-time amateur criminals of convenience and circumstance, such as junkies and addicts, as well as every level of drug dealer, the “musicians” and “artists” who patronized them, whores, gigolos, long-and-short con men (and women), real-estate speculators, rain-makers, lightning-rod salesmen, snake-oil purveyors and of course, telemarketers, all of whom constitute a group best described as “casual criminals” and have as much regard for the “Law of Man” as an alligator.
And of course, first the Cubans, and the Haitians, seeking political asylum, the Colombians (for a whole host of varied reasons) and then the Mexicans, Guatemalans, and the Dominicans.
Almost nothing is manufactured in Florida…no factory jobs here to speak of, except the few sugar processors around Lake Okeechobee that haven’t already been phased out, and of course Motorola, boat and marine accessories and a few furniture manufacturers.
Most business in Florida jumps more or less directly from agribusiness (especially oranges and grapefruits) to the service industry/hospitality services, food service, entertainment, technical support for local businesses as well as the ubiquitous health service professionals; paramedics, nurses, doctors and patient care technicians and nursing homes, senior communities, and intensive care wards hence the moniker “Florida is God’s Waiting Room”….
Eventually, the glut of cheap relatively desperate labor for displaced ex-pats of every stripe resulted in the establishment of telemarketing centers in Florida.
It also meant that many who immigrated there were fleeing to avoid prosecution, or alimony or just a bad marriage in general. Even the cities were not as crowded or overwhelming as up north; people trying to get away from something seeking asylum or escape, where they believed the opportunities were like ripe, low-hanging fruit, like some latter-day version of The Grapes of Wrath.
No unions, fewer licensing and regulations, less and no state taxes.
So Florida, much like Australia, the Smokey Mountains, and California became a haven for outcasts, criminals, and ne’er do wells of every stripe looking for escape to a better life…”your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Send these the tempest-tossed to me…”
(we’ll leave the light on…).

Once In a Blue Agave Moon

chapter One

Elliott Monroe awoke to the sounds of the generators starting.
As he briefly lay there in bed, he thought about how much the world had changed in the last eighteen months.
Over two years ago, he had read about how cyber-terrorists were launching over thirty thousand attacks against the United States and their allies every month…without success…but…
Much like the theories of quantum mechanics and the origin of the earth, eventually anything can happen, and like the monkeys and the typewriters, eventually they discovered the codes that were capable of deciphering the encryption associated with the operating systems of every computer on the planet; banking, defense, security, even the internet itself.
The consequences were catastrophic and swift.
They had not only managed to withdraw all the virtual monies out of all the North and South American, European, African, Swiss, and Japanese banks in the world, they had also placed a “doomsday” virus into the operating systems that caused them to destroy themselves, and their hardware, as well as all the records of all the accounts.
And when back-up systems and replacement programs were installed, the rest of the internet was so polluted with the Doomsday Virus that they were quickly rendered useless as well.
It took several days for even the best run operations to re-start, only to discover there were no funds in the accounts shortly before they too self-destructed.
Even if you had a printed statement from your bank, they were not being honored because there were no available funds to pay anybody anything.
It was believed that Doomsday was not even a single virus, but rather a series of interlocking programs that spread rapidly through any device that used the internet at all…even if only to use the National Observatory’s atomic clock for time reference standards.
Cars that used Onstar or satellite radio would not even start, or stopped within minutes; some crashed. Planes fell out of the skies all over the world.
Several nuclear power plants melted down. Nuclear missiles went haywire.
Some of the programs had been perfected for years before the comprehensive attack was orchestrated.
It affected the News services so badly that the parties involved had to resort to circulating printed material to even take credit for the attack.
More than ten years earlier, the terrorists had begun a plan that was only waiting for the success of the computer viruses for their initiation. They were in no hurry.
The terrain of the area surrounding the Fort Knox Army base is riddled with underground caverns and streams that permitted tunneling through an area over five miles long from nearby Bardstown to the United States Bullion Depository at Fort Knox with a minimum of true excavation.
By a similarly ingenious plot, the mazes of sewers, communications tunnels and underground passageways in Manhattan (some dating prior to the revolutionary war) allowed near enough access to the Federal Reserve Bank, the only bullion depository larger than the one at Fort Knox.
Both tunnels ran the last five hundred feet deep below the vaults, working slowly and sporadically to better avoid detection.
The morning of the discovery of the cyber-attacks, at least twenty “dirty” or “salted” nuclear bombs detonated by two stolen B-61 Mod 11 nuclear “bunker busters” and a pair of ten-megaton hydrogen bombs of the Teller-Ulam design from former Soviet sources and several other devices of either Korean, Iranian, Chinese, Pakistani or Indian design under the United States Bullion Depository at Fort Knox and the Federal Reserve Bank of Manhattan.
Both locations enabled the surrounding bedrock to amplify the effects of the shock waves from the blast and the combined pressure and heat from the thermonuclear blast not only compromised both vaults, but also severely contaminated them with radioactivity.
The heat and pressure was so intense that the other “dirty” or “salted” devices were combined in a chain-reaction not normally anticipated in any previous counter-terrorism models, that assumed conventional detonation of plutonium and uranium, with no concomitant fission or fusion.
The terrorists had no desire to survive the attacks, so no shielding or protective casings were used to contain the radioactivity of the “dirty” or “salted” bombs. It was a suicide mission, which made it that much easier to accomplish.
“All the gold in Fort Knox” (and the Federal Reserve Bank of Manhattan) was now radioactive. The fact that they had been entirely symbolic ever since they had been stored there really had little bearing on the perception of the people of the world.
(Apparently, the terrorists had seen the Movie “Goldfinger,” although they were not interested in any financial gain; after all, within two days they possessed all the net worth of the all major powers of the world.)
They already had plenty of money, but the real point was to take it away from their enemies.
It is estimated that the gold at the United States Bullion Depository (aka “Ft. Knox’) is worth about 175 billion dollars. This is believed to represent 2.5 percent of all the gold ever refined in all human history. The US GDP is estimated at approximately eighteen trillion dollars, and the United States federal budget is set at approximately 103% of the GDP.
The attack was predominately a way of doing severe damage to the confidence of the American people in the liquidity of their government.
After all, most of the net worth of anyone or any entity is based on a combination of faith in what amounts to “virtual money,” rather than cash and the mutual recognition of what constitutes value.
Between credit margins, and speculation, in a cashless society most people rarely ever touch any “real” money. Paper money is based on faith and a promise, but keep in mind that when the economy went from gold to silver certificates to federal reserve notes they no longer bore the promise “payable on demand”.
And let’s face it, you can’t eat gold or silver if you are hungry. The value of gold or precious metals or gems are based on their scarcity, and almost since the beginning of time we have been hypnotized by our desire for them, rather than in any true intrinsic value per se.
And to the radical Islamics, the result of the end of Western civilization was their precise goal. No more Hollywood (or Bollywood), no more televangelism, no more beer or whiskey commercials, no more live lingerie models, no more TV, no more Western aggression; Zionism as a world power would be crushed; no more internet porn and no more Christmas specials on television. No publicly available electricity in the West.
In just two explosions they had bombed the Western Hemisphere into the stone age.
At least, that was the mythology that had become the accepted explanation. Most of the stories that were passed from one person to another verbally were based on speculation, rumors and whatever prejudice, preoccupation, or agenda of the teller.
A few amateur radio operators kept up their own news nets, but no one knew what to believe and if you were smart, you took it all with a grain of salt; after all, no matter what gossip you heard, most of it had no real bearing on your own current state of affairs.
They were all too often just the idle talk of the frightened and the doomed, who would have nothing else to say once the lives they had known evaporated.
North Korea had very little to lose; their governmental leaders lived lavishly, but the mass of people lived in squalor, in silence, and in the dark. Previous satellite photographs of the island of Korea showed a brightly lit south at night, but above the thirty-eighth parallel only a few scattered lights showed anywhere in North Korea.
India and China were similarly affected, but to a lesser degree. For the desperately impoverished masses who had so little to loose, it was a zero sum game.
And perhaps most importantly, No country seemed to have much need to muck about with the rest of the world, which for the most part had lapsed into complete isolationism.
Or so it seemed, until each of the countries participating in the attack on America and its allies tried to double-cross the other. They quickly rendered each other helpless and crippled with a combination of nuclear and conventional weapons.
First it was Russia and China, then India vs Pakistan, and everybody versus Korea.
The Moslems were not bound by national boundary lines, but religion and culture, and initially they stood together. In fact, it was later estimated that the Moslems had actually instigated the conflicts between the other countries with feigned mutual acts of sabotage.
But eventually even the Moslem-ruled countries turned on each other. The same mind-set that had sabotaged Thomas E. Lawrence (of Arabia)’s effort to unify the mid-east was still in effect.
Malaysia was the first to fall; they were the weakest, and the least unified as far as Islam. Once that chain-reaction started, it would have been very difficult to tell who “won”.
Gandhi had stated that “an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind” but obviously, he was wrong…because…
“…In the land of the blind, the one-eyed is king”…and that last guy with only one eye could easily escape the last blind guy…(but if you are surrounded by radioactive glass everywhere you look with that one good eye, it’s not much consolation).
Perhaps even more fortunately each had sufficient intel about each other as to quickly and almost surgically attack each other so as to limit any counter-attacks by anyone, so other than some very localized fall-out, it had almost no effect on North America.
Perhaps ignorance is bliss…border disputes in Eastern or Western Europe or Asia had no real affect on someone living in Idaho…or the Florida Everglades.
Elliott had heard stories of people who still chose to live in the cities, bloodthirsty cannibals, burglars, rapists and bandits feeding like vultures on a rotting carcass that was already nearly stripped to the bones.
The trick was to find a place where only certain individuals could survive, and even thrive in the midst of world chaos. The desert, the mountains, the deepest woods, the most isolated coastal regions and their islands as well as the few swamps in North America…and the Florida Everglades, which were really more like a flooded savanna, hence the Seminole expression “River of Grass”.
Virtually all of what constituted an economy was now based upon barter, trade…and theft.
One thing that had not changed was that all too often keeping what you already have can be more difficult than getting it in the first place… “the same as it ever was….”
Those who had something of useful purpose as well as those who could do or make because of what they knew faired much better than those highly trained aristocrats whose careers and knowledge or training were so specialized that they had no survival skills at all.
It was a very bad time for lawyers, public officers, (like judges or government officials), CEO’s, any level of vice-president of much of anything, travel agents, airline stewardesses, motivational speakers, fitness trainers, life coaches, investment bankers, stock brokers, event planners, and pretty much anyone dependent upon performing services for someone else.
State governments were fucked, but the rich and privileged swine who had manipulated them all along just by virtue of what they still possessed; as long as they could continue to barter their influence over goods and commodities, at least had a chance.
The police almost immediately took over most of organized crime, and split what they couldn’t steal outright with those whose mutual interests might similarly prosper in deference to outright gang warfare, which nonetheless still flourished on a regular basis.
Our military forces faced mass desertions, but those who remained managed to maintain a small elite group of forces who operated much like Mosby’s Rangers during the Civil War, ‘’requisitioning” food and supplies as they deemed necessary. All the armed services bases that remained open had to become self-sufficient by hunting, plowing, planting and farming almost every inch of their surrounding land near their bases, including the livestock they now tended.
Elliot was fortunate enough to have worked out a deal with a group of similarly minded individuals who owned a large tract of land that bordered on the Florida Everglades; mostly dry and wet savannas with patches of scrubby timber and wooded areas.
They all had hunted wild hog and deer on those lands together at various times throughout the years. They all possessed and represented a wide range of useful skills. Most of them were what had been called “trades people”.
Most people would have derisively referred to them as survivalists.
Although they themselves had no idea what would precipitate what some would come to call The End of Days, they knew that eventually, something would happen.
They were essentially autonomous, and lived relatively well in an otherwise dystopian and dangerous world.
It was as if the tables had been turned.
Most city-dwellers as well as most suburban commuters not only could not survive outside their protected communities, but they would have little desire to live without the conveniences and trappings that had already enslaved them.
If you can’t seem to get what you think you want, learn to love what you have.

