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Monday, December 25, 2017

ANYTHING WORTH EXPLAINING CANNOT BE EXPLAINED



       

          It's worth reading Walt Whitman every few years... no need to read all of him. His book's an ocean, as all great books are. There is no real beginning and end and there doesn't need to be.
         I think of his phrase:

ROADS FOR TRAVELLING SOULS


and it rings inside me like a bell.

         People worry and argue about the distance to the stars or what exactly the soul is. And where God was at such and such a time and
exactly what name he/she used at that time, and what preceded X and what followed Y. None of this is useful in spiritual realms.
         We know that certain things are true and we get a sense of how the universe moves and
realities become apparent.
          A friend dies on his deathbed. And you are across an ocean. But at the very same instant as his death you have a dream of him,
a hearty greeting and not really a farewell.
          Whether we call it spirit or a soul, certain points of consciousness travel across this earth, and these points of consciousness move. And, yes, we know there is death, but certain points of consciousness never die for long.
           How does this work?  Well, we have the small ego and then we have the big Mind. Egos come and go, but the Mind abides forever. 
           In the Realization (foundation experience) one goes through a change of identity... identity becomes Identity.
           
           Now these things cannot be explained and rational thought cannot encompass the meaning of these things. Nature is fluid and ever-changing, and this is true of our own natures, and yet there is a constant.
          What are the constants in this world.

           (1) change is a constant;
            (2) the speed of light is said to be a                              constant;
             (3) the nature of Realization is also
                    a constant.

Arguing specifics achieves nothing. Rational thought is how we build tools, but it is not how we apprehend reality.

             I don't have time to argue semantics.
If you want to argue time and place and the names of the part of God that was there at that specific time - you're in the wrong class.

ANYTHING WORTH EXPLAINING CANNOT BE EXPLAINED.

             We are not studying analytics. We are learning focus so that we can get where we
want to go.





(C)2017 by W.G. Milne

Saturday, December 23, 2017

TYRANTS AND GNOMES, POWERLUSTS AND HELPLESSNESS MANIPULATIONS

    TYRANTS AND GNOMES, POWER-LUSTS AND 

HELPLESSNESS MANIPULATIONS
        
         As far as I'm concerned, the most powerful dramas emerge from those murky smells, feelings and closet-corners of childhood. These are the dramas we tend to re-enact through our lives.
        We all have such repressed dramas from the personal pre-history of our childhoods.

        Why do we want to uncover these monsters from the deep?
Why? It's because these monsters bring treasure with them. The sort of treasure that can re-awaken passion in our lives, sexual passion is very dear. We are talking about the truths expressed in fairy tales
        Also, there is this fact - the repressed emotions, fears and power-lusts that are suppressed with the suppression of a fetish - these repressed feelings are the wellsprings of all parts of our lives. This is uncontested.

      Why don't we unlock these doors hidden deep in our psyches?  It is often because our ego-states in childhood cannot bear to unveil the shame and guilts repressed. We continue
these repressions into adulthood... we maintain the same fears.
But when we are adults, we are strong enough to open these dark doors, if we have the assistance of a sexual partner.
       These fetishes and neurotic repetitions are deeply embarrassing - so they are the very last things we want to face.
These repressed experiences are highly-charged. And once a door is opened, all kinds of energy is released into our lives, not just sexual energy.

       You don't study this stuff unless you have no choice. Obviously I had no choice. I appear to be subject to 3 or 4
fetishes at least. Usually these fetishes are inter-related, but not always...


      Remember, neurotic cycles of repetition can become repressed psychotic cycles of repetition... and it is out of such unconscious repetitive madnesses of suppression that serial killers are born.
       So it is necessary for us to understand such things, to put our arms into the writhing snake-barrel of emotions and emerge with the gold... It is exceedingly good for us to do this personally.

        And at-large socially, it is necessary for us to understand these things and have healers who can deal with those doomed to undergo repeatedly murderous agendas.

       People undergo "lives of quiet desperation" primarily because they do not undercover these wellsprings.




