I’ll try to explain. I was searching on eBay for the values of baseballs — I have a bunch from Jimmy Piersall, thought I’d keep one and sell the rest along with photos of Jimmy from my photo journalism days, 1964-1972, when I worked for Chuck at Tiger Beat / Monkee Spectacular Magazines, edited MOD Teen Magazine, and was official photographer at RCA and Columbia Records. I made a photo record of the sixties, I guess you’d say. Anyhow, I was ploughing through the “for sale” junk on eBay and I came across a weird “baseball” card…it contained a clipping of Abraham Lincoln’s hair. Knowing about braided widow’s lockets, I wasn’t surprised. Also for sale on that day were a lock of hair from King George III (that’s the “Georgian” Period of furniture & architecture, get it???), George Washington (George vs. George?) and a number of others, including several hundred thousand (I’m not joking or exaggerating) clippings, lipstick kisses, lingerie swatches, bikini swatches, high heel cut sections and you wouldn’t believe what-all these folks will sign and sell.
What folks, exactly, you ask?
Back in 1965-67 I worked for a guy named Phil. Phil had a photo studio in back of his model agency, his management company and his booking agency. When a young girl showed up in Hollywood expecting to be “discovered” at Schwab’s Pharmacy soda counter, she’d go to someone like Phil to get her “4-ups” and glossies made to show around town.
I photographed on the average of 20-25 young hopefuls a day, then went to Phil’s Topanga Canyon home, right near where Jan and I lived, to run the negs and print the next day’s deliveries. I was fast and accurate, and Phil kept me there as long as I wanted the work. I got to use his incredible darkroom for my own shots, so it was a win/win situation for us both.
In the Old Days, a model was a model was a model. Not anymore. What you’re expected to do now is pose nude for a Playboy spread — almost anyone with public exposure can pose for Playboy now. Then you attend “signings”, some public, some private. You’re photographed in bikinis, high-heeled spike shoes, all sorts of fetishy gear.
The stuff is packed into collectible sports cards, then handed to you at the signing desk to autograph. You’ll typically sign about 100-500 items at such an event. Those things are then packaged up for wholesale distribution in sealed boxes, etc.
Of course, in addition to all this fun, there are some serious and time-consuming things you’re expected to do, some of which come under the heading of “fun”, but the fun will soon vanish into the landscape of repetition and boredom, overwork and too much hedonism. There’s a tolerance limit, and it’s soon reached. From then on, it’s all downhill, and welcome to it.
The net result is that somewhere along the line there’s a small sports card with a nude or nearly nude lady on it, with a snip of her hair (the long straight stuff is the cheapest, at about $50-$100 a pop, the shorter curlier stuff runs into the thousands) or a swatch from her thong, bra or other intimate item.
Worn stuff is far more money than stuff that wasn’t worn. A little perfume on the item goes a long way to making it more profitable for the producers.
Naturally, it’s the producers who end up with the money. The models make a decent wage, but the job doesn’t last long — you’re washed up at 22.
In the Puja Biz, you don’t wash up at 22, 32, 42 or even a hundred and two, because you’re not selling the body and all its wonderful promise. Try a bikini spread at age 102 and see how many baseball cards you sell.
Men react to what they see. Men react to what they see. Men react to what they see.
You can add to that with smells, movement, cosmetic enhancements, but don’t forget that if you live long enough, you’ll go through a half dozen or more major shifts in what’s considered beautiful and sexually attractive. No matter what your plans might be, Great Nature has Plans for you, and they include procreation.
They also happen to include hunting, fishing, gardening, childcare, crop cultivation, herb hunting, and of course irrigation, but that’s another matter entirely. Humans don’t live naturally anymore, and won’t, until Circumstances demand it — such as the collapse of modern civilization, an event I’m here as a Galactic Historian to witness and record, and I’m 72, so it can’t be much longer we’ll have to wait.
Ah, yes…I reminded myself of the actual subject — Hot for Puja Altar-Warmer Sports Cards… So it occurred to me that I could craft up some of those things for Second Life, which I did. Not all the products involve sexy female figures, as you can see above.
This morning, I thought I’d translate the Hot for Puja line into an actual paper product, and Marvette and I are working at that project even now as we text. (Speaking Out Loud is no longer permitted or practiced in public).
So where did “Hot for Teacher” and “Hot for Words” get translated into “Hot for Puja”???
Simple. The other day, someone read a letter from one of our Work Circle folks, telling how she had been using one of my Ashram Magical Exercise Devices in her daily Puja, so I replied in my best high-pitched sing-song “Maxwell Smart” voice:
“Gee! That’s terrific! She used it in her daily Puja! It’s so incredible when something from the Ashram can be used in a daily Puja! I’m going to use it in my Puja, too! Let’s tell everyone to use it in their Puja. I have only one question, 99… What’s a Puja?”
Of course, Puja is the performance of any form of religious observance, especially a prayer toward a deity — you can think of it as the “SEND” button on a text message. I could lay it on yer lap, but it’s best if you do your own search on the word “puja”, also spelled “pooja” and “poojah”. It’s not just Buddhist, y’know; it’s Jainist, Sikh and Hindi, too, and hey, even some Westerners do it.
Check out the various forms of Puja that you can do in the Ashram. You’ll be hearing more about Puja at the ICW online workshop this Saturday and Sunday at 6:30 AM Pacific Time. Too early? Not at all, I’ve been up all night working on Orbs and Ashram builds.
See You At The Top!!!
gorby