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-=:::[ Liber Soliloquium oOo IBOX and the Blue Bird ]:::=-
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. Subfigura vel Requium Caeruleus .
"I had no reason to be over-optimistic,
It's just that somehow ... when you smiled
I could brave bad weather."
-From _Tommy_ by The Who
Hi everybody, it's me again. Blue.
Wow, it's been a MINNIT since we've spoken, eh?
To all of my friends out there, I continue to wish you my very
best and to all those who've not yet come to realise the
Interconnectedness of the Tau and perceive themselves to be
Caerulean Nemeses or whatever, I still wish you no evil --
What You Do, Do With Passion, just do it the f*ck away from me,
*sswipes!
In any event this little story's been bouncin' around my noggin
for the past few days now so that must mean it's tyme for oneamy
::: Patented Posts ::: again. As always, all Tales of the Bright
Blue Bard are TRUE and no names have been changed to either
protect or endanger anyone. Just further proof that ...
==================================================
::: All Impressions Of Brother Blue Are Wrong! :::
==================================================
[Begin boiler-plate disclaimer]
"We can neither confirm nor deny any such allegations at the
present time but suffice it to say that if such rumours did
not exist -- and abound -- we would have to create them."
[End boiler-plate disclaimer]
Some few years ago -- prolly about 3 or 4 years ago or so,
it's hard to tell as we're no longer very ... umm ... "strong"
on doing the time thing with any real accuracy or conviction,
the very notion of time itself being a highly illusory (albeit
oftimes Damn Compelling) quasi-linear obfuscatory construct,
seemingly indemic to precious little more than simply This
Present Level of "reality" -- we ended up "accidentally"
Connecting with a Most Beautiful Being who brought a great
deal of both insight and hopeful resilience into our then
beleaguered existence.
One absurdly and irritatingly early mourning (prolly somewhere
in the vicinity of about 4:00am or so) when we were having
difficulty sleeping, camped out -- as we were -- in our
Gilligan's Island Twilight Zone Nudist Colony Retreat Magickal
Universe (which was, in mere mundane terms, a makeshift tent
made of scavenged, no longer clean blankets off the side of
the 163 Freeway) seemingly out of The Blue came a little bird
who parked himself on the branch of a tree no more than 20'
away from our "Lodge" and began blasting out a rather
surprisingly eclectic and variegated array of bird-calls and
songs.
::: To Kill a MockingBird :::
[begin downward aspect of sinusoidal psycho-emotional bipolar
waveform]
Being in an uncharacteristically fowl mood that morning, we
were neither over-joyed nor appreciative of such irritatingly
inappropriate Tonal Pollyannish Optimism so we just whomped up
a Thought-Bubble(tm) which we telepathically fired over at him,
consisting essentially of the following vibe:
"What the F*CK are YOU so G*DDAM happy about, *SSHOLE!?!"
But instead of retreating at my antagonistic mind-missile, he
just began singing all the louder! Anyways, I felt somewhat
relieved when he decided to fly off right about dawn, just
hoping that'd be the last I heard of that accursed Winged Warm
'n Fuzzy Love 'n Light-er.
Yet then, the very next day, AGAIN at the OBSCENE hour of about
4:00am, there he was AGAIN! HOURS before any of the other birds
began chirping! And with all those damn birdcalls and disgustingly
optimistic little songs of his! So I fired off another volley of
"What the F*CK are YOU so G*DDAM happy about, *SSHOLE!?!" bombs
his way and in response, he just started singing ALL THE LOUDER!
Completely ignoring my stern attempts to msilence and chastise
the li'l bugger!
"Can you even believe the NERVE of that impudent little B*stard!?,"
I thought angrily to myself. Same branch, same time, same d*mn
enraging uber-optimism, same happy little songs, etc. So I
attempted to stroll down the M-Path (empath) and get into his
little bird-brain to find out just where in the h*ll he was
coming from. But each time I sought to look inside him, he'd
bar my entrance and just sang all the more defiantly, more
optimistically and with more volume!
So this went on for days. And weeks! EVERY morning!