***  Often it is the masochist who is in control of
       psycho-sexual dramas. This is important for when
       we go on to consider "HELPLESSNESS                     MANIPULATIONS."


(C) 2017 by W.G. Milne

** This article emerged from a story I published
     called, "LOCKED IN CHASTITY."




Friday, December 22, 2017

INCREASING FOCUS... in a world where WE TALK TOO MUCH


        The animals don't talk so much, so a dog's focus can be better than ours.
          
        You don't have to build a hut on the top of a cliff, but it worked for me. The important thing is to imbue your Mind, heart and soul
in silence.

        Silence is the greatest doctor of all.

        The other great doctor is laughter. And once you've had a whole lot of silence, you're
going to need the laughter.

         So we're at the stage where we have to
teach our monkey-like mind to focus. We can't just stare at the Eye of the cosmos, because we don't know where that Eye is yet.

         So once again we're looking for a statement that is difficult to understand,
 yet something that compels our intelligence.
         Here is one such statement that I've worked with for years:

BEFORE ABRAHAM WAS, I AM.

Focus on this statement with all your heart and soul and Mind, and you will have a breakthrough.
        No one can tell how long it can take. It's a matter of passion, the action of no-action, determination, and the  need to answer the question.

        My question was something like - "How can beauty and ugliness be two sides of the same coin?"
         If you're looking for the answer, you can find your own question.

          Make sure there are no intellectual handles to it... nothing the  philosophical-
rational mind can wrestle with. That would
be a distraction.

          We're learning about focus, not distraction. We have too many distractions.

           Imagine the sound of a heavy ball-peen 
hammer hitting a steel anvil. The hammer is swung by a strong, muscular man who knows exactly what he wants to hit.

          This is the kind of sound we want. Or imagine the sound of a heavy, well-built bell
ringing in the core of your Mind.

                     
                               *


          (I want to build just such a bell on the cliff-top. I want the bell to announce the miracle
of the Nag Hammadi find.)


           BEFORE ABRAHAM WAS, I AM.






(C)2017 by W.G. Milne

Thursday, December 21, 2017

THE CARNIVAL




What can I say about this song?

"There's a stranger by the road
Waiting on his own,
And now he waits for you to turn him down,
What are you going to do?"

Oh, come to the carnival
Time to let your hair down
Fair ground is all over town
What are you going to do?

The Meters - They All Ask'd For You

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

LOCKED IN CHASTITY



      "I WANT U TO PUNISH ME" I tell her.

     "That's not going to happen," she said.
It's an absolute refusal.

H: "We've been together for over a year. You refuse to have any kind of sex with me.
You won't talk about sex with me."
      "It's been over a year now," the preacher said, "And it seems clear to me that my manhood is is shrinking!"
       "How often do you measure it?" Holly asks:
"Every ten minutes?"
        
        It seems to me at that instant that she was trying not to laugh."

H: "You go out with other men and you have sex with  them...

Tanya (T): "Yeah?"

H: Last night you asked me if the idea of being locked in a chastity belt -- if it aroused me...
       I can tell you now. It arouses me like crazy! if you hold the key and you tell me what to do, give me orders."

T: Yes, I remember that... but that was yesterday... Now I have no interest... why could U ever find that arousing?"

(H) Harry:  I
 love  you. You're the  one I want to have sex with.... but U CUT ME OFF!..........You refuse to even discuss the subject! It seems to me I'm already wearing a chastity belt -- one that's impossible to get off!
             I don't want to penetrate anyone else. Being in love can really trap you...Or being obsessed with someone's  magnetic ass... Then there's nowhere a man in love can go.
            I want to be near you, but from the very beginning you cut me off sex. Now I'm really getting obsessed. And with you it's not your ass that drives me mad --- it's also your mind.
           I've fallen in love with your mind.

