CRUISING THE EPIPHANY HIGHWAY - Volume 1

by Am Rosen
BUY

Along A Trail Of
  Heart Master
      Musings

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EBook versions can be purchased on IPad, Kindle, Nook and more...

 

Audio Excerpts
INTO A BITTEN APPLE (begun) (48:57) |
INTO A BITTEN APPLE (concluded) 18-43-23 (33:19) |
CREATIVE SCHIZOPHRENIA (21:52) |

                                                Volume One:    
       From Self Declaration 
                                  To Divine Transcendence

 

Table Of Consider This... That... Or Whatever...!

ONE:         DECLARATIONS AND INITIAL PROBINGS...................................   1

TWO:        REVELATIONS FROM A CRACKING SHELL................................  19

THREE:     WE SHARE BEDPANS IN THE TOILET OF THE MIND...............  61

FOUR:       THE DIVINE ALIBI................................................................................ 109

CRUISING THE EPIPHANY HIGHWAY is a literary compendium of psychological aphorisms, philosophical essays, short stories, poems, and meta mind-zingers extracted from forty years of my collected writings. In Volume OneFrom Self Declaration To Divine Transcendence —you consciously breathe in the ramifications of circumstance so deeply that you’re exhaled out of the world, transcending into a more encompassing relation of self to Self awareness. Crammed with enough revelatory insights to launch a million t-shirt/bumper stickers: Volume One is an irreverently sacred, transcendently lascivious, anciently futuristic, mind opening, soul balancing, heartfelt lovesong to the Human Spirit.

                      Okay... —So let’s go cruising...!!!

 


Customer Reviews

5.0 out of 5 star

A breakthough Literary Genius is born

April 16, 2007
By 
Conrad Janis (Beverly Hills, CA USA) - 
This review is from: Cruising the Epiphany Highway: Volume One: From Self Declaration to Divine Transcendence (Paperback)
Am Rosen's CRUISING THE EPIPHANY HIGHWAY is nothing short of miraculous. It is a roadmap to the stars written by a heartfelt, Master Psychologist, revolutionary unique thinker and playful wordsmith whose incisively profound, brilliant and visionary 'Soul-Sight' reflections he generously shares with the readers through his lifelong personal Journey of discovery so that we may expand our own spiritual vistas. 
If you want a jolt of life altering wisdom and joy with your cup of coffee, grab lots of copies of this literary masterpiece, as you'll surely want to share CRUISING THE EPIPHANY HIGHWAY with your friends. To say I was deeply affected by this book is an understatement.

    5.0 out of 5 star

Cruising is an epiphany , 01/30/2007

Reviewer:   Leslie Bohn
Am Rosen is a true literary wonder who has opened the doors to reality with this heartfelt book that never ceases to amaze me. Bravo!

 

    5.0 out of 5 star

Trippy, Educational & Fun! , 02/20/2007

Reviewer: Brett
Am Rosen immediately pulls you into his psychodelic playground of thought and enlightenment. A virtual whirlwind of poems and essays leaves your brain feeling like it just got a high intensity workout while forcing you to ponder while what you've been so uptight for all these years. Great book.

 

    5.0 out of 5 stars

 Bodhisattva, won't you take me by the hand?, April 14, 2007
Reviewer:  Lisa Williamson  (Puerto Vallarta, Mexico) 
This review is from: Cruising the Epiphany Highway: Volume One: From Self Declaration to Divine Transcendence (Paperback)
Calling all seekers of truth: don't miss the opportunity to understand yourself and others beyond all imaginable realms of understanding. 
Cruising the Epiphany Highway (Vol. 1) has been the most challenging and by far the most rewarding education of my lifelong spiritual quest. It is overflowing with grounded insight after exalted observation that will truly blow your mind and change your consciousness (if you let it). 
Reading and assimilating this book is like participating in a personal raja yoga retreat facilitated by a master of sahaja-samadhi (aka 'most enlightened enlightenment').
Am Rosen is the metaphysical love-child of the Marx brothers, Albert Einstein, Kali and Hildegard of Bingen. He is a living example of Gandhi's invitation to 'be the change you wish to see in the world.' Humanity is truly blessed by his presence. 
Quick, somebody -- really -- put him in charge of this confused, desperate mess... he will have the whole ball of wax humming contentedly in no time.
 


    EXCERPTS:

    (1)   The following, is a partial excerpt which can be found in Section TWO:  
                                                    REVELATIONS FROM A CRACKING SHELL
 
                                                                      beginning on page 32

                              Pick Up Your Dumpty And Humpty Me

Realizing that all of his horses and all of his men had failed him, that most decent of kings became very troubled.  So he withdrew to ponder the situation.  But try as he might, he couldn’t figure out how to resolve the problem, because he did not understand all that was involved.  Stroking his inspiration, he came up with two measures by which the situation could be contained until some future time when he presumed it could finally be remedied.

First, he had his wisest advisor gather up all the pieces of Humpty Dumpty and preserve them... by turning them into a venerable fable.  To preserve Sir Dumpty as a sacred icon, he had his rumor mongering gossip brigade drop-spread the innuendo that:
                 Once upon a someday some exceptional one would finally be birthed
                  into this world who could put Humpty back together again.

       Second, he passed a series of laws against wall sitting.  Warnings were posted throughout the realm that walls were no joking matter.  For alas, the truly sanctified method for method for properly contemplating walls had not yet been devised.  Whereas everyone was encouraged to believe that the search for the proper method would go forth in earnest, for the time being all such erected barriers must be considered a necessary evil and approached, if at all, with cautious care.
       Wall sitting-- having proven to be the most dangerous perspective for contemplation --was ruled out.  Humpty Dumpty was religiously commercialized as the all time champion of attempted wall sitters, whose martyred sacrifice must serve as the great example: advising people to stay off of walls and remain on the ground.  Tolerating the confining limitations of such a caged-in view was espoused as patriotic.  And so, the malady which came to be known as Dump the Hump Propriety was duly instituted in a culturally revered, state licensed code of public conduct.
       This fearfully idolized take on social security was so perverted, that as time went by people began to think of this walled in, split apart, factually combative, broken view of the world as the way things were supposed to be.  They accepted their confusion as a divine mystery.  They worshiped Humpty’s mistake; seeing him as a great protector who had prematurely cracked apart so that others would be spared from the consequences of such a mistake.