Chazz Vincent

March 19th. 2016

 

On Letting Go, Part XI: Blame and Excuses

We judge others by their actions, but we judge ourselves by our intentions.

How many people do you know who would describe themselves as satisfied in terms of their lives?

The paradigm that seems to drive many people’s lives is “One’s grasp should exceed their reach.”

I am no stranger to the concept, but I have seriously marred some of the best stages or phases of my life due to my inability to remember to smell the roses while I am still in the garden.

No matter what I am in the midst of doing or trying to achieve, I am infused with this sense of Angst and Frustration because I find it very difficult to enjoy the satisfaction of a job well done…because it will never be quite perfectly executed….and because there’s always more….

I have a way of focusing too much attention on some real or perceived hidden flaw or imperfection in my work, or the tapestry of my life as a film noire.

For as long as I can remember, it has been my artistic expressions, whether in Music, Art. Photography, Film, Video, Multi-Media, or Writing that have been the driving force in my life, my purpose…my raison d’être.

 

To me, the activities of daily living are more like watching the Dead doing the St. Vitus Dance to waves of endorphins and polypeptides.

My Love and Sex lives reflect the same preoccupation with artistic, philosophical and creative expression…(needless to say, often to the chagrin of those who aspire to love and understand me).

My attention seems forever drawn to what could be somewhere over the next hill.

Yet years later it will seem like a grand romantic adventure to which I wish I could return…so why am I so unhappy?

Many years ago, a very dear lifetime friend said “I sometimes think that even on the clearest and most perfect days, your attention will be drawn to a dark cloud off on the horizon, saying ‘…eventually, we are going to have to deal with that…’ “.

At the time, I took it as a compliment to my foresight and vision.

It wasn’t until years later that I realized that she was lamenting on how I could ruin a moment of bliss with pessimism and negativity.

I have known her almost all of my adult life. We started as lovers but her lifelong friendship is unique to my life experiences with the exception of my wife. Only one other female relationship (or marriage) has ever lasted for more than six years.

She is the most successful person I know, and seems to possess a quiet satisfaction that I envy, despite the fact that she is no stranger to tragedy or disappointment.

…But back to the original point.

Several decades ago, I found myself proclaiming that I felt that it was time to get serious about my life and make something of myself, and perhaps achieve the satisfaction of artistic and financial success, a vow I seem to be compelled to renew every few years.

Money comes, money goes; jobs come and jobs go, but the work of one’s life remains. For me, my Art is my Life.

With the exception of my current compulsion for writing, my creative life has been in a flat spiral ever since I became preoccupied by some measure of financial security (which was almost completely fear-based). It has left me broke and nearly despondent at times.

(Just as it seems as if the digressions will never end, the snake bites its own tail…the Uroburos returns….)

Although I have been frequently led astray by others, and distracted from my real or imagined goals and dreams, their part in the failed processes was minor, compared to my own incredibly bad judgment.

There is a word for sound judgment, and it is referred to as Sapience. It is the cognate from which the term homo sapiens is derived.

Without it, we are just a bunch of Talking Monkeys, and I am their spokesperson.

Whenever I find myself beset by “…a sea of troubles…” and contemplating how to “…put an end to them…”, I meditate.

This last time around, my focus was on “Who am I?…”Who is asking this question?”

I am the one who is tired of singing only torch songs.

I am the one who is tired of settling for less.

I am the one who is tired of doing things I do not love to do.

I am the one who is tired of withholding my candor to simply keep the peace I never seem to find anyway.

I am the one who is tired of not being myself, or not trusting the results of my own actions to take me where they will. Better to die gloriously in battle, roaring like a lion than to be led whimpering like a lamb to slaughter.

I am the one who vows to embrace the results.

If I blame anyone else for the dissatisfaction I feel, I am once again relinquishing control over my life. It is only in accepting responsibility for my present condition that I can exercise some degree of self-determination.

Excuse-mongering and blame are like a co-dependent dysfunctional couple who never seem to be able to stop making excuses for themselves and blaming each other for their own misery.

Next time you feel defensive and find yourself declaring that something was not your fault, better think again….

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, charted by unrealistic expectations and lined with lame excuses.

The I in Failure comes well before the U.

Of course it is always your own fault ultimately, whether it be a failed marriage, a career, or your dreams, but there are so many factors (aside from poor judgment) beyond your control from which there is No Escape that we might as well learn as early as possible to view our lives with enough Loving-Kindness and Acceptance to learn from our mistakes and move on to make new mistakes as we learn to forgive so we can forgive to learn.

However…when I was a rescue paramedic, more than once I heard statements like:

“There I was, just standing there minding my own business (in a bar, or on a street corner in Ft. Lauderdale or Key West)…and from out of nowhere, this guy comes up and….”

or:

“I was trying to reach the top shelf, but the chair wasn’t quite high enough, so I stacked a couple telephone books on top of each other and suddenly…”

or:

“No I don‘t want to press charges…he was just drunk…I know he loves me and he’s the father of two of my children, and I got no place else to go…it was my fault for nagging him about losing his job…” (for being drunk) “…and I don’t work…because…and….”

Who hasn’t heard: “I just have so much love to give…I can’t understand why I am so alone.”

(Much of it is not beyond our control.)

I’ve heard it said that at least seventy-five per cent of what happens to us is random; whether you were born a Kennedy or an orphan in Calcutta is beyond your control, but it is what you do with the other twenty-five per cent that determines what will become of each of us.

I have a strong suspicion that it is our past and present Karma that determines the first seventy-five per cent. We just don’t recognize the connection.

The dog chases the bone.

It is said that the elephant is the only animal that can remember all of his past lives, and stands alone contemplating his Karma.

There are no good excuses, and blame is what distracts us from that realization. It is the difference between fault-finding and trouble-shooting.

The sooner you learn to forgive yourself, the easier it is to forgive others and accept responsibility for your life and your condition.

You don’t have to be kind, but you don’t have to be cruel either.

Just be real.

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

10/09/2015

 

 

 

 

THFWS & TTM’s: The Final Chapter?…You be the Judge….

The Final Chapter?…You be the Judge….

(Show extreme close-up of the eye of Raul, the Talking Cuban Tree-Frog. As the camera zooms out he begins his narration for Intergalactic Geographic while clinging to a branch outside the Sanctuary.)

“Despite the end of the siege, the courtroom drama, and the assassination of Frederick, life in the Home for Wayward Souls continues at the same breath-taking pace that has become de rigueur for longer than anybody can seem to remember. And it seems as if they wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Everyone is so closely connected to everyone else within the community that without introducing any of their own drama, there is more than ample mutual stimulation, validation and support which enables its members to exist within a sort of well (or treasury) of souls, springing from the ‘world soul’…the guf…so that each of its members remains self-sustaining, vibrantly alive and purposeful.”

“Because the Chimps and the Bonobos no longer needed to be separated, the interactions between the two tribes were beginning to take on a decidedly personal aspect as numerous romantic relationships were blossoming within the compound.”