           Once I said to you, "I'm involved
 with you right up to my knees, " I said.
           "Oh, I think you're involved deeper than that,"she said.
           "How true that statement is!"I thought later.
            " You've known it all along...  "

            "I'm well and truly fucked this time, and there's going to be no easy way out. I got close to
you  last night.  The draw is deep. The penetration is complete. Only it's you who's doing the penetrating.
             "Sure, I'll wear a chastity belt for you any time. I'll wear one of those tight steel ones,
one that there's no way out of..."
            
              The fact is - I'm already locked in chastity on your behalf. You've forbidden me sex. It's been a long time. I'm forbidden to talk about sex, also.
             I'm in chastity, all right. At your mercy.
And I don't see any mercy coming. I think you're enjoying a certain satisfaction - at the spot I find myself in this very moment.
             
        You've got me by the balls. I know it's true because of the throbbing in my dangling parts. They're pretty much always throbbing now.              And they feel heavier, as well. It's progressive.

                *         *         *








This story's about a drama I went through intensely some years ago. This is a psychological state of mind anyone can get into.Especially if you're wired this way. I've been here before...  Do I want it to happen again? Likely I do.
         Passion is passion, it's a gift whenever it comes.. And any time you can act through the drama of a repressed childhood fetish, do it!



               TYRANTS AND GNOMES, POWER-LUSTS AND 

HELPLESSNESS MANIPULATIONS
        
         As far as I'm concerned, the most powerful dramas emerge from those murky smells, feelings and closet-corners of childhood. These are the dramas we tend to re-enact through our lives.
        We all have such repressed dramas from the personal pre-history of our childhoods.

        Why do we want to uncover these monsters from the deep?
Why? It's because these monsters bring treasure with them. The sort of treasure that can re-awaken passion in our lives, sexual passion is very dear. We are talking about the truths expressed in fairy tales
        Also, there is this fact - the repressed emotions, fears and power-lusts that are suppressed with the suppression of a fetish - these repressed feelings are the wellsprings of all parts of our lives. This is uncontested.

      Why don't we unlock these doors hidden deep in our psyches?  It is often because our ego-states in childhood cannot bear to unveil the shame and guilts repressed. We continue
these repressions into adulthood... we maintain the same fears.
But when we are adults, we are strong enough to open these dark doors, if we have the assistance of a sexual partner.
       These fetishes and neurotic repetitions are deeply embarrassing - so they are the very last things we want to face.
These repressed experiences are highly-charged. And once a door is opened, all kinds of energy is released into our lives, not just sexual energy.

       You don't study this stuff unless you have no choice. Obviously I had no choice. I appear to be subject to 3 or 4
fetishes at least. Usually these fetishes are inter-related, but not always...


      Remember, neurotic cycles of repetition can become repressed psychotic cycles of repetition... and it is out of such unconscious repetitive madnesses of suppression that serial killers are born.
       So it is necessary for us to understand such things, to put our arms into the writhing snake-barrel of emotions and emerge with the gold... It is exceedingly good for us to do this personally.

        And at-large socially, it is necessary for us to understand these things and have healers who can deal with those doomed to undergo repeatedly murderous agendas.

       People undergo "lives of quiet desperation" primarily because they do not undercover these wellsprings.




***  Often it is the masochist who is in control of
       psycho-sexual dramas.



(C) 2017 by W.G. Milne





Monday, December 18, 2017

FAIRY GRAIL



fairy grail




there are horrendous
negative influences
in my life
dwarfs and gnomes
who wish me ill

I heard the owl
call my name
the owl said:
"run! the bad 
queen is after you
not to mention
the police!"

I didn't feel 
like running
so instead I went
to the Paradise
bar and grill
and there
dreamed
dreams

my sister too
had joined the
evil horde
for a time her
mind was taken
over by darker
forces

hate and rage
echo down the
halls reverberate
against walls

I put on my science
shoes and step upon
the immaculate
deception

see visions of
primordial truths
nobody
knew


o   o   o


what do I do
with this jewel
I bring back from
the nightstream?

the rulers and their
daughters are asleep
or at the
hairdressers
or purchasing
this year's
auto...

the chapel of the
night was dark
the skulls
frightening until
you saw their
infinite carved
beauty

Miranda gave her
song to me
and whispered
"sing it!"