Throughout the ages, there had been many who had made pilgrimages to this Wall; or to one of the many iconic replicas just like it.  As with all the emoting necessary to make them believe in their own sincerity, they would reenact the pageantry Humpty’s great fall  in order to reenforce that legendary king’s great warning.  Indeed, to be truly proper it had become everybody’s avowed sacred duty to accept the restrictions of their confinement and suffer the incompleteness that must inevitably accompany such limitations.  Occasionally some other challenger would come along with yet another new idea.  But he would either crack himself up trying to climb up the Wall; or even if he did manage to proudly gain a seat, he too would eventually wind down into taking a fall.  Of course this would only serve to further reenforce the Dumpty Syndrome, while adding an updated aspect to its legend.
                                                                                           (... continued ...) 

. . .   . . .

 

      

          (2)    The following, is an excerpt which can be found in Section THREE:
                                               WE SHARE BEDPANS IN THE TOILET OF THE MIND
                                                                    beginning on page 70

 

Beware Of The Spiritual Con Game

 

I call it the spiritual con game.  Not only has it been played with premeditated shrewdness by religions, as well as with ingeniously sneaky psycho-diplomacy by Madison Avenue, but most incredibly, we've so internalized the process that we run it on ourselves continuously.

The first of three steps— ‘the hook’  —in playing the spiritual con game is to tell you something you want to hear: 

“You're a wonderful human being.  You have such potential.  Your soul is divine.  You can be great.”  

So now you are tripping over all your possibilities... like: 

“Gee, do you think so?  Gosh, it's so great to be loved and appreciated.  Golly, you really care for me.”

Next comes the world's greatest excuse— ‘the line’ —in two words: 

“Yes, but...!” 

Watch out for the ‘but,’ it gets you every time.  

“Yes, but you've got a few  problems.” 

And you, the bewildered pigeon, envisioning all your most secret hang-ups and self-tormenting inadequacies asks: 

“But what happened?  I was feeling so fine.  Now it's lost and I'm messed up.  I've got to get back to feeling beautiful.  I'll do anything you say, just get me back to feeling good about myself.”

Finally comes— ‘the sinker’ —the con's third line:

”However...”
That's the closer, the one that gets you, the poor sucker, to dig deep and shell out:

”However if you pay your money, and speak our party's line, you have our permission to be miserable.  Now we never give you permission to be happy.  If you were happy you wouldn't need (to follow) us.”

But the victim gets to be one of the chosen, elected miserable ones.  You get to be among some kind of elite.  And you keep suffering... and suffering... 

This is the spiritual con game:

Yes, you could be sexy ...!  But, your teeth aren't white enough.  However, if you keep using our toothpaste...”  

Or: “Yes, God loves you and will forgive your sinsBut, unless you follow our rules, it will go against the spirit and send you to eternal damnationHowever, by following our path of suffering, you will become redeemed by God to everlasting joy.

Or, by our most insidious internalization of this pattern we turn it against ourselves:
"Yes, I am a good person.  But, if I really express the way I feel, I'd make other people uptight.  However, at least I have a few friends who like me."

––The spiritual con game!

 . . .   . . .

 

        (3)    The following, is a partial excerpt that can be found in Section THREE:

                                                   WE SHARE BEDPANS IN THE TOILET OF THE MIND

                                                                                     beginning on page 92

A Psychic Colonic

   Anyone can quote scriptures--- the ignorant most often do!

        Real Knowledge is is not just having brilliant ideas about something.  Real Knowledge is derived from 'experiential understanding.'

        Even if you quote God's honest truth, yet do not understand why and how it is true, then your words will not convey power.  Rather, they will stir the mind of others, while obscuring their soul.  Such demagoguery is used to lure the confused, vehemently hooking them into a defensive prejudice, conforming them into socially accepted mannerisms, thereby harnessing their collective energy to some power monger's self aggrandizing perspective:

'Damn you who stand blocking the open way; who lack the understanding and courage to go through yourself, and who abuse your position of trust to insure your continued dominance, by determinedly blocking the passage to others!'

Such is the self judgement by which we divide our own awareness, and are consequently conquered by the sufferings of our ignorance generated confusion.

Of course: You can never do more for another than you can do for yourself!  Despite the self delusion of good intentions, anything less than true understanding is at best misleading lip service.

What we can do to our self, we can most certainly do to any other!

Either you understand how something works and have conscious creative control over it.  Or you don't understand, are controlled by your ignorance and suffer from the conflicting restrictiveness of your delusion.

The suffering caused by ignorance generated confusion cuts across every boundary of social disposition.  Parent, child, lover, soldier, athlete, scholar, merchant, student, scientist, artist, philosopher, religious devotee, stoic, hedonist, impoverished, wealthy, acclaimed, or forgotten—  everybody is suffering from the torments of a mind lost in the fragmented factiousness of self delusion.

Always on the move, we flee from that painful part of our mind wherein we have judged our self inadequate.  Even so, we keep right on chasing after that part of the mind which our speculations try to bastardize as compensations.  Agonizingly caught within the birthing contractions of a cracking shell, hatching humanity precariously juggles ‘compensation’ and ‘suffering’ as interpretive substitutes for the apparentness of the world.

Through the fruits of our efforts we are seeking for what will compensate for the suffering we so inevitably seemed doomed to engender.  Self tormenting feelings of fear, doubt, confusion and anxiety further distort into self brutalizing emotions of guilt, shame, anger, jealousy and hate.

If only we knew exactly what is right, good, true and best, then we could leave our suffering behind.  Desperately we strive after the knowledge which we hope will rectify our situation.  We augment circumstance through every conceivable means, only to find that our suffering— in one form or another —continues to stalk our covetous psyches.

Is living the disease or the cure?

Side effects to hell:  Every  discovered form of rectification seems to simultaneously uncover yet another deficiency to be compensated for.  Someday, we promise ourselves, we will know enough to end our suffering once and for all.

We are seeking after a condition of Real Knowledge, undiluted by any shadow of ignorance.  Can such a time exist in space?  Perhaps...  Perhaps it will?  Perhaps it did?:  

Was there not once a Wholeness?  Why once there had never been a ‘why not’ in consideration of a difference.  But how could that be?  