“The influences of both Frederick and The Knowledge had been considerable, and there was no real competition for either food or territory. They had become united by way of a common enemy, and learned co-operation by virtue of common cause”

“And just as surely as the smaller female Bonobos found the masculine allure of the larger and more dominant male Chimps quite irresistible, as the saying goes “For every pot, there’s a lid” and there are plenty of females everywhere in this world, as well as several others with an appetite for domination of submissive males, accounting for numerous female Chimps courting the smaller male Bonobos.”

“Of course, there was no guarantee that any of the Chimp/Bonobo matings would result in the genetic mutations that Frederick experienced, including the doubling of the SRGAP2 gene induced by The Knowledge, or Frederick’s genetic DNA resemblance to Millennium Man (Orrorin tugenensis) and Homo habilis, or the eventual resolution of the disparity between the 24 genes of Chimps and Bonobos and the 23 genes of Man.”

“Although the separate 2a and 2b genes of the Pan primates eventually consolidated into the single Human gene 2 configuration (thereby accounting for the apparent “extra” gene of the Pan primates), there was no guarantee that any of the hybrids that were later to be born would be compatible with future Human additions to their gene pool, should they even occur. Indeed, Frederick may have been a genetic anomaly. Similar future mutations might not occur again for an indeterminate length of time.”

“And Evolutionary Time is very unpredictable. A Quantum Leap can occur in one generation, but it may not be self-replicating, and it might take hundreds, even thousands of generations for that leap to take place, and incremental evolution as a result of natural selection and environmental demands is notoriously slow.”

“But of course, the twins might well represent the future “Mitochondrial Adam and Eve” of a new race of sentient, self-aware, and increasingly intelligent Hominid primates capable of mating with either Humans or Chimps and Bonobos, possibly resulting in future pairings between “proto-humans” and “proto-chimps” much as early Man did.”

“Since it would be ill-advised to mate siblings, there would be a necessity that some new genes be introduced. Even if the twins only mated with Chimps and Bonobos, their gene pool will never be the same again.”

“But given the extraordinary beauty of both of them, there was a very good possibility that future human donations would also result, possibly from other members of the inner circle, or even artificial insemination. If so, the next Great Leap Forward would be inevitable.”

“Merle currently possessed enough of the Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil to support a congregation of one hundred thousand for over five hundred years on a very regular basis (…just in case…”), although its existence would remain a closely guarded secret, at least for the time being.”

“Although he had voluntarily resigned from his research consultant’s job with Merrick when he first began his participation in the trial to avoid the immanent dismissal that Mark, Darcy and Charles had experienced allegedly “due to business needs”, if need be, he could work for any other manufacturer he chose, or manufacture it clandestinely on the premises”

“There was no longer any financial necessity that any of them take employment with anyone else. They were not just rich…they had become wealthy…or rather, their non-profit incorporation had amassed so much money that their accountants and attorneys were on full-time retainer just to find ways to spend the money on their chartered pursuits of higher consciousness and polyamory.”

“It was they in fact who were now providing employment to selected individuals who were recruited by invitation only, thereby helping to insure that they remained connected to people of like mind and spirit.” 

“And there was no shortage of work for their selected causes to give everyone an outlet and a connection.” 

“To this end, they were also beginning a screening process to determine the suitability of selected candidates to receive ‘enlightenment’, although they were just as hesitant to obtain their informed consent to take The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil as they were to administer it without their knowledge.”

“Because of the legal implications, secrecy was an absolute must. They fully anticipated to be infiltrated by the FBI, DEA. or even the CIA and NSA. Although Stan would be immensely valuable in helping spot infiltrators and CI’s, even the remote possibility of a disgruntled parishioner reporting the mere existence of The Knowledge would be disastrous.”

“Indiscriminate administration of the Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil might not result in the spiritual evolution of all of Mankind, given Man’s inestimable capacity to pervert and subvert even the noblest, loftiest and most benign of ideals or goals.”

“The fact that the DOD spent millions of dollars trying to turn the Frisbee into a weapon would be a good example. Also, ‘Knowledge is power’ and power corrupts….”

“Also it is doubtful that any of the present standing governments of the world would desire a self-realized, self-actualized and enlightened population that would be able to see beyond the devious ploys so commonly used to manipulate the general public, except for perhaps the Dutch and some provinces of Canada.”

“They all realized that they stood on the brink of a new existence, and that the likelihood of oppression from an almost endless list of potential enemies would be great unless tremendous discretion was exercised by all parties, even with Stanley Linderman protecting their best interests and continued safety.”

“Merrick Pharmaceuticals, the parent company of PharmaCorp eventually announced that they would no longer be using Chimps or Bonobos for medical research. After extensive isolation and testing for disease or genetic damage, they were retired and donated to The Home for Wayward Souls.”

“Shortly after that, public outrage over the excesses of PharmaCorp’s business practices acting as program administrators for the vast majority of insurers resulted in sweeping legislative reforms designed to prevent them from extorting and victimizing the public by denying claims, unfair regulation and monopolization of trade, providing sub-standard foreign-produced generic versions of medications of questionable therapeutic value, and collusion between PharmaCorp, the Pharmaceutical manufacturers and insurance companies.”

“Huge fines and lawsuits for damages as well as jail time for numerous executives resulted. Simultaneous actions taken by federal, as well as state’s Attorneys General triggered a bloodbath not seen since Mark Anthony first stuck it to Julius Caesar, and once it started, it seemed that the line would never end.”

“Much like the prosecution of organized crime, once one of them rolled over and turned state’s evidence against the company, the domino effect ensured that there would be no place to hide, and even the most top-ranking executives would not be able to pay off their accusers.”

“THFWS as part of their chartered missions began to initiate recognition of Repetitive Thought Injury by the medical and scientific communities, as well as other inhumane practices in the workplace in general and telemarketers in particular.”

“The logic was that if they could get it recognized as an injury, then if insurance companies had to start paying claims, they would pressure the employers to provide working conditions not to be considered as primary causative agents.” 

“Not surprisingly, the effect on the economy was a significant decrease in health-care costs nationwide as major medical insurance administrators followed the lead forcibly set in place for the pharmaceutical industry.”

“Since the huge windfall profits of the administrative companies went largely to executives and stockholders who did little to stimulate the economy except by conspicuous consumption, (which never does much of anything to benefit the general population) they had more disposable income to spend on items that resulted in more jobs in other industries, as well as the perception of an improved quality of life.”

“And since the wages paid by PharmaCorp represented just about the minimum wage that any reasonably literate professional would accept, and as there was no need for massive lay-offs because once the company was forced to operate on an ethical basis, the enrollments dramatically increased along with the public trust, even more agents were needed to act as patient care advocates in customer services.”

“Mark and Darcy took on the daunting task of educating all the primates within the congregation. Since they were all computer-literate on a limited basis, it would also give them ample opportunities to conduct behavioral research on their learning, perception and behavior as well as the developmental advances of Adam and Eve (the unanimous choice for the names of the twins).”

“Because of the necessity of supporting the burgeoning telephone call center related to the television, video and internet interests of THFWS and Kali’s website as well as the recordings of the ArcAngels there were plenty of opportunities at better salaries with better working conditions for ex-pat employees of PharmaCorp’s marketing division, which was eventually closed down in South Florida.”

“Even more surprisingly, a few of the Bonobos agreed to work as telephone operators at the Sanctuary on an entirely voluntary basis for behavioral research but it was understood and agreed that there would be ABSOLUTELY NO TELEMARKETING PRACTICES ALLOWED.”

“So many questions are yet to be answered, and so many situations unresolved, that there can be little doubt that this is far from the end of this saga, but for now, we close this chapter until news of further developments present themselves.”

“Until then, this is Raul, your reporter for Intergalactic Geographic. So long until we meet again.”

THFWS & TTM: The Twins

The Twins

When Darcy’s water broke, everyone but Darcy, Mark, Anastasia, and the midwife got out of the pool, preferring to lend their support and encouragement from the sidelines.

Episiotomies are the most frequently performed unnecessary operation in the United States (depending upon your opinion on circumcision), followed closely by cesarean section because doctors are simply not willing to take the time necessary to properly prepare a woman to birth children in the way that they have done since the beginning of time.

And because time is money, greed is the prime motivator in those decisions followed closely by laziness, a lack of imagination and an unwillingness to embrace a multi-disciplined, holistic mode of therapy.

It is never easy to deliver twins, and they are considered a “high-risk” case at best, but if there are no other complications, midwives will better prepare a woman to deliver just by virtue of the way in which they facilitate the effacement and dilation of the labia, and vulva, thereby rendering a tear-free delivery…in most cases, which was why the Neonatologist was also present…for all the other complications that could possibly arrive.

Cutting to pre-empt tearing is like amputating a limb to prevent a future break that may never occur. The simple fact that the suturing done to stitch the episiotomy frequently results in painful postpartum sex, sometimes for years seems to escape most doctors, who never feel a thing.

Anastasia had met Kat(rima) while they were studying together in nursing school. They became fast friends during some very fast times, but eventually Kat dropped out to study acupuncture and become a midwife. She had also delivered both of Anastasia’s children under water.

Darcy had watched her youngest sister being born at home on the kitchen table because her mother could not afford health care insurance. She had come from a family of commercial fishermen in tidewater Virginia and most of her early life had been spent learning how to “make do” on next to nothing just to survive.

To suddenly be the primary focus for any needs she or her children could ever want for with money no object was to feel gratefully empowered in ways she had never before known.