I passed on
through the woods
and saw
the ruined
castle

drank the cup
by the evergreen
and tasted the
meanings

took the fisher
from his boat
and served him
breakfast

saying:
"here these
are oranges from
the south and 
lemons from the
east here are
mushrooms from the
grove and words
from the
deep"

I burned a
knife hot and
cauterized his 
wound

shot the dragon
of the night
with an
arrow

saw pure
motionless light
in the chapel

took his daughter's
hand and
kissed
it

went north to
the new land
and stayed there
with the
children
of the bay.






       * * * * * * * *


(C)1980-2017 by W.G. Milne


Saturday, December 16, 2017

A WRITER'S NOTEBOOK - THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS.....HOBO WINE......................... THE FRUIT FLIES COME FOR ME!


Christmas is approaching with it's dread trudge - day after day more people commit suicide, but not me. Some wine it takes years to age. HOBO WINE takes six or seven days.... All you need is sugar and yeast (and water, of course).
        Buy some kind of cheap juice. Make sure there are no preservatives. (That kills the yeast)
Lots of sugar you need, also.... In a 2 liter container throw in about HALF A POUND OF SUGAR... and handfuls of fresh yeast.
       The yeast I have this year is about 2 years old (quick rising stuff, I use... but I'm told not to use it.) I was sitting gapping out in front of the televison, or maybe I was staring at my boots for 12 hours, or the wall, I can stare at that also.
And an explosion came from the kitchen. Last year's brew blew the cap off it's container and a few pints of liquid hit the ceiling. That got me moving...
       I thought I was under attack, but that's another story.


                     *****

The composer Schumann  (sp?) said that the angels gave him melodies at night... But in the morning devils kept telling him what a sinner he was.
           I know what he means... but I'm not admitting anything!

                  *****

Three women I know visited a nasty bushman to see if he was still alive. They discovered, not only was he alive, his garbage appeared to be, also. It was in the same corner of his cabin it had been in the year before.
        Jane asked: "Why don't you throw out your garbage? There's a whole bunch of fruit flies over there!"
        He said: "If I throw out the garbage, the fruit flies come for me!"

Friday, December 15, 2017

"CLEAVE A PIECE OF WOOD, I AM THERE." - --- THE ESSENCE OF THE TEACHING

       

         It is important to pass on the essence of the Teaching.
        There are many paths to Realization and different approaches are used by different
religions. In Christian terms we have been betrayed and lied to from the beginning and the path has been deliberately obscured, so much so that the path is almost invisible. It is asserted that there is no such thing as the Way, because a monopolistic organization denies the existence of any such matter, any such quest.
       All faiths have their holy men, their mystics, and these people rarely agree with
the orthodoxy.
       The nature of Realization (foundation experience) remains the same the world over.
       The experience is called enlightenment, because it brings light to the darkness... the blind are healed, the dead are raised.

       In the early days, people drowning in ignorance and fogged in confusion - they were
called the dead.

       One way of describing the experience is:
the eggshell ego implodes - and suddenly you know all the world. 

     But no description is adequate. Any reliance on words will lead you astray into false conclusions, dead-end alleys from which you must extricate yourself.
      
      No explanation leads to anything real.

      Be determined, but don't try. Any expectation you have will be erroneous.

      This is the path of knowledge, not the path of blind faith. "Know yourself," the man says.

"Cleave a piece of wood, I am there. Lift up
a stone and you will find me there." 

Gospel of Thomas.