As we have aggrandized our ignorance based suffering into an archetype of unredeemable darkness, so too we have projected an archetype of ultimate triumph over the disparities of our juggling psyches.  Of course we long to be as close as possible to the source of equanimity.  What would we be like in such a state; and how would we function?

Humanity wants to be Self invited to a garden party.  We want to be in a place where fears of death become irrelevant.  We want to eat from the Tree Of Life, yet we approach it through the enchanting deception of insisting that our mental ‘image of self’ never fades away.

Self image is based upon ideas of what one thinks one is.

The Tree of Life has been mistaken for the Tree of Knowledge.

To know things is to divide the whole awareness of Self into the categorical perspectives of ‘selves.’  It is to lose sight of the eternal flow of the moment, and to chase compensations through representative visions of becoming.

Instead of chasing after your tail, instead of dreaming about the end of suffering, might it not be better to stand up for what you feel you are, and let your tail chase after you?

The fruit of the Tree of Knowledge is— ‘self consciousness.’

Seeking to become conscious of Self through knowledge about self only separates you more from actually Knowing.  The more separate you seem to be from the source of Life, the more divided within yourself you imagine you've become.  Trying to compensate, you birth more aspects of this imagined Self— as ‘you’ —into the world, which only further deludes you.  So turned against your own purpose, you dilute and dissipate your vitality.

When you can no longer sustain the self deceiving web of contradictions, you cease to exist as a contrived opinion.  At which point, if you are more identified with ‘image’ than ‘Self,’ death eradicates the illusion of separation, returning this temporarily formed aggregate of energy back under the control of the Self it had never been separate from in the first place.

So what is it that we think we know?

We know about circumstantial appearances, reactive potentials, ranges of motion, response patterns, categorization, classification, structure, discipline, ritual, skill, technique, methodology, and systemizing through the evaluation of whatever symbols we have concocted to compensatingly validate self.  Yet no matter how profound or beneficial— ‘obviously’ —knowledge of things can never truly satisfy.

        Okay, then what is missing; and how do we go about obtaining what we really need?                                                                           (... continued ...)
                                                        . . .   . . .

 

         (4)    The following, is a partial excerpt that can be found in Section FOUR:
                                                                                                          THE DIVINE ALIBI

                                                                                                   on page 147

 

 Wide Awake?

 

You know who you are:  You are the one who is struggling to overcome your suffering... or maybe, suffering to overcome your struggling.  

‘Becoming...’  You are unceasingly motivated to become the compensation for all the inadequacies that haunt your uncertainties.  Here we stand; towering bastions of alibied insecurities; embalmed in mortification by our own ignorance generated confusion.  

‘Ignorance...?’   How could that possibly be?  We paid a damned high price for our self delusion, but at least we got to feed on some of that divinely enticing ‘fruit of knowledge.’  Knowledge of what?:  Gee, the words are clear, but what do their consolatory echoes mean... mean... mean...?

Knowledge, in the form of ideas about yourself is not necessarily knowing one's Self.  But at least you have awakened to where you can start to see yourself as being relatively aware... you believe.  You believe in the magic of wishful thinking; you believe that what you think is how things are.  But how can you really be sure?  And you find you, inside of you... But that can't be?  

How did the impressed become the oppressed?  You are oppressed with thoughts about your impression of yourself.  Remember the structural tenets inherent in that little old ‘Ego Matrix’:  The more you think you want to be, the more separation and loss you emote.  The more you want to get away from what you think you don't want to be, the more emotionally fixated and bound you become.

Yep, if there is one thing you have become undeniably conscious of, it’s the dilemma of trying to get away from your dilemma.  The more you try to pull away from your thoughts, the tighter the noose gets.  The more you try to calm the waters of your emotional turbulence, the more you muck it up.  The more energy you exert in trying observe something, the more unreliably deviated becomes the accuracy of your observation. (Choking and gagging in a menagerie of conditionals that who knows what demands?)   Over and over again it seems that the answer you start out with is the question you wind up with: 

“I am... ain't I...?”  

How devastatingly malicious; the punishment is the crime.  The ‘crime’— as it seems to you; if you are gutsy enough to make such a supposition —is swallowing a relative awareness of irreconcilable possibilities.  What reward does your effort of trying to awaken unto yourself net you?  Irreconcilably, you are punished by being swallowed in an awareness of opposite possibilities.  “Maybe so...?”  Yet on the other hand, “Maybe not...?”  And ‘To be or not to be...?’ is a childishly deluded guessing game.

Spiritually you have joined the ranks of the psychic somnambulists.  You are awake enough to dream, but not yet awake enough to realize it is only a dream.  Your Spirit is sleepwalking; your Ego is awake dreaming.
                                                                                          (... continued...)

 

. . .   . . .

 

(5)    The following is a partial selection that can be found in Section FOUR:
                                                                                                      THE DIVINE ALIBI

                                                                                           on page 147

The Godly Imperative’s Phallic Impertinence

 
(... continued from...)

           For the woman, the image of self has been molded upon feelings, by which you attempt to harmonize with nature.  As the woman, you are in partnership with all of the Goddess's creations.  As long as you are oriented through Nature as a whole, the duality of the intellect does not become divisive opposition.  It simply helps to confirm the interdependent compliment of the Goddess's ways.

Unfortunately, as the man, you are not as intimate as is the woman with the most creative processes of nature.  For you it is all very mysterious.  When feelings began dominating your awareness, you had to adapt to the ways of the woman in order to handle the sense of personal inadequacy that ensued.  To believe in what you don't really understand, is to embody mystery with fear.  You have felt afraid to feel what you want to feel— in control.

Gradually, however, in obedience to the manifesting nature of the Goddess and emulation of the feelings of the woman, the man has accessed new capacities for dealing with the environment.  He has learned to be selective and determined in order to cultivate nature.  Your consciousness is being augmented as you recycle between your outer view of the world and you inner state of mind.  Increasingly the man is learning to cultivate his feelings through symbols.  Gradually he learns to cultivate symbols with symbols.

As the man, you are not seeking partnership with nature or the woman.  Your feelings were predicated on instinctual aggressiveness.  Your objective had been to gain control over various aspects of nature.  You have found that you can obtain some measure control by equivocating your feelings with the spiritual aspects (i.e., ‘essential function’) of objects of nature.  You are seeking to regain control, but now it is through the ‘intellectual based use of symbols.’  