It takes a very special kind of woman to pull and stretch the surrounding flesh of the vagina sufficiently to accommodate the delivery of a child. If you have ever been privileged to witness a birth with the assistance of a midwife and compare it to any hospital delivery you’ve ever seen you quickly realize  how nurturing and baby-friendly the former is compared to the industrial atmosphere of a hospital delivery.

Many women may tend to feel uncomfortable touching another woman in such an intimate manner as is done by the midwife, but compared to almost all males, they are generally more nurturant and intimate with each other, perhaps by nature, or perhaps because our culture does not embrace homophobia as tenaciously among females as by the generally fearful, self-conscious, strutting, posturing roosters that the males of our species are so often want to make of themselves, especially in their early youth.

Regardless, some women are also programmed for nurturance from a very early age and Kat was one of them. She loved women as much as she did men and she fearlessly and self-consciously embraced an inborn commitment to caring for anyone who deserved her attentions.

And in all fairness, if an OB/GYN doctor were to perform the same procedures in a hospital setting, they would probably be up on charges before they left the parking lot.

Discretion is the lesbian consigliere of Valor.

Meanwhile, most of the Ancient Ones had arrived. The spirits of Lukumi, Los Guerreros, Roti, The Dark Mother (Kali’s almost accidental namesake), Ganesh, and seemingly countless others either sat perched upon the peak of the roof, on the branches of the surrounding trees, or were joining Darcy, Mark, Anastasia and Kat, the midwife in the water, which is one of the most amazing and provocative ways to experience their presence.

Water that contains the usual minerals and electrolytes found in either municipal systems or well water is an excellent conductor of electro-magnetic energy, especially if it contains amniotic fluids, and a number of  the Ancient Ones liked to playfully caress, poke and prod those who can allow themselves to be open to the sensations they impart as they flash back and forth across the pool like dolphins preparing to tail-walk over the water.

As the contractions came closer and closer together and her dilation increased, the cauldrons began to boil and steam and it was at just about that same time when Boop-Oopa-Doop (aka “Betty”) flew in and landed in a Key Lime tree next to the fires beneath the cauldrons.

“What’s up, Toots?” she asked of no one in particular.

Almost in unison, they waved and replied “Boop-Oopa-Doop!” She was widely known throughout the multi-verse, and generally well-liked by all.

As a fellow embezzler of time and space, She was quite adept in arriving precisely when what appeared to be a portent of something spectacular was just about to happen.

The visions that appeared in the cauldrons were similar to those that had foretold of Darcy’s ordained place within the primary group.

It was the image of Darcy surrounded by thousands of primates doing the Bandaloop Dance at sunset. This time, there was a melody that could be heard by everyone, yet recognized by no one, except the primates outside the Sanctuary, and perhaps Darcy, who also began to hum along with it.

The ArchAngels, who were watching and listening to the images and sounds projected and amplified from the cameras quickly incorporated it into their song cycle while the saxophones began to answer and the rest of the band reinforced the melody with harmonizations and counterpoint of their own.

In the area beneath the screens, the Primates had assembled to perform the Bandaloop Dance in unison with the video feed from the cauldrons. They never seemed to need any coaching; it was as if it was something native to their instincts.

As the singing and dancing reached a crescendo, Darcy delivered the first of the twins, a vigorously healthy screaming female, followed in due time by an equally beautiful and perfect male.

There was no video coverage of the delivery, but everyone who witnessed it poolside fell into silence as they each recognized the uniqueness of the twins.

“Unique” is one of the most frequently misused words of the last fifty years, but in this case it was no hyperbole, because in the entire history of the earth, there have never been two children born who possessed the appearance of these two children.

The female was thankfully much less hirsute than the male and absolutely gorgeous to behold, but there was a decidedly simian appearance to her which was not so much apparent until one saw the two of them together, because the male was undoubtedly the offspring of Frederick, who was himself the only one of his kind.

Aside from a slightly exaggerated supra-orbital ridge, somewhat longer than average arm length compared to their overall length and a little more space between the bottom of the nose and the top of the upper lip they looked very much like any other human infant, except for the feet, which were structurally identical to those of the Chimpanzee. This meant that both of the twins had four opposable thumbs each.

This would prove to be the beta upgrade to human feet for these children, who quickly learned to use them like a second pair of hands whenever their shoes were off, which never happened in public, lest  it give away the identity of their father.

But perhaps most importantly, their spines and pelvis, as well as the alignment of their hips were consistent with bi-pedal ambulation. Also, their foramen magnums were located more anteriorly at the bases of the skulls, consistent with a vertical stance directly above the spine.

Given the genetic diversity of the human animal, their appearance was surprisingly human.

The eventual legal decision as to whether or not they be considered Hominid would be prolonged as much as possible for their protection, but eventually, after they are given the opportunity to establish the authenticity of their genetic structure, as young adults it would become their time to be recognized as who they really were.

Since they were not born in a hospital, although their footprints were recorded and notarized by their attorneys, no publicly accessible documents would be filed unless absolutely necessary.

Because the dearth of research, evidence and testimony of Frederick was so well documented, he alone would best serve as the face, the voice, the words and the ideas of a truly self-aware, sentient being demanding his rights to recognition of his ascension to a higher level than was previously judged as at least adequate by the gatekeepers of the most exclusive country club in the animal kingdom called Humanity.

Once his case was won in court, the twins would have their day of recognition and autonomy without outside interference.

It was uncanny however in the way in which their facial expressions were the visage of Frederick’s. Not something one could quite put their finger on to tell of the identify of the father unless you knew Frederick well enough to recognize the similarities.

Although their skin was quite pale, their hair was jet black, but finer than that of the other great apes. Their features looked beautifully exotic…perhaps slightly Asian, or even African or some allele of the North American aboriginals; refined, yet primal, with very large, dark brown eyes. They were strangely beautiful, and once you began to look at them, it was almost impossible to avert your eyes from their soulful faces.

To a casual observer they appeared to be beautiful normal humans in nearly all aspects, but given the transcendent understanding between the members of the group, it was immediately common knowledge as to the paternity of both of them, though no one spoke directly of it that night, because they already knew that everyone else knew.

The remarkable similarity of the genes and chromosomes between Chimpanzees, Gorillas, and Orangutans with human genetic DNA had enabled a union of Frederick’s sperm and two of Darcy’s eggs, despite a long-successful tubal ligation.

Vigorously demanding their evolutionary participation in the replication of their currently unique species, they out swam all the other combined seeds deposited into Darcy’s love canal that evening, just as two eggs had also almost inexplicably made a quantum leap past what was believed to be an impenetrable barrier.

There have been legends and rumors of unions with either male or female human participants and simians throughout the last fifty years or more, but no surviving evidence and great hatred, disgust and violent hostility are often expressed at even the mention of such offspring.

A doctor in Malaysia for instance who allegedly intended to artificially inseminate two female orangutans with human sperm more than forty years ago was murdered, and his laboratory and domestic facilities burned to the ground along with the two female orangutans.

A mere rumor possibly fabricated by poachers that Diane Fossi was copulating with the gorillas whom she was studying likewise may have prompted her murder.

The subject of interspecies erotica is likely to invoke images of Tijuana donkey-shows, women from Amsterdam copulating with huge canines or sheepherders and hillbillies in general. Once the sniggering and fascination over the perceived degradation of the human subjects stops (shortly after the titillation factor wears off), the tendency is to get hautily self-righteous and violent.

As disgusted and revolted as so many claim to be, few can or will avert their eyes once they should witness it.

The book of Leviticus states that if a man shall lay with an animal, that they both shall be killed. It seems unfathomable that the ancient Hebrews believed that somehow the animal was complicit in the commission of the act, but then again, the book of Leviticus is harsh, which may explain why it is such a favorite of Pentecostals and other similarly bloodthirsty and judgmental fundamentalist Christians.

If you stop and think about it, the only true fundamentalist Christians would be the Messianic Jews who were the descendants of either the authors or scribes of the early new testament and the Dead Sea scrolls.

Ironically, it should be noted that some of the most dangerous fundamentalists would be the modern-day ultra right-wing sex-and-pleasure-hating American fundamentalist Christians, who generally want no part whatsoever of Judaism (including the Old Testament) unless it justify self-serving, vindictive, self-righteous wrath, punishment and judgmental retribution. (Muslim Jihadists notwithstanding…keeping in mind that it was the authors of the Crusades who have also sown those seeds.)

The twins were the first scientifically verifiable prototype of this union, and no one intended to make the results known to the general public for the sake of the safety of all parties concerned.

As you may recall, during The Great Eurasian Leap Forward, after Man first diverged from his primal ancestors, the offspring showed a remarkable increase in each successive generation in intellectual capacity due to the doubling of the SRGAP2  gene despite an eventually lowered total brain mass compared to the earlier, larger Neanderthal . Similarly, these children would later prove to be far more advanced than any primate…even Frederick, had ever been.

In the light of the previous events of the day, everyone in attendance was openly grateful for the revelation of the paternity of the children.

No one had suspected, least of all Darcy that it was even within the range of possibility that she was capable of conception in the first place, let alone by way of the world’s one and only Bonanzee.

Everyone in attendance openly displayed tears of joy as Anastasia and Mark helped hold the twins to Darcy’s breasts. She was absolutely radiant, looking for all the world like the proudest mother of all time…the way every mother should.

It was about this time that the visions from  the cauldrons began to change. A face began to appear that looked as if it was painted in smoke. Although initially vague and indistinct, it eventually took on the appearance of Frederick’s face.

Although the synchronization between the lips and the voice that everyone heard was delayed, nonetheless everyone who witnessed it clearly perceived the sound of Frederick’s voice in their heads as clearly as if he was personally whispering the words directly into their ears.