And oddly, what started out as an intrusive annoyance eventually
gave way to a begrudging acceptance and finally to an outright
appreciation of that noisy li'l b*stard. In fact, I couldn't
help but notice that each day or two he seemed to add a new song
to his increasingly enormous array of tunes. And after all the
weeks of our interactions, his impressive repertoire was prolly
the closest thing this broke-*ss mutha-f*gguh'd ever get to
having an Ipod(tm).
'Course, at that tyme I was SO out of touch I thought they were
called Ibox-es.
Hence the name "Ibox."
That's what I began calling him in my mynde. And I actually
grew to love and respect the little bugger. And even found
myself occasionally waking up earlier than 4 and even looking
forward to his inexorable appearance and the delightful music
that Indomitable Spirit would bring.
Synchronistically, when we eventually began receiving our
Relatively Holy Nut Checks and were finally able to rent a
room at The Palms:
[ http://www.sandiegoreader.com/weblogs/autobiography-channel/2010/feb/14/tales-of-the-palms-hotel-living-in-downtown-san-di/
],
...IBox showed up the next mourning in a tree just through the
courtyard and across the street from our window! He was there
for that one morning only ... as if to wish us a peaceful
transition back into this present mundane reality known as The
Land of the Living -or- as we've grown to call it; _Backwards
Prison Planet of the Apes_.
"Better get yourself together darlin',
Join the human race,
How in the world you gonna see,
Laughin' at fools like me,
Who on earth d'you think you are,
A super star,
Well, right you are."
-John Lennon, _Instant Karma_
[ http://www.lyrics007.com/John%20Lennon%20Lyrics/Instant%20Karma%20Lyrics.html
]
::: Apple Martini :::
One night some Late Nite Now that was not This Now but an
earlier Now prolly somewhere around 100 - 200 or 300 of your
solar days ago, I was walking around the gaslamp:
[ cf: http://gothere.com/sandiego/gaslamp/g_street.htm ]
...and happened to notice a shiny circular platter out in
the middle of the street. I was drawn to it and -- I must
admit -- somewhat intrigued by the fact that not only did
it turn out to be a CD (I have a real "thang" for music and
have oft been absolutely delighted to discover Bold New
Tunage via "accidentally" found GroundScore(tm) CDs) but
that there was naught scribbled upon it save the crudely
line-art rendered imagery of an Apple and a Martini Glass,
followed by some digits [ 267-591-3188 ] which turned out
to be a New York based cellphone #.
Upon returning home, I washed the Dustin off my Arms and
popped that sucker onto the player; enabling it to render
the following Issue-o-RAP:
"I'm Apple Martini and I'm laughin' at my haters ...
Run the Mutha-F*ckers through a f*ckin' cheese grater.
Go insane, Psycho!
Yeah! Go inSANE psycho!
GO insane psycho, yuuh, go inSANE psycho!"
And I was struck by the succinctness and poignancy of the
stratagem. It was brilliant, if not anarchistically elegant
in it's begrudging simplicity. When you're up on your cloud
and others despise your happiness, RATHER than letting them
drag you down into their vile cesspools of mud-puddled misery
(as they evidently loathe the notion of taking a few steps up
a ladder to join you on your Happy-Place Cloud), just set your
Shields on Full, your phasors just a couplea notches past Stun
and fire a return volley at 'em ... meeting their intrusive
telepathic assault with an TEMP (i.e. a telepathic electro-
magnetic pulse) of your own devising and letting the resultant
Shock Wave ShockWave(tm) the contemptuous b*stards right back
into the foul little puddles-o-poop from whence they came!
::: Tried & True(tm) --> The Tinfoil Helmet :::
[ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tin_foil_hat ]
A tin foil hat is a piece of headgear made from one or more
sheets of aluminium foil or similar material. Alternatively
it may be a conventional hat lined with foil. One may wear
the hat in the belief that it acts to shield the brain from
such influences as electromagnetic fields, or against mind
control and/or mind reading; or attempt to limit the
transmission of voices directly into the brain:
flits, opvlieging, vlagsignaal, glans, glimp, grijns,
nieuwsflits, zaklamp, plotse verdamping, trip (drugs),
knipperen, een lichtsignaal geven, stromen, opvlammen,
plots verschijnen, vliegen, uitbreken, potloodventen,
plots begrijpen, volstromen, (doen) opvlammen, (doen)
reflecteren, zwaaien met, met een laag bedekken, aan
licht blootstellen (negatief), protserig, et cetera
ad ridiculum.
