What is “f-f-f-f-f” Anyway???

Very few folks know what the letters “f-f-f-f-f” in Judge Kavanaugh’s Calendar actually meant, back in the day of college dorms and panty raids. I will reluctantly remind those who have forgotten this foul male heritage, and you can look it up, if you doubt me:

“Find ’em, Feel ’em, Finger ’em, Fuck ’em, Forget ’em.”

Disgusting as it might be, that’s what it means, and there isn’t a single one of those lying, sniveling cowardly RepubliKlan Senator who doesn’t FULLY REMEMBER what it means.

They are very aware of the meaning — they can’t escape that glaring fact of high school and college bragging rights — the world of a young man experiencing the pangs of puberty is filled with fantasies and bullshit, and every male kid in Amerika has heard someone say something similar to that — maybe only four f’s instead of five, as Kavanaugh’s clan seemed to prefer.

“F-F-F-F-F” can’t mean anything else. That’s what it has meant for at least 60 years local time, and every high school BOY knows it. For anyone unfamiliar with the cynical phrase that dates back to the fifties, it can be quite a shocker.

Sanctimonious bastards that they are, the Washington Senators (no relation to the heroic members of the baseball team of the same name) gave the smug and smirking Judge Kavanaugh a “pass”, knowing full-well what that calendar entry “f-f-f-f-f” really meant.

There are other high school yearbook and calendar notations that are equally brutal and nasty, but that’s the way Rich White Men get their way — they bully, brag, lie, cheat and steal, and invent reasons why they can do it and get away with it, like the bragging that we heard on the “Access Hollywood” video.

Shocking? Not anymore, it isn’t. Not anymore. They are the most criminal bastards who ever hit the Beltway, but they’re not quite finished with us, yet. They have even more up their sleeves, and they intend to press their bets once they win another election.

So what? Big Deal. Ease up, pardner, ’cause on The Beltway — Washington, D.C. & Environs is called by inhabitants of said land “The Beltway”, meaning how you get socked by a right hook to the jaw every day you spend time there — everybody steals, and everybody gets away with it, and everybody knows it, and that’s a fact of life on the Beltway.

The thinking of those Washington Senator creeps is, what they don’t know won’t hurt them. The Representatives are there just to keep the poor folks quiet — they don’t actually DO anything.

Policy is always made by the Very Rich to benefit the Very Rich, and that’s a fact, Jack. Accept it as a way of life in Washington — run by the industrialists as it has been for upwards of 200 years.

It’s not your problem, it’s just what local life-forms do for amusement — they like war, pestilence and poverty, which I have deduced just by observation over the past 34,000 of your “years”.

I don’t ordinarily measure time by motion, but the way it’s calculated here, it’s all linear and blocked into action segments which can be viewed as blocks of Planck Time, but that’s not important right now.

I only use those calculations for determining as-if randomity, and that’s where my meteorites, floods, plagues and famines come in right handy.

The wealthy can’t conceive of what it FEELS like to be poor, unemployed, desperate and hungry all the time.

Of course that’s ridiculous, that wealthy people can’t conceptualize the pain of being poor and disenfranchised, but although poverty and tragedy and misery hurt plenty, you’ll never convince a rich, privileged person of the Upper Class variety that it hurts, that it just plain Goddam HURTS just to be alive, and to be oppressed and abused and ripped off by the Upper Class for one more dollar from your pocket to theirs, well it just adds fuel to the ANGST — the World-Pain — of life.

If you can’t make it better, at least don’t make it worse, Jude. Take a sad song and make it better.

I’m intentionally using language constructs that don’t exist anymore, and never did have much traction with the street talk, with the full realization that it will land on deaf ears, and that’s the intention. If you happen to have eyes to see and ears to hear, what the hell are you doing complaining?

Get out there and start questing on this level. Try to get past Blood Moor, willya??? You are playing in “NORMAL” level of challenge, but at your present level of power, you should really be at least in “NIGHTMARE”.

You can’t use your powers in NORMAL, and it wouldn’t do you any good if you could. The cold fact is that NOTHING you find in NORMAL LEVEL is worth anything.

Frankly, I don’t bother to pick up anything in NORMAL level — I just wade into a fight with no armor, no weapon other than bare-fist, and no protective runes, but I do that because my characters seldom die, even in the HELL levels.

Why is that?

Well, skill is one answer, but patience is the real answer. Patience is something that you have very little chance of mastering and possibly no chance of understanding, unless you take life from the perspective of the Simple Self.

One of the reasons my predictions as stated in “Slime Wars” and “Trump is a Four-Letter Word” which is due at the distributor outlets anytime soon now — it’s being printed at the moment, and there’s a slight rush on for school texts just ahead of us — come true so stunningly precisely is that I’m not guessing, nor is it because I have the hindsight of history as seen from the 37th century.

No, it’s simply that this is how the game goes at this point, and I’m calling it as I know it comes down, just as you’d  be able to call the next quest in Diablo II — it’s obvious.

“Next stop, Baal’s Minions and the Throne Room”, you’d say to yourself. Well, that’s exactly the way it is in what you laughingly call “Real Life”, which is the SIM in which you currently find yourself.

The game always does the same thing at this point, so no matter who’s in charge, the same things will happen, such as hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes, volcano eruptions and of course, the ever-popular meteorite strike on a densely populated area, such as Washington, D. C., and believe me, the angelic team responsible for aiming that thing is doing the very best it can to assure a slam-bang ending to this comedy relief.