It was later confirmed that whether or not they had taken The Knowledge everyone who heard them verified the words that Frederick imparted to them.

First he repeated his last words spoken to the world at the time of his death. The recordings that were made of the camera feeds showed the video, but no audio was recorded. Fortunately, for posterity he also signed his message as he had before.

To it, he added a final remark. “For those who wished me harm, you have not seen the last of me. I was not born to be so easily dispatched. For those of you who knew and loved me, you too have not seen the last of me, because there is so much more to unfold as our work progresses.”

“Just as Man received a hand-up fifty-thousand years ago, it is now time for Man to lend his hand to his simian cousins to allow the natural evolutionary process to begin again. Who amongst you would deny us that opportunity?”

“Since the time when Man first traded Instinct and Intuition for Reason, he has suffered for it on so many levels that the members of our inner circle have now only really begun to realize.”

“The ancestors of Man can provide him your connection to our mutual primal past, including telepathy…if you can just learn to stop talking and relying on words to express yourselves. You have as much to gain as we do in the symbiosis of our union.”

“Our children will become the beta-version of Mankind. It is time to embrace our next evolutionary quantum leap.”

“Keep me in your hearts so that my spirit may abide there with you all as you raise our children together.”

This was clearly an event that had shocked and surprised a group who had become accustomed to the bizarre and unbelievable in a world where the impossible had become commonplace.

Most religiously oriented persons of any faith would have considered the entire event an abomination, or the work of the Devil, were they to learn of it, but in the hearts and minds of the inner circle of The Home for Wayward Souls, it was a well-received serendipity.

And so it was, that this group who did not believe in a disapproving, punitive, vindictive and jealous God the Creator (either Aravat or Eloah, Elah or Eolith in Hebrew) nonetheless learned to embrace a union with what has been referred to as the Guf, or Treasury of Souls without conflict or contradiction, and who believed in the persistence of the Soul

And it was good…very, VERY GOOD…like, well…(you know the rest)…..

Namaste

THFWS & TTM: Before the Phoenix Rises Again…

Before the Phoenix Rises Again…

Stan noticed the man’s eyes before he even recognized that they belonged to Sebastian G. Lodge. What caught his attention was the absolute malevolence that betrayed his intentions long before Stan even saw the gun.

If you are trying to provide personal protective services in a large crowd, it is easy to get lost in a sea of details of the entire crowd. It is much quicker to scan the crowd for the eyes that will tell you their motive from across a room…or a plaza.

If the eyes don’t look right, suspect a motive, then look around for the details that indicate the owner has a plan and the means to constitute a clear and present danger or a threat.

It is easy to spot murderous rage or malice, but Stan also knew how to spot the cold, calculating eyes of a professional sizing up all the other details surrounding your protected charge. Although they too are conspicuous to just the right eyes, Lodge’s eyes literally telegraphed his emotions.

Stan was already reacting instinctively in a very long series of reflex arcs that had been initiated by plan, by practice, and by execution more than enough times to ensure that they occurred without conscious thought or mental action…the Tao of the Gun.

Before he recognized Lodge he had already thrown his body into the path of his adversary…Instinctively, and without hesitation as he drew his weapon a very few milliseconds before Lodge produced his.

He did not have to wait to act…anticipation is the first step in establishing and maintaining control before it can ever be lost.

Lodge’s eyes were like two hard-boiled eggs floating in a bowl of beets…his face was contorted with twisted rage and unfocused pain. He looked like he had been drinking and crying all night, and snot dripped from his nose into his gaping, drooling mouth while he seemed to gasp for air as he began firing at the center of the group.

Four rounds struck Stan as he leaped, still hanging in mid-air; three in his chest, striking his body-armour, as one grazed the outside margin of his right thigh, throwing a small puff of blood, skin and material from his pants into the air as it ripped through everything that stood before it.

It seemed like the whole event was in extreme slow-motion as Stan heard the report of the shots, the whiz of the bullets, the thump they produced on his chest, the sight of Lodge’s semi-automatic pistol recoiling and Ka-Chunking another round into the chamber as empty brass flew into the air, raining down on the courthouse steps with the tinkling ring of death reverberating and splashing around them, although most people only heard the shots themselves.

Stan watched as he saw Lodge’s chest explode before the sight profile of his pistol as he triple-tapped the cardiac silhouette. He did not execute the customary head shot because it was too close quarters to shoot anything but center of mass for fear of striking a non-combatant. He did not have to think about it. That was just the way it was…Instinct…Reflex arc…before thinking.

In crisis, you revert to your most basic level of training.

A head shot through the tip of the nose as far down as the bottoms of the lower row of teeth, or through the ears or just below the base of the occipital region above the spine would have produced a flaccid paralysis kill rendering Lodge unable to even pull the trigger of his weapon.

Stanley knew how to do it…like in Genesis, where “Zofran Knew Sarah, or Rachel, or Hanna…(or better still, all three) and it was Good….” Biblical knowledge involves the most intimate of familiarity…not just how to….but in fact to do, as well as when not to…when there is zero margin for collateral damage.

That’s the disadvantage one faces when they are forced to be fighting on the side of Good…Lodge was not so constrained….did not have to worry about the outcome of his actions, like stray bullets for instance.

Just the same, Stan did the best anyone could have hoped to do in the situation. Stan was the very best of those who did what he did…He was almost perfect….

Lodge was dead before he hit the ground. You could have told so by the sound if you knew what to listen for…like hearing a sack of meat hit the sidewalk from six feet up. Half splat, half thud and no rebound whatsoever.

It wasn’t until he heard Darcy’s scream that he knew for sure that almost wasn’t quite good enough…as he realized that Lodge had fired five times…or how that one fifth round, fired as Lodge was dying, already headed for the ground had ricocheted  off a stone step and struck Frederick in the chest.

As the news cameras captured it, Frederick signed “Carry me in your heart” to Darcy, who was holding his head and shoulders on her legs and next to her swollen belly.

Then all of the members of the group heard Frederick’s best, most sonorous voice in their minds as he told them “It’s still a good day to be me…I have done, and seen and thought things no mere Ape could imagine…I love you all… please protect our children…they are the sons and daughters of Man, the same way Man was the Son of God…their fate lies in your hands and hearts…Remember me to them…and remember to talk to them in our special way.”

He also simultaneously visually signed the thoughts he sent to the members of the group for the benefit of all those who would witness it…either now or later…courtesy of those who would capture that moment forever on cameras…his last living communications with the world.

Thoughts and words that would be subject to much debate as to their meaning for a long time….

As Ash and Merle rushed the other members of the group into the limousine, Stan cradled the body of Frederick in his arms and carried him to the shelter of the vehicle as Frederick took his last breaths.

When Rescue showed up, they pronounced Lodge dead, and tried to bandage Stan’s wound, which Anastasia had temporarily dressed with Stan’s (unused) handkerchief and his tie, but the paramedics apologized that they could not risk “contamination” of their equipment by Frederick’s blood or bodily fluids.

The police were everywhere and nowhere at the same time, taking statements, setting up a perimeter and marking it with “Police Line. Do Not Cross” tape, photographing everything in and out of sight, marking angles of trajectory, cataloging and bagging spent shell casings, drawing two chalk lines, and documenting and sampling every drop of blood that anyone could find, yet somehow seeming to take forever, while fighting and posturing over rank, jurisdiction, procedures, protocols, and press releases, as well as the relative length of every other cop’s penis within a five-mile radius.

Eventually, everyone got back home to the Sanctuary. The police were remarkably blasé about releasing Frederick’s body to them almost immediately.

The group was grateful for that, but it hurt to hear the officer in charge declare “…it would be different if he were a human….”.

A trauma surgeon was summoned to the Sanctuary to attend to Stan’s wound.

Had he been a police officer, he would have been on administrative suspension with pay pending an investigation, but he was not so constrained.

There was no DA willing to charge him until proven otherwise, like a regular citizen could anticipate, but he was no hero either. He had been assigned to protect Frederick who was now dead, and although he undoubtedly saved the lives of the others, there are no consolation prizes for heroism.

Management had no further interests in the case. Frederick was dead and he, as well as the other Primates were now the property of The Home for Wayward Souls as far as they were concerned.

Lodge would have represented the last loose end in the whole equation, had he not conveniently self-destructed the way he did. Management immediately began to begin the process of demonizing Lodge to the public to give them sufficient distancing from his actions.

Management had also suspected that Stan was “compromised” for some time now, but in the scheme of things, his continued discretion was considered guaranteed in a way that would serve their purposes.

The continued safety of the members of The Home for Wayward Souls was in Management’s best interests…at least for an appropriate length of time for the public to forget them and turn their attention back to the regularly scheduled programming of current events designed to promote the economy and the public’s best interest of neurotic consumption.

An additional midwife was waiting for them, but Anastasia took charge of her emotions and focused on Darcy’s care in much less time than anyone…even Anastasia…would have thought possible.

If you are a nurse, that is how you cope. You focus on the lives that need to be saved…and the lives of the yet unborn…postpone the grieving for the dead…its called Triage…you learn about it in school, but when you are forced to do it in real life, you (later) realize how it protected you, no matter how hard it is later to reconcile your grief, for that moment you are protected by the actions you take.

Make no mistake…every time you let one of your patients into your personal space, if you let yourself be touched by their humanity… what you don’t know at the time is that whether you save their life, or not…if you protect and sustain them until they can be turned over to a higher level of care, you will carry those emotions felt and witnessed by you within you forever…or until they get replaced…pushed out…by something worse, or better…as the well begins to overflow….