(C) 2017 by W.G. Milne


WHEN I SAW YOU new XXX

WHEN I SAW YOU

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

BOBBY WILDMAN LANDS A BEAVER

BOBBY WILDMAN LANDS A BEAVER

BOBBY WILDMAN LANDS A BEAVER….A SKULL WINKS AT ME AT THE PIERRE….ORAL SEX WITH A STRANGE GIRL UNDER MY TABLE

LYING ON THE CARPET AT THE PIERRE, A SKULL WINKS AT ME…..DRUGS AND WOMEN….ORAL SEX BENEATH A TABLE….KNOCK OUT PILLS AND P.C.P.
WHO ARE THESE DEAD FOLKS?                                                           ( zappadat.tumblr.com)
DRUGS AND WOMEN, KNOCK OUT PILLS AND P.C.P……KISSING THE CARPET AT THE PIERRE, A SKULL WINKS AT ME….ORAL LOVE BENEATH A TABLE
          This hangover is SPECTACULAR! Don`t get me wrong,
I feel bad… but I also have that crystal clarity
that makes me think I can see for 100 miles
and call the ravens out of the white pine from way back
here.
An old pal is getting out of the Inuvik Jail, where they`ve had him in the hole for that last 72 days.I guess they`ve had him there for the last eight months.
He`s a quiet fellow, never makes a fuss ho! ho! and
will hit town like a Okkie tornado and freight train all rolled up in one and come whistling down the river hopefully in a bush plane – he`s not high enough for travel by levitation just yet. I imagine we`re going to fix that.
  1.       We have a tragedy on our hands at the moment –
    we`re out of hooch, internal bug spray – let`s call that
    High Mountain Moonshine Overproof Special Yahoo! That`s the name of this blend…but it`s almost gone.
    I woke up this morning because I was buzzed
    by a Beaver.
    I`m not talking about a blonde in tight jeans
    about to sit on my nose – no! I`m talking about
    a Canadian bushplane/floatplane which makes quite
    a roar when it`s coming in –  buzzing your cabin, or coming
    down to land at a ridiculous speed.
    I knew who it was.  It had to be
    Bobby Carl Wildman, who had just been sprung from a jail
    only 400 miles down river.
    He`d be  rarin` to go.
    Problem with Bobby – he gets an idea in his head
    it stays in his head until something is done about it.
    Most of his ideas involve motion for everybody else.
    You could say that`s part of his charm, and sometimes
    you`d be right.
    His last name is Wildman and he acts like a Wildman,
    and every time he comes by: I have a near death experience.
    We usually follow a plan, take off in some direction
    and see what the hell`s going on over there. If nothing`s happening; that changes pretty quick.
    Once I was lying on my back  relaxing in a canoe in at Trout Lake in cottage country. The waves were rocking me like a little baby in his cradle. And the sun is warm on my face.I was listening to the song of birds.
    All of a sudden there was an
    was an explosion on the shoreline, much much louder than a firecracker. It was Robbie arriving.Robbie showed up with a couple of suspicious looking fellas in a white limousine.
    Next morning at 5:00 A.M. I wake up in New York City. With no memory whatsoever of how I got there.
    I look up and admire the plaster moulding between ceiling and wall . It`s good carved work. Then I hear the constant traffic flow… WTF?
    Then I forced myself up onto all fours – and I started
    to crawl. It seemed like a long journey across an
    endless desert.  What drug gives you tunnel vision and
    and totally fucks your depth perception, too… so that a foot
    can seem like a crab at the bottom of a cliff… What drug can make a luxurious rug at the Hotel Pierre look
    like the Gobi desert?
    What FOOL would take such a drug„,Am I that much of a fool… Oh, no! No negative script right now, revolving in my swollen brain….I don`t have time to be depressed.  Yes,
    I might be an utter shit; I might be spit on a windowpane –
    but if we don`t clear this room they`re gonna put me away forever…
    In one of those cheap government asylums,
    where all the patients are numbers walking around with their asses exposed.  Eight AM and they bring out the firehose –
    they start hosing the `residents` down with cold water…
    No need for showers…. and when they put you in immaculate white solitary confinement, that`s when, under the bright lights they let the spiders loose on you..! You can see `em real well against the bright white floor and sheets… then you`ll scream…. yes, then…scream….  you will!
    There are certain parts of YOUR body they like to eat when you`re sleeping.
    STOP IT. That`s all in my head.. No one`s turning the spiders loose on you – not quite yet,  anyway…. Now open your eyes and get a grip….
    Not acid, not cocaine, not crystal meth or MDA, not
    herb… although herb sometimes can do amazing things
    with colour… not Haldol, methadone or amitriptyline, not most of the prescription drugs… although there are
    some exceptions if taken to excess…not PCP„, not PCP….
    oh God!  Not PCP!!  What have we done?
    Why are all these bodies lying in our room.  On PCP
    you can do any monstrous thing… you might think it`s for the good of society that you`re choking the life out of your high school teacher…
    You might feel sorry for homeless people, then kill them all and drag them to your room in the Hotel Pierre
    so they`d be warm and not feel so alone anymore.     Schostokovitch! Is that what we have done?  Are any of the people alive? Am I  a certified monster, after all? 
    Were my friends in primary school right all along about what
    I would become?  On PCP, all of the above is possible
            “THEY`RE GOING TO HUNT US DOWN LIKE DOGS! “I whisper to myself.
             “get a grip…. first of all you`ve gotta go and catch that prick over there….“   I`m crawling again, trying not to puke… He can`t hear me.  I`m too quiet.