Comedy relief for the Great Mother, of course. For us, it’s a grim battle to the finish, but who are we to complain? If it weren’t for the universe, there’d be nothing here at all.

I know what you’re thinking — there isn’t anything here at all, and it’s perfectly true, but as the dream unfolds, it’s so hard to tell the players apart without a score-card.

I have in hand a complete full-color super-heavy professionally produced game style coated stock TAROT CARD with a photo — not a screenshot, but a photo taken with my Canon AE-1 on Fuji Color Film, printed on AAA photo stock and scanned in for publication.

This is a clear, beautifully produced wide-field photo of the Between-Lives State, taken with a special INFINITE FOCUS pinhole lens made with a laser especially for the Canon AE-1, and then never made again for any camera — it simply cannot now be had.

The photography for the Past Lives Survey Coached Sessions was made over a period of one year, at a cost of over $30,000.00, but at the time, there was no other way to produce this powerful spiritual tool, and as it turns out, there is no better way.

Using this system of KEYS and TRIGGERS, one can enter the Between-Lives State through the Waking State induced by working with the images contained in the Bardo PLS Deck which I have constructed for this purpose.

It is expensive to produce, but is a professional product made for the very serious task of guiding the spirit through life and death cycles, treating the Big Time Life as one lifetime lived through many incarnations, manifestations and rebirths.

It’s really a very simple process — you DIS-identify with the local lifeform you call yourself, and RE-identify yourself as your Essential Self, the Primal Self or as I like to call it, “The Simple Self”.

It’s just pure consciousness, no frills, no extras.

That means no considerations, plots, plans or double-think brainiac fantasy trips into the realm of “me” and “mine”.

Objects that belong inside the universe tend to stay in there, although you can bring a “selfie” of your organic self holding the thing, if you really feel the need to memorialize the event, but lifetimes tend to blend into a whole patchwork quilt, and one lifetime is quickly forgotten and lost in the stream of endlessness.

Speaking of endlessness, the political scene here is very much a part of the universe picture, which is by nature illusion, so don’t get hung up in it — try to enjoy it.

Trump World is NOT your world. You traveled here from wherever you were, and here you are, more or less trapped in a sealed room with a homicidal maniac, or so it appears.

It’s just Trump. Ignore him. After a while — it could be a few years yet — he will go away.

Boring stuff, politics. Stay out of trouble. Avoid politics and stay with rock-painting, coin-sorting and making good music, art, theater, dance and architecture.

Relax into the flow. Make a buck while the RepubliKlans are still in power, which won’t be very long, if I remember how this level ends up, and I most certainly do.

I can correctly predict every outcome through the next few years, but if you don’t know how to play the game of Diablo II, you’re not going to like it.

On the other hand, if you’re as wholehearted a player as I am, you’ll enjoy the gaming aspects of BLOCKAGE, OVERWHELM and DOMINATION as Donny Trump plays the game, and as you’ll notice, he has to cheat to win.

Sad, indeed, but funny, and laughter is the best medicine for the pain of life.

The only thing that hurts Donny is laughter. He doesn’t understand it, and is therefore understandably totally afraid of it.

If he could, he would ban laughter.

The thing is, he can’t ban laughter, especially laughter directed at him. He doesn’t see how funny, how clown-like, he is, and how much more like a clown he looks and sounds when he bangs his fist and pounds his shoe on the podium.

Enough about local politics and news. I’m off to paint some rocks and then to paint some big pieces for the flipper and print bins!

I’m painting again, after a medical hiatus of almost a decade, and you’re welcome to participate.

Normally, these 30″x40″ landscape paintings would sell for $3,000.00, and the JazzArt 30″x40″ paintings would sell for anywhere from $8,000.00 to $34,000.00 depending on complexity and venue — where they have appeared with celebrity jazz musicians, the value is added to the base price.

You can send for ONE of my 30″x40″ Acrylic on Board Paintings for $300.00. I will select one of my pieces and ship it to you ROLLED in a PVC tube. Flat shipping is prohibitive, but if you insist, it can be done — for a price.

You can resell these paintings by putting them into acrylic sleeves and placing the sleeves in a print-bin or POSTER FLIPPER, which turns pages like a large book or a carpet sales rack.

The PLS Deck, by the way, is on sale for only $199.00 — reduced from $200.00, so act now while the sale is still on!

As I said, it’s expensive to produce, and is a professional spiritual tool, so that’s the story. I will train you to use the PLS deck if you come to a PLS workshop, clinic or training space.

If you want training on coaching SuperBeacon Sessions, you have only to ask, and I will figure out how to deliver the training to you. It takes one-on-one drills to make it work, but once you’re trained, you can train others, and you should ask a donation for this service.

If you fail to support your work, you can’t sustain it. I would adjust my donation schedule to mirror that of the average guitar class in your area — at the moment, that comes to $25 an hour in this neighborhood, and it’s the same for t’ai ch’i, flute and drumming lessons, according to the local newspaper.

If you want ideas of things to do with rocks, check out this youtube posting — it’s not a hot link, so you’ll have to copy and paste it into your address bar. If you don’t know how to find the address bar, perhaps you shouldn’t access the data.

Okay, back to rock painting and glue-gun hacking until breakfast time — if you want to see some of the products of my Night’s Wild Ride, tune in to my Morning Show at 6:30 a.m. California Time, if such a time is possible.

See You At The Top!!!

gorby