Darcy was not in labor yet, the fetuses were not in distress…at least not now…but she knew, and Darcy sensed, that to not prepare for the inevitable would be to invite disaster.

Ash called a friend of his who was a Neonatologist at Miami Children’s Hospital. They had been undergraduates at Gainesville together and he played the baritone sax exquisitely. He was to be there…“just in case….”.

They were as ready as they could be, given the circumstances.

And then, when they least expected it, the grief…the realization…the internalization of it all struck them almost simultaneously.

Ash was trying in vain to find a Mortician to prepare the body, when someone suggested a cremation, which was then envisioned as a funeral pyre about the time that Darcy began to weep, then sob uncontrollably.

The grief swept over them like a giant wave as they began to hold, hug, and kiss each other as they surrounded Darcy. In moments like that, grief so shared boils quickly to the surface much more strongly than most people could possibly experience alone, and yet in so sharing they become galvanized by it.

The chimps and bonobos had been in the public area outside the Sanctuary and were celebrating and dancing as the verdict was announced. They also witnessed the news footage of Frederick’s assassination shortly afterward.

Malkira and Lilith were at the rectory awaiting the arrival of the limousine, and been shown their son’s body and allowed to sit with him to grieve. The other chimps and bonobos stood vigil outside.

When she calmed herself a bit, Darcy asked Merle to please administer her a proper dosage of The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Merle agreed that the ability of any of the known effects of the drug to affect any harm to the neonates or to her was extremely unlikely, but he nonetheless felt compelled to ask her if she felt she was mentally prepared for the effects of the drug.

“I have nothing to fear…I intend to embrace all knowledge and experience as it comes to me from this moment on…and I invite everyone else to join me poolside, because I have the distinct premonition that I will be delivering my babies very soon…and since we are all family…I think everyone should experience the event according to their own level of comfort, and that we should all experience it together….”

“Count in on us…me…and Charlie…” (no one ever calls him that but her, btw…) “…right Honey-Cock? As one life (is) ushered out, new life enters…no?” Suki was usually the first to volunteer, or for that matter, the first to get naked whenever the opportunity presented itself.

That was one of her most endearing and charming features…that, and her ability to seem like she was on a trampoline while everyone else was on solid ground all around her.

With that, Ash, Kali and Mark nodded in agreement and approached Merle to accept the Sacrament as well.

Five minutes later, they were all naked in the pool with Darcy, who was sitting on the steps holding the rail with her left arm, bracketed by Anastasia and the midwife on either side.

Much earlier, it had been decided that Darcy would birth her children in the water and for weeks now, the solar heaters had kept the temperature at just below 100 degrees, so as to mimic body temperature. Anastasia had delivered two of her own “water-babies” years before who were now grown, and she recommended it highly.

Kali and Suki set up cauldrons for the scurrying. They were certain the The Ancient Ones would be there for the birthing.

Sobee and Sharma were scampering around in the bushes and flower beds beside the front doors, playfully anticipating if they should have to transform into sentinels, ever on the alert, but playfully good-natured about it all. They could go from chameleon to iguana to dragon in the blink of an eye, and back again just as fast.

Charles called them the “Quantum Lizards”…explaining how if they could transform in “Planck Time”, (basically faster than anyone could measure it…something like 1 sec to the negative forty-third power), then they could do as they pleased, and if they did it in a closed universe, they could expand the interval of Quantum Probability far beyond that.

And even in an open universe, if they could transform back and forth that quickly, the persistence of vision would make them appear to be solid and permanent in whatever form they chose.

“Form is Form, Emptiness is Emptiness…

Form is Emptiness, Emptiness is Form…

No Form, no Emptiness…

An elephant rides a mouse that dances to the song of a guitar with no strings…

Form is Form, Emptiness is Emptiness.”

They were the “Great Embezzlers of Time and Space” as it turns out, and just liked to hang out at the Sanctuary whenever there was something interesting happening and very special doormen were needed.

It was a beautiful night. The moon was full and the sky was absolutely clear.

The ArchAngels were playing a four-hour song cycle they had written several months before in anticipation of the arrival of the twins.

Charles had Lothar set up multiple video cameras to capture whatever appeared in, from or around the cauldrons so as to project it onto the screen that flew above the gardens outside the Sanctuary.

Raul, the talking Cuban Tree Frog was there as well, narrating and reporting for the Intergalactic Geographic Channel in his customarily hushed golf tournament narrative voice-over.

It was a strange and beautiful night. One in which the despair and tragedy of Frederick’s death was nearly eclipsed by the ushering in of new life; where great victories were marred by great personal loss.

Twin souls were standing in the wings, waiting to make their appearance on the stage of Life. It was already guaranteed that they would be loved and cared for in ways for which few children could ever hope or dream.

Not all children await such an auspicious entry into Life, but for those who do, it does not matter if they are destined to become luminary figures the world will long remember, or just another lost soul who found a good place to land for a while.

Jesus was born in a manger. Lincoln was born in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere, right now, a Buddha is being born, although no one knows it yet. No one ever knows what will be the fate of children at the time of their birth. It is enough just for them to be born.

The news of the day heard around the world would be of Frederick’s murder, with an anecdotal reference to the birth of the children in the Sanctuary, but for the members of this church of common mind and heart, it would forever remain a day of bittersweet contrast of the best and worst aspects of what it is to be alive.

This was to be a very special and wondrous night.

THFWS & TTM’s: The Verdict

The jury was sequestered for weeks after the end of the trial. Surprisingly (or perhaps not) one lone juror sympathized with Sebastian Galbraith Lodge’s actions and beliefs to such an extent that it almost resulted in a hung jury.

An elderly woman of devout faith, and a Baptist, she shared many of Lodge’s beliefs, and admired him for the courage of his convictions. She also strongly disapproved of what she regarded as “an abomination” concerning what she understood of Ash and his followers’ practices, especially the polyamory.

She likewise did not consider The Home for Wayward Souls to be a legitimate church, but recognized that just like the Catholics, the Muslims, the Buddhists, the Hindus, the Mormons, or “even the Jews”, they were entitled to the pursuit of their religious freedoms and practices

Eventually, the other jurors convinced her that it was not Lodge who was on trial, but rather a question of whether it was appropriate to “own” a sentient being in the first place like a slave or chattel property, subject to the whims of their owners.

She however, was a creationist, like Lodge, so the ownership of animals, let alone their sentience, was not subject to question, but she was also a member of PETA, and felt that it was unreasonable to place such high expectations, stress and pressure on a “poor dumb animal”.

She cared for and fed three “rescue dogs”, four cats, and a parrot she had taught to say “praise the Lord” and sing “Jesus loves me” that she had owned for over forty years.

Although it seemed as if she had not been paying any attention to Frederick’s compelling testimony, they were content to let her sympathize with the Primates as long as it resulted in their freedom.

It was impossible to charge the primates with any crimes, given the fact that, in the eyes of the courts, they were still animals.

But when it came to deciding their ultimate fate, the jury nonetheless agreed that their treatment had been cruel and inhumane, and that they should not be subject to further experiments of any kind.

The Plaintiff’s Attorneys had already prepared an offer to buy the Primates from PharmaCorp for an amount approximately four times what was considered “market value” but further added that it was not to be considered a purchase, but rather an act of emancipation as ransom for their freedom.

The jury also agreed that The Home for Wayward Souls was in no way responsible for the initial actions of the primates, or for any damages or losses incurred by PharmaCorp.

All parties conceded that an eventual determination would have to be made by the courts as to the acknowledgement of their sentience and civil rights and liberties, but it was clearly beyond the authority of this court to do so at this time.

Ash and his congregation agreed to accept responsibility for the care and further actions of the Primates in much the same way that a parent of a disabled adult would.

Both the Chimps and Bonobos were very content in their habitat of the lush tropical areas surrounding the seven acres upon which the The Sanctuary resided and had made no attempt to leave the property, which they now considered to be their territory, and which they thoroughly enjoyed patrolling.

An eight-foot chain link fence surrounded the entire perimeter, acting as a line of demarcation for all parties concerned, and no one dared enter the premises except through the front gate.

In a statement to the press, it was announced that Mark and Darcy would be charged with their care and “education” including further studies of their developmental and communications abilities on a “voluntary” basis, which they intended to use to establish their legal rights as sentient, self-aware beings capable of communicating their choices and desires in their own pursuit of happiness.

All costs would be covered by The Home for Wayward Souls as part of their stated purpose as a non-profit corporation devoted to the pursuit of higher consciousness.

It was also agreed that any further legal action on the part of PharmaCorp (or any of its unnamed agents) would cease with prejudice and the amount paid by the church would be considered settlement in full with no admissions of guilt by anyone.

It was a day of triumph for Frederick and the other Primates; a day of liberation to be celebrated by everyone at the Sanctuary.

Darcy was near her due date and her delivery of the twins was immanent, but she was incredibly healthy and in great spirits as she waddled down the steps of the courthouse with Frederick and Mark hand-in-hand surrounded by Ash, Kali, Merle, Charles, Suki and Anastasia. Stanley Linderman was also with them.

Although Frederick was no longer the property of Stan’s employers, he was still “on point”  more as a matter of habit, and it was his intention to resign his position to come to work for The Home for Wayward Souls as a “security consultant”.

An offer had already been made by Ash and the council of the church to pay him handsomely to keep the carnival atmosphere that had surrounded them all under control.

As popular as they had become, they were not without their detractors and sworn enemies, mostly fundamentalist Christians.

Stanley had never been so content or happy before. He believed that he was finally in the right place at the right time to do something he felt he was born to do.