    The bastard`s over there in the corner hunched over the telephone talking rapidly.He looked like he was 100 miles away…. I had tunnel vision. WHAT MADNESS IS THIS?
    I have a wad of money in each of my front pockets… Have we robbed these people then terminated their lives?.
    Did we chop them up? I had a horrible taste in my
    mouth just then…it tasted like last night`s  liver and
    onions.Did we eat their LIVERS! Are we harvesting organs?
    I can`t crawl far or fast… from all fours I collapse on my stomach. In the rug I smell something sweet. My nose is in something soft… Dear God,it`s a hand! It`s perfume I smell… With my eye I follow  the hand along the arm up  to the head. The eye in the head opens.  The eye is huge
    and seems to be following me as I attempt to crawl away
    I`m about to make an exit on my knees…
    It sees me: “HEY, COOCHIE!” It shouts at me.
    “Thank God!“  I`m thinking. It`s alive! Do I have to kill
    it again?”
    I clutch the back of Rob`s collar and pull him
    onto the rug with me. So he`s at my level: “YOU FOOL! WHAT HAPPENED? “ I hiss.
    “No one`s sure.  Remember those two honchos in the limo.
    “Just barely.
    “Well, we rode in the car with them for five hours.  You told all kinds of funny stories….
    “OK OK. what happened!
    They gave five pills of that date rape drug.  They told me to try it out.
    You gave it to yourself?
    Sure, why not?
    “You give the pill to your date, not yourself You`re supposed to give that pill to the woman and SHE passes out. Then you jump on her and do your evil deeds…  And then you`re facing ten years in the slammer…
    The way you did it: “WE passed out. You can tell the guys it worked! too well…It turned us into killers, also!
    “WHAT ARE ALL THOSE BODIES DOING IN OUR ROOM?  A HEAD OPENED ITS EYES
    AND TALKED TO ME!”
    He looked at me for a long time. I was just about to pull out one of his teeth  with my bare hands if he didn`t speak up.
    He said: “That pill really got on top of you, didn`t it?“
    I say:  “What pill, you fool!  What the fuck happened?  Our room looks like Cambodea after a massacre!  WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING WITH THE BODIES!”
    Rob looks at me as if he`d never met me before,
    “Those aren`t bodies!   That`s Shula and  those are her friends! They`re all alive, I think, anyway.
    We met last night…. drank several gallons of beer.
    You must remember Shula.  She was giving you oral love under the table!“
    “I`m hallucinating are you?” I ask I`m not mentioning
    the evil grin the HEAD had given me?
    “Yeah, quite a bit actually… How about you? You took three times what I took… oh yeah, and the boys said there
    might be a little PCP mixed in it just to keep you awake… so any weird thoughts you`re having – forget `em.“
    I didn`t say a word. So he continued his explanation:
    “You climbed up onto the stage and did a slow striptease.Shayla got up, too, and stripped with you. The whole place went wild; the bar was mayhem.  The bouncers and the bartenders were freaking. Then you got up on a table and…things settled down when you were talking..at least at first….
    “Then you made a speech about “LIBERATION” and  things got way way worse…everybody got up on the tables throwing their glasses against the wall… Cops were called. We got out quick  We have a room here…”
    “OK, I understand.  But there`s something we`ve gotta do first. Come back into the room with me and we`ll check their vital signs.“
    I woke up this morning full of doubt and recriminations.Guilts of all manner were trickling past my ears into my enlarged mind.  I can`t drink a bottle of whiskey straight without water and expect to survive.  I could do it when I was twenty-one but even then it was a bad idea.
    These days it`s damn nearly suicide
    I have that clarity that means you`ve just dumped about a billion brain cells.
    Another time we ended up in Peru.
    That another story, one for a more adult audience. Ho! Ho! Joking, of course.  You can imagine what Bobby got up to in Peru – with Peruvian flake cocaine selling for $10.  a gram.
    I`m admitting nothing, naturally.  We went up into the Andes and we were consumed with snow.
    I remember that sudden vacation a whole lot better.
    I have a very Klear memory of it.
    Another time six of  us were just arriving back at Pearson International Airport (Toronto). I was with a bunch
    of Danes (Gerd, especially). They had just introduced me
    to Aquavit. I had six glasses of it then fell asleep behind the wheel. (Wish I had a glass of it now!)
    I drove into a concrete abutment, attempting to leave the parking garage. We weren`t going fast, but even
    at 10 MPH you can have quite a collision.There were six of us in the car.
    I drove an Oldsmobile Cutlass straight  into a cement  abutment   I WAS AWAKENED BY THE SCREAMS OF MY PASSENGERS.
    Usually within three days of Wildman`s arrival, some disaster happens
    Bobby kicks the door open  and shouts: “I NEED SOME HEROIN!”
    I just stared at him from across the room….   ….  …  You son of a bitch? YOU MAD BASTARD! You know there`s no heroin in Rat River! For the last month
    we haven`t even had salt!“
    “Fuck that! I came to pick you up!  Time for a party… I`m just out of jail and you look out of your mind.
    “What`s wrong with you — you look like you`re dying!”
    “Isolation sickness.  Mad Po left for a booze purchase
    three weeks ago.  At first the silence was wonderful…now, not so much.
    “Forget that! It`s time for a party I`ve got $32,000 and I want to spend it!
    Bobby waves to the pilot.  An engine starts up
    down the river.
  2. ****************
  3. WAIT-A-BIT          Part 4