As the objects of raw primitive nature had once yielded to domination by brute physical strength, so too you are discovering that 

your intellect can wrest back control from feelings... 

that the man can wrest back control from the woman... 

that Spirit can wrest back control from Nature...

That the grip of the Goddess's power can be broken by the strength of an idea!

Liberation through idea:  That there is a greater, a more ultimate degree of SELF than the previously felt ultimate degree which the Goddess had come to symbolize.  Because that idea is coming from the man, it takes on the characteristics that have formed his thought processes.  More powerfully in control than what is Great, is what is the Greatest.  

  Seemingly more powerful than the feeling of the Goddess, is the thought of God!

  The task of conquering nature— both inner and outer —by thoughtfully overcoming feelings will require a heroic effort.  As the man, you want to conquer the nature of your fearful feelings.  The matriarchal ways have assuaged your anxiety, but never truly cured it.  Like a virus whose existence is threatened by the overall health of the host organism, fear had encysted itself in a protective shell.  It had lain dormant, its animation suspended in your emotional psyche, awaiting the right conditions which would allow it to once again diabolically propagate.
If allowed, ‘Fear’the archetype of vampires —will suck your soul dry.  Fear is the fiendish emissary of the great devilishness— ‘Ignorance.’  

Fear inhibits your ability to meet life as it presents itself moment by moment, sensation by sensation, edifying possibility by possibility.  In fear you are reduced to the shadowy avoidances of compensating emotions.  To escape from your fear, you inadvertently fixate and are bound more firmly to what you want to get away from.  You are bound to ignorance by your irrational desire to escape from the inadequacy of your denied self doubt.  Since it is fear that overpowers and controls you, you seek to control your fear by emulating what you feel is more powerful than you.  

  Out of fear you emulate fear!  ––Perversely you come to worship your own ignorance!

  What you are most afraid of is to cease existing.  So you capitulate and exist in fear!  You become of the walking dead.  You become dead to allowing yourself to openly respond to the ever unfolding possibilities of each new moment of awareness.  Rather you stalk your prey through the nocturnal shadows of whatever you have emotionally come to feel defines your existence.  The prey you stalk, are those who have neither succumbed to, nor as yet learned how to overcome their own fear.  These others have some sort of rituals which allow them to maintain a precarious balance with the living process.  They may seem sluggish, perhaps dull and deluded.  However, the half understood emotional rituals to which they so desperately cling, seems to enable them to courageously feel optimistic.  Irresistibly pumped up with the heightened physical magnetism that you have bartered your awareness to achieve, you mesmerize your victims, entrancing them into the primitive instinctual bodily cravings they have so vainly been attempting to discipline.  Confused and ashamed, trembling voluptuously in self abandonment, they are as fatted calves awaiting to be sucked into the dark domain of the ‘ultimate excuse’fear.

Once, it had seemed that the all powerful spirits who animated nature wielded the power to control.  But now you have gained just enough knowledge to attempt to wield some of that power yourself.  But even as you gained that knowledge, you became frightfully aware of the fragility of your existence.  And that very fear incapacitates you from gaining the knowledge of how to maintain your existence.  

So you exist in fear of not existing!  

Still you must make do with what it is that you seem to have.  You have limited knowledge that can be harnessed into power by the symbolizing abilities of the intellect.  Is the intellect a tool or a weapon?  It depends on how you relate to it.  If you learn to understand and use your intellect, it is a tool for the advancement of self knowledge.  If you allow it to use you, it is a weapon for defense.  From what are you defending yourself?  

You seek to protect yourself from the fear of your ignorance generated confusion!  

Inadequately however, based upon the unconscious model of aggressive overpowering by physical strength, the only defense you know is to go on the offensive.  Your intellect becomes a weapon through which you can work your will.  You will wield it to cut a swath of self congratulating symbols through your opponent.  Your intellect will enable you to discern that what you want to make yourself believe will give you the power to control your fears.  But this intellectual sword of discrimination is double edged.  You can swing it forward to cut your way through the confusion to clarity.  Or you can hack backwards, imprisoning yourself in the shame and guilt of having murdered your own awareness— ‘self doubt.’
                                                                                            (... continued ...)

. . .   . . .


 
    (6)    The following, is an excerpt that can be found in Section FOUR:
                                                                                              THE DIVINE ALIBI

                                                                                                  on page 210

 Dont Buy Your Own Propaganda

 

In Hell, Heaven is the quintessence of cosmopolitan bigotry.

The emotional compensations for every earth bound idiot's psychological contorting has a liturgical counterpart:  Whereby arcanely deified personas dramatize paradisiacal validations for humanesque avoidances.  With all circuits processing in tempestuously fulfilled syncopation, the characteristic that the hellish find most abominable about Heaven is its threatening competency as a self rewarding bureaucracy.  

From the overpowering omnipresence of the forces of nature; through every vapid variation of idolized totem worship, including conveniently sanctified thought forms as substitutes for knowing; to the politically corrupt, socially expedient bastardization of some of the more advanced teachers who have exemplified on this planet; every rationalized excuse is personified in dietific drag:  

Tribal shamans, nature spirits, sprites, nymphs, pixies, fairies, elves, leprechauns, munchkins, humanized animals, kamikaze martyrs, self negated saints, good witches, benevolent sorceresses, wonderful wizards, sincere politicians, repentant bohemians, inconspicuous sages, divine magicians, cosmic tetrahedrons, devas, angels, archangels, Sephiroth, plus a prestigious multitude of culturally supreme personifications of the Godhead, effervescently farting sincere integrity as a sacred agency for exclusively inclusive absolute truth.  

Can you imagine what is necessary to maintain the mechanics of such ridiculous sanctimoniousness?  

Heaven's principal of unified diversity is sustained in contradistinction to Hell's diversified homogenization.

 

Remember: From the supposedly rational side we had leapt into the abysmal maw of Hell.   It had seemed that we were falling through an ever deepening descent into the depths of delusion.  By grace we were allowed to reach the bottom of the bottomless.  And what do we discover?:

The bottom of the bottomless is the entrance way to the top of the topless.  

Top of the topless—  Is Heaven but an ethereally nudist light show to reward all of humanity's most pious synapses?   From mouth to asshole, it seemed that I had been descending into the depths.  Ah, but such is the  deceptive characteristic of anyone believing in the appearance of separation.  