Frederick even stopped on the steps for a photo-op to do The Monkey Dance for the press, flashing the V for Victory sign with both hands, and then suddenly signing “It’s a great day to be me.”

It was a glorious day and it seemed as if nothing could stop them now.

THFWS & TTM’s: Sebastian in Court

Despite the legal maneuvering, posturing, politicizing, and other distractions amplified by the media to generate “sound bites” (rather than look deeper because the format is not well suited to hourly updates) there remained several essential questions that would either have to be defined and answered by the courts or else someone in any number of very high places would have to create enough of a diversion lasting at least ninety days to allow for a non-sequitur.

Regardless of anyone’s best intentions, if an issue goes unanswered long enough, the public loses interest because the Court of Public Opinion only generally entertains items and persons of interest suitable for National Enquirer, The Globe, TMZ, The Star, or if they are feeling really high-brow, People Magazine, (The magazine for people who don’t like to read).

Eventually, even Rolling Stone decided to do an article and photo shoot entitled “The Talking Monkeys: The Siege of The Home for Wayward Souls becomes Everyday Zen”.

It was a beautifully photo illustrated cover article with almost three thousand words written by a very articulate young man trying desperately to fill Hunter Thompson’s shoes.

It was the definitive last word on the action, the drama, and what was really at stake, and in so doing issued cease-fire orders as a media event, effectively stating “Nothing More to See Here, Go Back to Your Homes…” knowing full-well that once a verdict was reached, there would be plenty more public attention.

And for everyone at The Sanctuary, although they knew an answer was forthcoming, they were in no real hurry to get any verdicts themselves, even though they seemed to be the only ones who knew what the real questions were…or at least that was what it felt like if you had been there.

They became the new rock stars of the new millennium.

They had all become “everyday famous”, like “Bradgolina”…cheap, plentiful pulp for The Mill.

They knew there was no free lunch, and there was no other way to ride this one out, and no hurry to get to the end, because everyday life was fucking great for the here and now.

Besides, the strawberries were sweet, and the tigers were hungry.

“Bravo! Network” wanted to do a series called “The Housewives of Polyamory” but the group unanimously agreed to vote any such trash down any time the offer was so much as proffered.

Because they did not run or shy away from TMZ, no matter how much they tried to put their sleazy spin on any of the actions at the Sanctuary, the fact that its members acted and behaved as if they had nothing to hide, devoid of shame became their greatest strength.

The dog chases the deer because the deer runs.

They were all in for a showdown regarding The Answers, and a great deal would be determined by what Sebastian Galbraith Lodge had to say in court. Needless to say, he was in no way prepared for any of it.

Men like Lodge were meant to be petty bureaucrats. They have the family, the education and the breeding, but deep down, they know that although their position in life is privileged, it is not until their strength and character are challenged that the false bravado of their arrogance bred by too many assurances and self-righteous indulgences since the moment of their birth erodes faster than a sand castle in the desert.

Certain government agencies and private corporations specialize in keeping straw men like Lodge around just to throw them to the mob if it actually reaches the castle walls.

(Plaintiff’s Attorney): “Mr. Lodge, how would you describe your duties and responsibilities at The Center for Primate Studies?”

(Sebastian G. Lodge): “My primary responsibility was to insure that the best interests of Management’s investments were protected. I received directives, not mission statements…I saw to it that they were carried out regardless of my own personal beliefs or feelings.”

(Plaintiff’s Attorney): “Have you not previously stated that you have no background in animal research or laboratory operations of any kind…is that not correct?”

(Sebastian G. Lodge): “Yes. At first I relied upon The Center’s Director for general guidance, but when I found that he was not entirely in alignment with Management’s objectives…as if he believed that he somehow existed outside of their instructions, I determined that his position was expendable.”

“It is not an uncommon trait in academic types…their primary allegiance would appear to be to follow the dictates of their personal belief systems, like Science for Science’s Sake, Truth, Justice, or answering to some Godless mysterious higher power and therefore subject to becoming loose cannons and wild cards….”

(Plaintiff’s Attorney): “And whistle-blowers?”

(Sebastian G. Lodge): “In my line of work, that is not an appropriate term…all employees are subject to very stringent security protocols. There is no whistle to be blown, because the whistle does not exist within those protocols.”

“The popular term these days is ‘Leaks’ but that is really just a euphemism, and the term ‘whistle-blower’ is no better. Potentially, this could involve treason. It was my job to keep our information secure and protect our assets.”

(Plaintiff’s Attorney): “And just whose assets would that be?”

(Sebastian G. Lodge): “Without trying to sound too evasive, it would be fair to say that I am hired as a consultant for PharmaCorp who is subcontracted, to insure that my primary employers, who are the contractors get best utilization and return on their investments and protection of their assets.”

(Plaintiff’s Attorney): “And that is your best ability to not sound too evasive?…Let’s get to the point…who are your real employers?…to whom do you ultimately answer?”

After a great deal of time in the judge’s chambers, it was mutually agreed that Sebastian Galbraith Lodge’s answer would be Science Applications International Corporation and/or LEIDOS (an acronym that emerged from the word Kaleidoscope and was spawned when the courts ordered the breakup of certain functions of SAIC).

It was also agreed that no further inquiries would be made as to the exact nature or purpose of SAIC/LEIDOS pursuits…“in the interests of national security….”

The official doctrine was that the experiments by PharmaCorp centered around the so-called “Talking Monkeys Project” as a way of minimizing expenses to conduct telemarketing strategies while exploring the potential for simian communication to and from humans, as well as identifying primal motivations as an indicator of human behavior and its potential for additional modifications.

The excursions to North Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas were dubbed as “retreats” to help better study ways to offset Repetitive Thought Injury, the existence of which they neither acknowledged or denied, but were merely looking for a way to “optimize the performances” of their test subjects.

There were to be no further inquiries about their activities off-campus beyond that point.

The Plaintiffs considered this to be a huge concession on the part of Management to avoid addressing the much bigger pariah of Commando Chimps leading a shadow army at the bequest of the “government within the government protecting the nation within the nation.”

(Plaintiff’s Attorneys): “Would it be fair to state that you were completely dependent upon the information and data that you received from your researchers?”

(Sebastian Galbraith Lodge): “To the extent that I felt comfortable with their allegiances…I simply forwarded the data to Management to let them decide how it should be interpreted.”

(Plaintiff’s Attorneys): “Was it your Management that deemed it necessary to instead conduct surveillance of the personal lives and religious pursuits of those researchers?”

(Sebastian Galbraith Lodge):“Not initially, but I cleared it through channels on the basis of the fact that since Frederick was leaving campus, there was the potential for harm to come to our most valuable test subject…the subject of kidnap was raised for instance…Stanley Linderman was the ideal agent to protect those interests…and his loyalties were beyond reproach.”

(Plaintiff’s Attorneys): “Yes, indeed, he was very careful to maintain your mutual deniability about subpoenaed inquiries made by you in email and text messages, in regard to certain aspects of the religious and sexual practices of all of the members of The Home for Wayward Souls, including reports that were also subpoenaed that nonetheless begged the question of who ordered them….”

(Sebastian Galbraith Lodge):“Was there a question in there somewhere?”

(Plaintiff’s Attorneys): “Who ordered the additional invasions of their privacy, and under what authority?”

(Sebastian Galbraith Lodge):“Under the circumstances, I would say it was well-advised, considering the outcome. I stand behind my decision.”

(Plaintiff’s Attorneys): “Was it also your decision to withhold the information about disturbing behavioral signs exhibited by so many of the primates? Is it just possible that you let your personal beliefs about the origins of Man and Creationism cloud your judgement regarding acknowledgement of the sentience of anything other than Man?” 

(Sebastian Galbraith Lodge): “It is still my contention that the rebellion, and escape of the primates, as well as the destruction of PharmaCorp’s properties and loss of income are the direct result of seditious ideas implanted by the members of their cult including some of the highest-ranking and most trusted PharmaCorp research employees under the direction of their so-called minister…he claims no religious affiliation to any specific denomination, but any right-minded individual can easily recognize the words of Satan coming from the mouth of the Serpent in the Garden….”

Even the crickets stopped their restless-leg Serenade to a Wool Sweater in mid-chirp.

(For the third time since this story began, a fly was suddenly startled by the sound of a pin dropping to the floor.)

Interestingly enough, this was also one of those few times in jurisprudence where the Plaintiffs did NOT wish to have the remarks of a member of the Defense stricken from the record and the Defense Attorneys did, but not before the Plaintiffs pointed out that…

“In order to be seduced or even mislead, the parties in question had to possess the ability to make a decision in the first place.”

The jurors were instead instructed to regard Mr. Lodge’s remarks to be wholly his own opinion, and in no way representative of PharmaCorp’s policies or procedures, and court was summarily adjourned for the day.

Tomorrow they would ask the really big questions, like:

“Were the Primates really self-aware…and sentient?”

…or:

“If so, were they responsible for the consequences of their actions? …and when did Sebastian first learn of their higher levels of consciousness? …And what did he do when he did become aware of it?”

…or:

“If they were sentient, were they not entitled to rebel against inhumane treatment, given their level of consciousness?”

…or for that matter:

“What level of intelligence or self-awareness entitles a living being to self-determination, especially if they can demonstrate their ability to effectively communicate those desires?”

…or even:

“Are there some things that any sentient being can decline to be subjected that humans may willingly embrace, or is it simply inhumane no matter who is required to do it?”

Humans willingly surrender their self-determinism, their will, their civil rights and civil liberties and even the lives of their children before they are even born…every day.

They choose to wallow in greed and ignorance thinly disguised by  jealous insecurities stimulating consumerism in the name of the public safety and the greater good.