    NO MAPS IN WAIT-A-BIT
     ______________________________
    ___________________
           “My name is Frank”
           “I`m glad you remembered,“ Hank mutters to himself
            I start writing again … now not saying the words out loud as I
    write them:
                     I  woke up this morning with my head on a small desk
    right next to the wood stove. I heard a scratching noise behind me,
    and that is usually not a good thing in the Artic, when you`re living without  a door.
           I go to bed with my gun at night and I rarely clean my
    clothes – so I am always ready. And I can leap out of bed and start firing like a Bonzai warrior
          You can strap that tarp down pretty tight, tho, and you can hear him if he`s on his way – the Devil Beast. I read:
       “The red eyed devil who hates us and knows out minds – the
    beast with great claws and teeth who digs  better than we can
    because he wants to return to Hell.”
           “The beast who eats our food and who pisses on the rest
    of it, so only he can eat it later.  The beast who hides the urinated food deep in a hole of his own choosing;
    who scatters our possessions. ……..Who then rapes us
    improperly after the despoiling is done.”
            “Would you stop TALKING LIKE THAT!”  Hank shouts:
    “It`s giving me the creeps, this Devil Beast business…. when
    did you write that shit? I hope you`re not writing any more…
    I don`t think I can trust you – if you`re going to keep writing stuff like that!”
          “  You sound like some evil  monk in a
    subterranean cell….reading out loud by candlelight… in a
    monk`s hood..” He looks over at me, he gets
    down almost to his knees to look. He falls to his
    knees, presses his forehead against the cool clay
    of the dugout wall. He  turns and looks at me again:
    “Shit! That`s what you look like, too!”
    he says….
         “What you were reading out loud – It sounded vaguely liturgical”, Hank says
           ” I think we have to assume it was liturgical…” I say  “that it was a prayer of sorts…. seems like  Thomasino was praying to the Devil on Four Legs….I say.
      …..He was certain there was no escape from the Beast, the beast was surely and inexorably coming to  devour him…  …” I`m having trouble with this last bit… He`s scribbling like he didn`t have much time:   Thomasino was praying to the GREAT BEAST ON FOUR LEGS:  “Please eat my brain first!, it says, “Please eat my brain first…PLEASE! Don`t start with my testicles!“
    I say,  “What!  Me? You think  Me?  I didn`t write this stuff… No, no this was a vet from South America – came up here to protect the animals..I”
              “A war vet?`asks Hank.
              “No,  a doctor…from South America, a veterinarian.  Like I said, he came up here to protect the animals.
               “THESE ANIMALS?  He came up to PROTECT…..
    THESE ANIMALS!“ hANKS  shoulders are shaking, he`s laughing.. I gotta get this down… This is crazy… this is
    is too crazy…. Hank is scribbling again, “A veterinarian! Ha! Ha!”
          “Yeah!      I just found his diary. I was reading it to myself..”
            “OUT LOUD!“ He turns to me.   “You were reading OUT LOUD!   It sounded as if you were saying a prayer… it sounded like you were praying to the Devil Beast…?”….  „„ “You weren`t, were you?”
               ” Of course not!”“Do I LOOK as if I`d do something like that?”
                 “In that hat with 4 screens, you look as if you might
    do anything at all!”
                 “When we fix that door,  I won`t have to sleep in these screens. Then I`ll look normal,  you`ll see… and Matilda will, too.” I said.
                  I nod my head and whisper to him the name – “Matilda.”
               Hank`s got his note pad out again, which delights me! I used to do the same thing exactly – whenever I smelt the whiff of a story.
                 He still thinks he`ll get a story out of this.  And when
    the story`s finished, he`ll give it to the newspaper  And,  after that?”
               “After that you`ll hit the road, eh, Jack?”„, C-U-LATER!“ Is that what you`re thinking
                “Yeah, I have to.. I got my story… too bad about
     no job, no boss Henry..no newspaper building, no school,