::: Iggy (Pop) & The Ostrich :::
[ http://www.anysonglyrics.com/lyrics/t/Teddybears/Punk-Rocker-Lyrics.htm
]
Some centuries ago when we were still married, we had a pet
Iguana (Iggy), sho had also developed his own methodology for
keeping at bay the telepathic assaults of others while
diligently maintaining a Positive Outlook On Life. This
particular reptilian modality was not altogether different
from that employed regularly by thst Odd Bird, The Ostrich
[ http://www.think-aboutit.com/ufo/aviary_the_aquarium.htm ],
who has singlehandedly engraved in stone the Hide Your Head
in the Sand strategy:
[ http://www.cartoonstock.com/directory/O/OSTRICH.asp ].
When Iggy'd be layin' around, eventually one of the cats'd
come up and begin sniffing his face. Quite an intrusion,
granted. Iggy'd ALWAYS resort to the same evidently effectual
liturgy: he'd raise his upper torso by straightening his front
legs, slam his eyes TIGHTLY shut, drop his pointed, green-fan-
esque do-lap and evidently silently repeat the following mantra:
"This is NOT happening to me ... This is NOT happening to me!"
Different strokes, etc.
::: Susie ... Susie Creamcheese (?) :::
[ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suzy_Creamcheese ]
Over the years, we've found it of some tangential interest to
observe and subsequently attempt to disect/decrypt and/or
understand some of the various disparate psychological processes
at play in the myndes of some of the other whackjobs (ONLY from
The Myndes of Minolta!
[ http://photo.net/sony-minolta-slr-system-forum/00TXTM ])
...we've encountered along the way.
One such is the occasionally delightful character who swears
up and down that SHE was/is the very same "Suzie Creamcheese"
referred to by Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention. She
can be a good bit of fun to get high and get naked with but
Oy Vey(!), I'm absolutely CERTAIN she has GOT to be one of
the main reasons the now-cliche line "STFU B4 I shove my d*ck
in your mouth!" was originally coined. I started a joke about
her some months back which went, "How do you know when Suzie's
lying? When her mouth is open." IOW -- in quintessential
tweaker form -- not a SINGLE word she says is EVER true.
In any event, it turns out that this exasperating li'l wench
was subject to far more than her share of abuse, incest and
molesatation during her flamboyant yet traumatic childhood
(cf: MPD / DID). The strategy she evidently developed and
polished over tyme was to lie about anything and everything
which was even moderately unpleasant, continuing to morph-
ologically idealise such situations until they became -- in
her memory (cf: FMSF) -- palatable and eventually even
pleasant; the story continuing to wax increasingly vacuous
and absurd with each subsequent retelling.
Now I try to be accepting and non-judgemental about as much
as possible so, in that light, I have no place in mocking or
unnecessarily demolishing a strategy which -- for her, in
any event -- has been at least somewhat effectual.
Hey -- if it works for her, fine.
And hey -- if Apple Martini's strategy works for him, fine.
And if you don't mind waxing overly avian/reptilian, and
that works for you, fine.
And if you can manage to rustle up some Reynolds Wrap to
stave off the relentless telepathic intrusions this Way Too
Many Peoples Packed Into Way Too Small A Space So Everyone's
Thoughts Are Bonking Off Of Yours is so infamous for
promulgating, fine.
But personally, I've grown increasingly fond of the approach
employed by my Precious Wing-ed Little Brother, Ibox.
Just keep singin' your song and don't let the *ssholes win by
turning YOU into one of THEM.
After all, _I'm Not OK, You're Not OK -- But That's OK_.
[ http://www.shambhalasun.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=2263&Itemid=0
]
All the best to all of you;
-Blue
-=oOo=-
-Brother Blue, B:.B:., 33°, 8°=3°
http://www.bleujefe.com/BB/
Dr. Blue Resonant Human, Ph.D.
Interdimensional Intelligence Analyst
Sacerdotal Knights of National Security
An Equal-Opportunity Mystickal Fraternity
USENET Meme Acquisition and Propagation Directorate
brotherblue93 at ]-[ot|\/|ail dot com dot org dot gov dot mil
'Ad hoc, ad hoc and Quid Pro Quo ... So little time, so much to know.'