Upside down, Hell is the hideous perversity of acting through ignorance.  

Inside out, the Devil is the grotesque absurdity of thinking that anything can be separate from God.

Finally I realized:  The mouth of Hell is the asshole of humanity.  Opposites attracting similarities:  From the topsy turvy perspective of humanly compromised fixation, you are being consumed by Ignorance.   From the inside out of Hell, you are being drawn in with the rest of the shit.  Hell feeds on shit and gives off light.  What I had thought was a descent turned out to be an ascent from Supreme Asshole to Divine Appetite.  Now I stood in the asshole of the Devil— ‘Heaven’ —the last portal out of Hell.

Upon reaching Heaven I discovered why it is damn near impossible to get out of Hell:

Sauntering through Heaven:  Sumptuous, delightful, joyous, ecstatic, luscious, aesthetically blissful peace and serenity as a reward for tolerating the hellacious.  The burden of guilt washed away.  The psychic lacerations of unfairness healed; all needs catered to, all problems resolved.  Gardens of loveliness, where you amble in communion with whatever holy personification of the Divine Logos guided you to deliverance.  Salvation as a sales pitch for the ultimate vacation.  If this is Holy Shit, aren't you a bit curious as to the nature of the asshole that delivered you unto it?

Funny thing is you don’t have to go anywhere or do anything.  Just by shifting your thoughts from one holy relic to another sacred possibility, the scenario becomes correspondingly appropriate.  Oh yes, like a purring sex gland, the splendid diversity of sanctified indulgence irresistibly coaxes you into paeans of thankful complacency:

From pagan kick-a-poo blood lust, through Greco-Roman mythologised soap operas; along with mummified presumptuous arrogance as a ritual passport to sometimes always land; and Vedicly codified opportunism allowing for protocol discrimination of the transcendentally subservient; onto ritualized attachment to delusive techniques for achieving detached liberation from illusion; including resentfully guilty Hebraic capitulation to overly authoritarian pillars of fire; mushrooming into vehemently denied sexual repression predicated on the crap shoot of possibilities that you might wind up in a Christian orgy with the Holy Trinity; even into Islamic pleasure gardens of violent indulgence in bigoted supercilious superfluousness.  

Just contemplate, and it was mine for the mere fixation of my mental affiliation.   All of the same crap people had never been able to resolve while in the flesh, inescapably played out with divine sanctification on the psychically amplified chessboard of mentally myopic imaginations.

No matter how tantalizingly promising it all seemed, I found two constants in the conditioning of Heaven:  First; the utter abandonment to emotionally fixated indulgence.  Second; the insinuating dissatisfaction of perennially denied fulfillment.

All these spiritualized bumpkins affected by the effects of their cherished beliefs.  Hey, I may not know many things, but I could at least discern the difference between ‘Cause’ and ‘Principal.’  

The cause of all this religiosity ranged up the scale of socially sophisticated complexity; from primal superstition to strategic martyrdom.  Unfortunately it was obnoxiously obvious that such personified conjectures as blood sacrifices, Confucianism, Taoism, Pyramidical Mummificationism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Paganism, Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and the like have too little to do with truth of Nature, Tao, Krishna, Buddha, Jehovah, Christ or Allah.  How could I tell the difference?  Before I could intelligibly translate an answer, my thoughts were intruded upon.  Heaven, or at least the ethereal facsimile of It, seemed just a little too malleable.  Anyway, when the scene totally rearranged itself around me, I knew I was into some deep shit.

Think of the Devil as the ultimate advertising executive, with exclusive rights to market the one product that It wants everyone to need / want / crave— to consume.  The Devil wants everyone to buy Its ‘come-on.’  To do that It has to come up with the most spectacular sales pitch.  ‘The Product,’ as it is often dubbed in the colloquial vernacular of Hell, is just basic slavish acceptance of your own ignorance.  Of course you wouldn't buy such devastating uselessness on your own.  It has to be dolled up and made more attractive to you.  It needs the right outer wrapping.  What better sales pitch could there be to get you to submit to the hellishness of your self defeating ignorance than to dress it up and market it as ‘Heaven’... many, many different kinds of heaven, with each flying the same contentious banner:  

                                          ONLY THIS IS THE TRUE HEAVEN!

  It seems I had played the spectator long enough for my astuteness to turn a trifle too rancid with sanctimoniousness.  But not to worry:  Whenever I lost ‘Rapture,’ I would be found by ‘Mercy.’  What I needed to get through Hell was the experience of overcoming being in Hell.  And so I was mercifully provided with the appropriate nightmare:
Suddenly gone was any semblance of Heaven.  Streaks of vermin infested discomfort saturated through each other, building up layer upon unnervingly suffocating layer; prejudicing the surroundings into a gagging retching of convulsive hideousness.  
Abruptly I found myself deposited in this bleak, barren supposition-scape of utter despair.  Try as I might, I could no longer influence the appearance of circumstance.  An overwhelming sense of powerlessness assailed me.  Icy hot needles of piercing self doubt insidiously gnawed at my vitality.  Specters of humiliation ridiculed me with insane laughter.  I wanted relief.  But as my mind couldn't vomit, the nausea only increased.  Everything was folding in upon itself in smoky shadows of continuously shifting distortion.
Then, forming before my exhausted gaze, It stepped out of the shadows.  I was confronted by the embodiment of self mockery.  Repulsively compelling, introductions were unnecessary.  Instantly I recognized that Hell had sent its Lord to master me.  In scornful contempt the archetypal impresario of all soul suckers stood glaring at me in bemused triumph.  Like an infectious tongue on an erogenous zone, wanton wraiths of irresistible desirability issued forth from Its aura; lascivious phantoms embodying into suggestive delight.  Gorgeous with deceit, soon a festive circle of beckoning figures had formed around me.  It riveted me with Its glance, burning inside my mind in sickening telepathic communication, that was all the more frightening as it suavely reverberated soothing comfort through my thoughts:
            "So you wanted to see My Domain... indeed, you are most welcome.  Actually, you have been expected.  I knew you were coming.  I have been waiting for you...!"
                                                                  (... continued ...)

. . .   . . .


   
           (7)    The following, is an excerpt that can be found in Section FOUR:
                                                                                 THE DIVINE ALIBI

       on page 234

   Them Resurrection Blahs

                                                                                          (... continued from ...) 
 