  1. no…  ….But I never knew him….”
               “You got a map?” he asked.He`s standing again, almost.
                    “Maps, we had maps galore…. But
    after the blast, there weren`t no  maps no more.”
                      Hank had started to untie the tarp;he`d walked over to the tarp hole
                       “No maps… no more…. no maps by the door.“I said
                     ” Do you think you have brain damage?“ Hank asks
                       “That`s a hell of a question to ask, just as you`re
    trying to leave!  Do you mean me?” I say
                      “ I mean  everybody here in town, but you especially,”Hank say
                       “We coulnd`t find anything…. except twisted up re-bar  for our  foxhole walls… without the rebar… and all those beasts in the lowlands before the River, we would have been fucked!   They can`t dig thru re-bar, you see… So now we`re better off – we`re not totally fucked.  We`re just completely screwed…”    I`m saying.
                    “WHAT?” he shouts.  His eyes are crazed.
                      “Soon as the ringing in our ears cleared, we remembered we were hungry” To tell the truth. we couldn`t remember our own names , let alone the name of our town… and so  WE CAN`T FIND ANYTHING ON A MAP…    EVEN IF WE HAD A MAP, which…….. we…………don`t….we don know what names to match on the map….
                     “WE DON`T HAVE A MAP!“ i shout back at him
                        At least that was clear.
                                 ***  ***  ***
     END OF WAIT-A-BIT  – Part 4
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