There is slavery as well as safety in numbers. The self-proclaimed protectors of the weak will never quit filling their pockets through the labors and votes of those who believe they cannot protect themselves and the sympathies of those too lazy and clueless to do it as a natural course of action.

…and:

Who will protect us from our protectors?

THFWS&TTM’s: Polarity and Polarization

Polarity and Polarization

As the trial progressed it became a time of extremes.

Kali’s website was bringing in tremendous revenues as more and more people learned of its existence. Similarly, people began to flock to the Saturday performances and Sunday services at The Home for Wayward Souls like never before.

Those who could not attend watched it on cable, wherever it was available even if it was only public access.

Soon, so many people were attending from out-of-state, and other countries that even SRO admittance required reservations made weeks in advance unless you were already a member, and Stanley Linderman himself ran background checks on all those who were admitted.

If you were not a known entity, you were screened by standards higher than the TSA uses for aircraft travel, which helped stem the onrush of pilgrims to a manageable level…all courtesy of the US government’s ever-expanding database..

Eventually, Ash, Charles and Lothar set up a giant video projection screen outside the Sanctuary with a huge PA system to accommodate several hundred more. A giant tarp was flown above the outdoor viewing area to give some degree of shelter from the South Florida sun and rain.

Ash was quick to point out that a great deal of their meteoric rise in followers came from the bad press that the Defense attorneys had tried to use to demonize his church in order to challenge its validity as a house of worship for the primates seeking asylum.

The Ultra-Right(eous) Wing of the Ultra Christian Moral Majority jumped on the bandwagon, calling Ash the Anti-Christ, and Kali the Whore of Armageddon, but the more the other side tried to slander and malign his efforts, the more people began to listen to his words, ideas, and songs.

Ash offered an homage to them at the start of every service, and said a prayer to thank and bless them, even if “…they know not what they do….”

Whenever you project energy…even hate can empower your imagined enemies, especially if it is not reciprocated.

It was an interesting state of affairs indeed. Because THFWS was not implicated in any wrongdoing, and it was constitutionally illegal for any agency of the government to interfere with the lawful actions of any church. Anyone anywhere else would be charged with harboring a fugitive, but embassies and churches are unique in that respect.

It was far from business as usual, however. In fact it was the best place to be in one of the greatest periods of time in at least the last fifty thousand years since the dawn of man.

They had to build and install a huge computerized state of the art telephone switchboard system just to filter and handle all the telephone calls, providing jobs and income for sixty full-time expatriate PharmaCorp telemarketers. Many called for information, including how to contribute to The Primate Sentience Defense Fund.

A disturbing number of the calls were either bomb or death threats, but considering that the FBI, FDLA (Florida Department of Law Enforcement), county SWAT teams, and undoubtedly a few CIA spooks had surrounded the place to presumably keep the Chimps from escaping and to protect the subpoenaed members and Frederick, accompanied by Lindermand during transport to and from the courthouse, they also prevented anyone not on “the guest list” from entering, or even getting near enough to cause any mischief.

There were even a few unsubstantiated rumors that off-duty secret Service agents were offered overtime pay to help lend their expertise. (Let’s face it…all the other above-named agencies had a pretty crappy reputation for Protection.)

And, as always all calls were monitored and recorded, not only by THFWS, but also every government agency with enough of an agenda to obtain wiretap orders from a judge.

Stanley Linderman was on the inside, charged with “protecting PharmaCorp’s assets” (Notably Frederick and the other Chimps and Bonobos). He additionally recruited a small group of members whose previous life experiences…well, let us just say predisposed them to being useful for security. Young Gulf War and even more senior Viet Nam Vets were among the trusted followers well-trained at maintaining a perimeter.

And then of course were the Chimps themselves, all of whom had received some degree of pseudo-military training while on “retreat”. They were more at home in this South Florida jungle than anyone, and accustomed to patrolling their territories when in their natural wild habitat, and even at the Center for Primate Studies. For them, it was inborn, or perhaps instinctive.

As much as PharmCorp/SAIC/Leidos attorneys tried to paint a picture of guilt by association between The Home for Wayward Souls and the primates, it was already agreed among the members that there would be no lies told by them as regards the practices of Ash and his followers.

They decided that the best defense was to offer their candid testimony as a bully pulpit that they hoped would serve as a clarion call to all the disgruntled, disappointed, disgusted people who had rejected the idea of any religion, but still wanted, and needed the companionship, fellowship, support and love of people of common mind and heart.

People not interested in feeling guilty and preoccupied with sin or giving groveling homage endlessly to a silent, disapproving, angry, jealous, wrathful, vindictive God who required intercessions by self-serving clergy of questionable motivation who told them that “the Age of Miracles was over”. It was a call for people who loved sex, and people who sought communion with The Ancient Ones.

People who had studied enough history to realize what a sham virtually all religions were except as another way to control and manipulate the masses.

People who did not regard themselves as part of the masses.

It turned out that there were literally hundreds of thousands of them, and their numbers increased daily. Even atheists were welcome and encouraged to attend, and frequently did because The Home for Wayward Souls had become such a Mecca for rational debate and discussion of alternative lifestyles and belief systems that it became chic, fashionable and avant-garde to watch, listen, or be seen there.

The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was the only secret that was kept by those few individuals who had been initiated, each of whom took an oath to not discuss with anyone else.

The Sanctuary was proving to be worthy of its name.

Fortunately, this was not a stand-off, like Ruby Ridge in Idaho, where the FBI and ATF surrounded the Randal Weaver Ranch after shooting one young son in the back while he was hunting on their own property. Where a sniper later shot his wife as she stood before a window while she held their infant son in her arms.

Or unlike Waco, Texas where they surrounded the Branch Davidian Congregation led by David Koresh. There they shut off all electricity and water to the compound and played loud music at all hours of the night before sending the fire trucks more than five miles away outside the perimeter (“…for their protection…”) right before the building “mysteriously” caught fire only seconds after the first tank pushed its barrel through the compound walls.

This was indeed not a stand-off because the Church itself was not considered complicit with the actions of the fugitives despite the best efforts of the Defense.

The primates were seeking Asylum in a Sanctuary in a church, a time-honored practice that has been respected for many centuries. Despite innuendo about witchcraft, polyamory and paganism, the attorneys for the Plaintiffs successfully defended The Home for Wayward Souls as a valid church without ties to any other denomination.

Also too many people already knew about the situation and most respected the institution of Asylum within a Sanctuary offered within a church to make it acceptable to just storm the premises by force.

Public knowledge and attention is important. When the trials against the government for their actions against Randal Weaver were being conducted, only C-Span covered it, because CNN and all the other major news networks were too giving hourly updates on the attack on olympic figure skater Nancy Kerrigan by Tanya Harding’s boyfriend.

Keep in mind that PharmaCorp/SAIC/Leidos were the Defense by virtue of the fact that the Primates were charging that they had been inhumanely treated, kidnapped and enslaved, and that they were sentient, self-aware beings entitled to self-determination rather than ownership.

Because the counter-suit for damages and reinstatement of the Primates as their legal property on behalf of PharmaCorp being contingent upon the decisions concerning this case, it took a back seat to the charges leveled on behalf of the primates.

And since The Home for Wayward Souls had become a fantastically wealthy non-profit corporation, they had plenty of money to spend on the very best attorneys that money could buy.

Some of the most famous (and expensive) defense lawyers as well as quite a few well-known former prosecutors and two retired judges were clamoring to be a part of the Dream Team. Enough to successfully challenge one of the most powerful corporations in the world.

This would be yet another case where the principles of Trial by Money would be operant.

But more than this, The Primates had one source of power that no amount of money could buy. They had the support of the brightest and best men and women of good conscience everywhere who were not willing to just stand aside and do nothing.

They awoke the latent rage against injustice that had been lying dormant for decades within the people who could still think and feel.

People who either observed or participated, even if it involved arrest as the civil rights movement raged against the institutionalized machinery of prejudice and protested a war that never should have been started until they stopped it and kept on raising hell and challenging every established institution in our world culture that deserved to be questioned until it turned into a cultural war.

People who knew all too well what it was to fight for their own self-determination. People who refused to die trying to live the lives their parents had been unable to live.

And it turned out that they were everywhere, perhaps long dormant, but once resurrected, they became galvanized by the realization that this might be their one last chance to take a stand against the tyranny of evil men with too much money and power.

The so-called Talking Monkeys sought sanctuary from cruel and unusual treatment and were petitioning the court to have their sentience acknowledged along with certain inalienable rights that would prevent them from being bought and sold like livestock.

They too sought their own version of self-determination.

In the midst of all the carnival atmosphere, somewhere between a Doors concert and a latter-day Woodstock, the lives and rights of many sentient primates (and humans) hung in the balance.

And all the while the band played on. The ArchAngels became what amounted to a modern orchestra, playing in shifts for more than twelve hours a day. All audio and video recording was now done on premises and distributed from there.

A small FM radio station was built with internet web access that broadcast twenty-four hours a day.

They were also available on satellite radio.

Pay-per-view streaming and DVD sales of the programs and Music of the Siege were the best vote of support they could have imagined.

In situations like these, mere donations are devoid of the symbiosis that exists between an exchange of money for art, music or ideals. A donation is a one-way transaction. These supporters were in effect welcoming The Home for Wayward Souls into their hearts and minds, and in the process, they became a part of the movement.

Their music had become a series of anthems and ballads for people everywhere who were looking for something more and wanted to belong to something larger than just themselves.

(…and it was good…very, very good…like…well, by now you should know the rest….)