However, as so far formed, Humanity's shape shifting countenance bore the bizarre composite of competitively compensating, psychically constipated incompleteness.  The brilliantly inventive, creatively courageous, pioneering, heroic genius of myriads of successful souls dotted its noble features, like the neurotic reformations of a pointillist sand painting.  Legion are the benefits achieved through the efforts of its determined adherents.  Still, Humanity stands as a nebulous catalog of superlative, yet incomplete accomplishments.  For up to this point in its development, Humanity was but a compromised derivation from the tenets of its own indoctrinated upbringing.

You see, Humanity has yet to define itself in terms of its true potential.  Certainly we have constructed systems, techniques and methodologies based upon clear and concise discernment of the structural components relevant to any relative consideration.  But up till now, our orientations have always been to break free of the restrictive repercussions of the socially entrenched dogmatism of the ignorantly superstitious.  So far Humanity has been a proud procession of reasonably escalating rebellions against the debilitations of its culturally compulsive toilet training.  From noble savage, to incorruptible public servant; from the adventurously aesthetic neo-bohemian to the outlandishly rebellious muckraker; from devotional pure adept to scientifically validated speculator; through every pathway, there have been those who in their questing for freedom were forced to buck the odds.  At stake was their honor, and the reliability of their faith in the courage of their convictions.

Upon this ‘Rock’ I shall build the perfected incompleteness of an aspect of the Truth, whose dependency upon social compliance must eventually undermine its own virility.  This latest installment of the ‘Rock’  shall be the foundation of the updated Law; but it comes with an auto-destruct deficiency.

True Law is inscribed within the Heart as Justice!

No partially codified manifestation of it can ever fully satisfy.  Those who follow the Law in their Heart must inevitably come to challenge its socially diluted representation.  

In the present, the only thing the past can be is dead and gone.

‘Truth’  is a living breathing witness to the ever evolving apparentness of change.  Truth is the catalytic agent of its own catharsis.  No matter how viable and accurate a perspective on apparent manifestation, if it fails to keep pace with what the current evolution of humanity needs, it inadvertently must spawn— what to the established morality of the currently entrenched bureaucracy are —sinners to liberate it.  For those whose nervous systems are processing at a more encompassing rate than some currently deified pronouncement of truth can cover, there is dissatisfaction.  If in sincerity you subscribe to the doctrinal coordinates of a truth, yet it  proves inadequate to the interaction of your needs, then by inadequacy you will commit the ‘sin of omission.’  Your failure to do what the situation necessitates that you are capable of doing, will traumatize those who are as yet incapable of even fulfilling the basic tenets of a given truth into violating its credibility through ‘sins of commission.’

Truth that is inadequate to the demands of the time sires outlaws!

There will be those whose lack of developmental integration causes them to savage the social institutions founded upon some truth.  While there are those who will extract the essence of a truth, stash it into their eclectic perspective, rewiring it to the ad hoc sublimations of whatever newly emerging qualities of perception that circumstance is presently necessitating through them.  These truth seeking champions of the underdoggy side of a reigning truth will rock until they can roll the rock around.  In fairness they will proclaim that there is a validity to the ‘Rock,’ but its monopolistic entrenchment is self defeating to the irrepressible evolution of the human spirit.  Foundationally, a rocky truth both covers and supports other aspects of truth.  Not only will the determined examine the ramifications of the current foundation for social justification, but they will also assess the highs and lows of its predecessors, while continuously searching for more operable plausibility.

 

And the beat goes on:  From involuntary spasmodic contortionists assertively vomiting mortality paranoia in jigaboo euphemisms of pre-primitive self consciousness; into the detailed ritualistic acting out of those emotionally conjectured personifications that are used to front for the political blackmailing of human destiny; through the miming of self congratulatory nuances eschewing the culturally pedigreed syncopation of ersatz aesthetics; free flowing into the grace of physical abandon as an intellectual exercise in neo-classic instinct; tripping through the scatological convulsive petrification, mass merchandised as a jazzed trip-bop placation for the exuberance of modernistic mediocrity; wafting into a techno-monstrous melange of media mystic economic fornications, which hypnotize into a bi-pass valve for blase elitist hucksters...  Humanity a go-go...!  Zippity-who-what...?

Particles of waves, waving particles— It's only rock and roll...!

Consider the absence of conditions involved in playing ‘The Game’ with those awarenesses whose conscious activities are based on already being beyond game playing.

‘Who Am I...?’  Turn this initiatory substitute around and you can become the Causal Dimension's next declaratory password.

Because I had attained Causal perception, it had become my ‘choice.’  Or rather it is the choice of my being...  ‘What?’

Am I to be part of a cause, or am I to be the cause of a part?  

Even at my most preposterous did I dare to suppose that I could function as the integrative cause of Humanity coming of age?  And then what?:  Do I go vibration to vibration with the all compassionate, all loving, all sacrificing, all sanctifying promised deliverance of each one of these still hail and hardy, presumptuously self effacing, competitively exclusive, all embracing world systems?

Okay, so we are all ‘One’— Which one?  Something was still missing.  It reminded me of when as a child I was treated to some of the more brilliant pronouncements of great minds.  At first I would be taken aback by accuracy of their implications.  But upon observing those around me I realized that no matter who knew what, something was still missing.   Because despite their coverup protestations, people were obviously trapped in the vexing pain of emotional self torment.  And so it is that I suddenly found my Self in the realization that all these world systems of divine consideration, along with the so far conceptualized striving of Humanity have so far still proven to be inadequate.  Before I moved on to leave the perfection of Cause to the cause of sewing the discord of perfection onto unto Humanity's still forming countenance, in a blessing of what must eventually be fulfilled, I leveled my declaration— 

                            “I am the One that nobody was expecting!”

  Laughter— soul de-constipation's archetypal meta-laxative —engulfing my awareness.  Permeating  jubilation decimating my certain uncertainty.  Permutations of irrelevance, as my awareness is blown out of affiliation with my concept of Self:
Ah, so— ‘Blowing minds is the giving of Cosmic Head!’

I had been having a menage a trois with ‘Mercy’ and Her spiritually orgasming counterpart, ‘Rapture.’  They had tele-psychically seduced me:
        “It is all alright.  To help you to become a true sweetheart, We will make it safe enough for you to explore your need to be a total fucking asshole...”

Laughter syncopates both sides of the equation.  Having climaxed beyond the respective implications of Mercy's deliverance and Rapture's satisfaction, energy did not matter, and matter did not energize.  Now a Veil of blinding clarity was revealing itself to be the Ultimate Mother figure.  I am hatching into the formation of an egg within the All Mother's  psychic womb.  A cracking shell mirroring fractiously reflecting alibis of Desire's appetite into aggregates of refractive dissolution.  Shattered shards of previous importance tingling essentials through transformation.  Peels of inconceivable promises roared in the bellowing tinkles of an unvoiced entreaty.  

As soft, with the utter tenderness of a finger on a doomsday button, She reached forth to comfort this cradleless offspring.

In the Causal Dimension's killing ground of disseminating conceivability, I had come mind to mind with the possible implications of implied possibilities.  Between the understanding I had been seeking and the Source of all Understanding there seems to be the Veil of Wisdom.  In  allowing me to reach the pinnacle of my conjectures, Mercy  had enabled me to expose the impotency of my Self deceptive prison of conceptualized liberation.                                                                    (... continued ...) 

. . .   . . .

  (8)    The following, is an excerpt that can be found in Section Four:
                                                                                           THE DIVINE ALIBI

                                                                                                  on page 250

 

 Involutional Immanence

 In the body politic of the human psyche there is a Cosmic Heart Song.  Its preternatural melody embodies the pulse of life.  In a language which presupposes the sacred, it intuits the legend of the first formation.  While Genesis tells a story of Existence's creation, this is the seductive suggestion of the Archetype of archetypes, the Origin of origins, the beginninglessness of beginning.

 

From the imperceptible balance point of non existent equilibrium, an impulse distinguishes oblivion.  The dormancy of consciousness is made palpable by an image of its own indifference.  

Equilibrium manifests as a non conductive demarcation, functioning in the guise of perpetual motion.

Awareness stymies into an enigma of non-discriminating enthusiasm.

Unborn, unrealized unawareness wanders aimlessly through the non existent potential of the unsupposed possibility of all that could be.

At the center of gravity there is stasis, where there is nothing to be attracted and nothing to attract.  

Nothingness being discovered by indifference is enthusiasm inchoate.  

Such enthusiasm is THE FOOL'S foolishness.  

It saunters indiscriminately, barely touching the tread of unhatched abstractness.  Energy as the heartthrob of unassumingness, illumination as a substrate for being, where the folly of caring is unperturbed by the absence of anything to care about.

Life's potential, the potency of all that is yet to be imagined, resides in this meandering figure of personified glad rags, stepping gingerly through the abstract summits of yet to be formed possibilities.  The countenance of this iconic prototype of meta-joyous irreverence is an androgynous invitation to trans-perennial adoration.

Garbed in the free flowing vortices of manifest creation, ‘THE FOOL’ never minds the teasing enticements of precipices.  Walking always onward; as the fornicated impotency of a tightrope materializes each step along the still same continuity of nothing.

In one hand, grasped with the delicacy of a fluttering wish, is the already fulfilled evolution of perfectly integrated purity.  In the other hand is the Wand of wands, the Staff of Life, the phallic instigator ecstatically potentiating up the cosmic libido of some would be phantom deity, anticipating their dream as the bona fide illusion of reality.  At the end of this Wand is a satchel containing the great mystery which some have called the ‘Will of God.’

In charmed excitement, foolishness nips at the heals of THE FOOL:  "Notice me, touch me, love me, make me into reality by deeming to care."  The beast, as yet so beastless...  Life, as yet unrealized...  The primal spirit craving a wilderness to alibi for ravenous indulgence, hypnotized by its own potential, shadow playing as friendliness in between the yet unmoving strides of Destiny.  Friendliness trying to trip contented indifference into the foolishness of caring.  Well, since there as yet is no ‘why not’ in consideration of a difference, THE FOOL deems to notice.

Energy follows consciousness!  

Plunging over the edge of supreme irrelevance, THE FOOL trips, falls and plummets into becoming the opaque illusion of coalesced differences.

  "So HERE I AM":  !...I AM... BECOMING THAT ...AM I...!
No fooling— The Fool has come to fool around.

Planting the Wand of Involution in the utter fertility of SELF consideration, the flagging satchel flutters, wafting ripples through the possible frequency striations of omni-dimensionality.  From beneath the All Knowing vision that has sealed the Great Mystery, The Fool removes the contents and starts shuffling them into homeostatic temperaments:

“Now that I AM here, I might as well play at THAT!”

The Fool deals SELF into the Space of becoming.

Playing the game of Life: “What is to be the first card I deal in the LIFEGAME...?”  

What is to be the primal reference point by which Divine Foolishness is personified into the mask of Existence?

There is a point that will start the game, set in motion the measurement of all existence, differentiate into potential, direct the construction of the archetypes that polarize change through perceptual awareness, and distinguish into dimensional frequencies of interpenetrating, interrelating Nature.  Gee, to do it all, that point is going to have to be the most incredible fucking magician.

 

  Mind is THE MAGICIAN!
Mind is the go between of Divine Indifference and determined effort.

Non Being primalizes into Being as Mind; then transmits through levels of perception into the Space of Existence; which contemplates into becoming the completed realization of Self through Time.

By its action Mind / Awareness structures the territory of Creation into the manifest abundance of aggregating sensuality that is the ‘becoming’ of Nature.

Mind is The Fool, foolish enough to take Its own fooling around seriously!
                                                                                            (... continued ...) 

. . .   . . .

    

 (9)    The following, is an excerpt that can be found in Section FOUR:
                                                                                               THE DIVINE ALIBI

                                                                                               on page 267

 

Evolutionary Eminence

 

        I'd rather be alone with the truth, then crowded with a lie!

   There comes a point in human unfoldment when your personal karma is settled.  No longer do you engage situations through the strained subconsciously fixated slurring of your socio-cultural toilet training.  The indebtedness of consciousness to your spirit has been paid.  The psychomotional potential of your neurobolic has been individually actualized.  Your senses have become honed to exquisite sharpness.  Adaptively your feelings thrust through each flick of apparent circumstance, cutting, response by response, penetrating through the living synchromesh of apparent reality.

Having liberated yourself from the cerebral dislocation of temporality, you have come to realize that life is far more than a passing associative reflex of light show images, previously characterized by the senseless tyranny of fixated reactive patterns.  Never again will you be enslaved by the interpretive delusions of trying to compensate for your sublimated denial.  At last you are free to discover what Life truly is.

As a flow through focalization, you observe as apparent circumstances well up like a gossamer tapestry, a vibrating undulating gauzy overlay of dancing neurons, pulsating to each moment by moment focus of your awareness.  Each precious moment, precociously budding into view, waxing into leafiness, flaming into distinguishability, then witheringly falling into the rotting nurturing fecund remains of a memory.  But now you are able to discern that all these appearances, including the one you have always interpreted yourself to be, are but a collectively shimmering canopy of surface foliage responding to the distinct positioning of the branch extended germinations of each twig that supports them.

Whereas the leafy apparentness will come and go, the twig supporting it will remain.  So you are filled with wonder for that which you truly are.  As in wonder you see that there are myriad other twigs coming out of just one small branching of a vast, incalculable intertwining of ever more encompassing branches:

Appearance sustained by ideas... ideas structured by consciousness... consciousness dimensionalized through branching levels of perception... perception supporting multiverses of possible manifestation... manifestations truncated from the archetypal designs of awareness into the potentiality that somehow, beyond comprehension, the All of Everything looms as the speculative source of utter Self acceptance.

How can it be?  You hunger without need; desireless, you are filled with desire.  Gently searing, ecstatic waves of orgasmic deliciousness pulsate like a solid block abyss of fluid malleability, transfiguring your neuro-logistics.

From the entertaining inconsequentiality of the shadows seemingly cast by the leafy falling of each dying appearance, to the utter actualization of the All Being Absence which masquerades as Existence, your awareness is an inseparable part of this TREE OF LIFE.  Herein distinguishability depends on the part of THE TREE with which you are able to resonantly syncopate your consciousness.

Half in primitive nobility, and half in enlightened savagery, as the nature reborn progenitor of civilization's humoresque sacrifice to progressive superficiality, you leap from the coalesced groundwork of shadowed appearance, and grabbing hold of a low overhanging branch, swing yourself effortlessly towards the ascent of your roots.

 

The first thing you discover is your place in the scheme of things.  Your awareness of THE WORLD becomes totally transformed, yet nothing has changed.  Unmistakably THE WORLD is the sensually perceived universe of manifest nature.  It is Kingdom Come, but in opaque haphazard unawareness of Self as a non-reflecting mirror.

Through The Word sounded World of Self inflecting manifestation, the Root of Life shapes awareness into an evolutional springboard.  But now, even as you swing from the lowest branch of Life's fornicating totem, you are beginning to be able to discern the actuality of The World, without filtering it through the distortions of your personalized bias.  You can see yourself in the world, as part of the whole of its interplay.  Yet even more fascinating, you have begun viewing everything, without having to resort to yourself as an identifiable point of focus.

THE WORLD, supported  by the same structure that limits it, hangs upon the cross of all that is potentially intrinsic to the four primal levels of fixed compliment:  Earth and water, air and fire / physical and feeling, thought and experience.  In Tantric fusion, the Nature of Existence— as the Madonna nymphomaniac, as the vaginal archetype incarnate —exquisitely rotates on the axis of God's permanent erection.  The Divine instigator of Life's mysteries, the ultimate hermaphrodite, seductively displaying the nourishing comfort of breast suckling promises, while taunting with the threatening supposition of concealed genital potency, resonates in spatially indifferent suspension, nailed to the ever mobile kinetic fecundity of The Creator's appetite.

Like the unassuageably satisfied ultimate cheerleader, wriggling in the grand celestial umbilicus of uninterruptedly suspended ecstatic serenity, THE WORLD, garbed as the epitome of irresistible feminine enticement, coaxingly twirls in each hand the bipolar displacement of seminally potentiated Divinity.  Testicular ovaries, appropriated by the most foolish sense of humor, approximating as an indistinguishable, continuously recycling, let's pretend transmutation, milked into a spurting transmission of spiritual juiciness, cornucopially radiating into light vectors as the ever regenerative fount of Creativity.

Change is always immediately present; everything else is just preparation leading up to change!

In being nourished by the TREE OF LIFE, you have consciously entered upon the path of Self Actualization.  At last you can begin dealing with the world unadorned by the compromises of human interpretation.  You realize that although you have always been on the Path, up till now you had been ignorant of The Way.  Now, no longer threatened by the devilish deceptions of ignorance, you are ready to discover the true nature of things.

The world within and the world without are but a flow through refractive index for referencing awareness.

Now you are able to integrate the interactive range inherent in experience through the perceptual rates of sense, feeling and thought.  The disciplines and subsequent technologies of science, art and philosophy are your tools for functionally leveraging experience.

 

Ah, the splendor of an open mind!  In expanding beyond the normally conditioned limits of perception you are discovering that the ‘why’  behind every seemingly irreconcilable contention of every apparent circumstance is utterly reasonable.

Reason is the foundation of Spirit!

At last the whole fucking mess makes sense.  When you rise beyond the distortions of your personal subconscious fixations, you start to syncopate with the various strata of formative energy shaping appearance.  This is the Great Subconscious of THE WORLD.  This is not the blood thirsty, wishy-washy alibied advertisements of insistently obsessive beliefs.  This is not some idiosyncratic drum beat of vaguely mysterious possibilities jerking your strings.  This heralding clearly reveals, even as it harmonizes the individual unconscious, subconscious and conscious aspects of mind towards coherent understanding.  For truly, the mind capable of responding to the beneficent urging of celestial harmonics, is a mind that having died to what it thought self to be, is awakening in splintered unison to the guiding frequencies of Self discovery.  The spirit of such an awakened one must integrate around the reasonably refined faculties of a mind responsive to a higher, more inclusive pitch.

          Upon awakening from the wold of appearance into the consciousness of The World, the difference between conceiving an energy relation and experiencing related energies becomes unavoidable.  Afloat upon a sea of awareness, you stand begging to receive the means of achieving integrated functional control.  Such discernment can only be refined through accurate observation.  And... JUDGEMENT is visited upon you.

 (... continued ...)

 

. . .   . . .