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20 Jul 2004 @ 14:58, by Robert Oveson
This story started out as a stream of consciousness rant over at Harold's log but then this morning I thought I would call it a story and post it here for the archives. It sounds like it is from the shadow lands and probably best if it was kept off the front page. I've made a few minor changes but kept the story pretty much the same, and even though I call it a story doesn't mean it didn't happen pretty much the way writ below.
Just finished listening to Tapestry on CBC Radio and it concluded with an interesting poem by Richard Handeler.
It was about the devil who was legion and how the force wasn't all that bad, they never saw the evil, they all had jobs, a door that closed, they were fed and entertained as well, but even after Hitler was put down the devil continued to lurk unseen, whereas god wasn't around, on awol, permantent leave, like he had gotten tired of listening to and answering our prayers, and how his advice to Job was to not interfere or probe in things behind the dark because Job wasn't there at the start and had no right, but the devil continued to lurk on, and perhaps he should move on, quit lurking in the night and get a life because that is what all the rest of us have done.
So that wasn't the poem but it was the thought, the closing entry for that particular program. Still thinking of this the nest program started with a poem on autobiogrpahy, admonishing me, to join the living in a book I'd write, and to cut out the 'purcillian' similies, a third of what I wrote and simply state what I thought it was all about, but remember that windows without curtains only advertise your poverty. And I'm sitting there wondering what 'purcillian' meant, was it like pedantic posturing or hyperbolic pretension.
I returned to reading my novel and within a minute run across this from page 79 of Free Zone by Charles Platt -- "Then what is worng?" Her voice was angry, now. "First you reject me at LoveLand, and now here -- don't you realize what I'm offering you, Percival? I can be anything and everything you've always wanted in a woman. I'm beautiful, I'm highly intelligent, I'm strong, yet for the right man I will yield myself utterly. Are you going to just throw it back in my face?"
Whoaaa, now that I could see the word I was able to find it in my dictionary and I learned enough to direct me to my Encyclopedia of Mythology. Whoaaa, Percival was the knight of the grail quest who was continuosly being distracted from this quest by enthralling women. This brought to mind a story I had come across just the day before about a knight on a quest concerning women, a Chaucer's Tale in Rap, and I wondered if this was the sole purpose of a knights life to engage in quests revolving around relationships with women.
All this on Percival from multiple source coming to a head within the space of five minutes, and meaningfully related to myself, was this a complex synchronicity or what. Surely not a sin for nothing had materialized in reality it was merely a thought. Besides I'd left sin far behind so long ago hadn't I?
Then in todays (July 18th) weekly Vancouver Courier there was a column by Geoff Olson that ended with "The rubes on the end of the information spigot -- Mencken's "boobosie" -- get homolies about being "competitive," while the elite meet and greet and do deals among themselves, Whether you call that a conspiracy or a networking, it's all the same in the end. Power likes to play in the dark, and for the most part the rest of us tacitly agree not to poke around with flashlights.
And I think of all of this and then get a bit creeped out when I notice once again that the id on my drivers license is 6662512, and other things about which I would rather not dwell, and say heh it's time to lurk and look and see the cliff ahead, and reverse the trend on this lemming pilgramage. Oh no don't go there, and why not, isn't it time, time to shine the light on the uroboric leviathon, to wake the dragon that lie at the root of the tree of life, invoke the kundalini fire that boils the space cold ice that steams the passion that ascends our race, and all I hear is teddy bear twaddle, bot level social strokes, an inner voice says theta trap, and outside shunning silence, flung crap or pleas to please not provoke and don't go there, and from the sign on the door I wouldn't expect that here Well nay slay the dragon, that I've come to screw, and if you won't help me to wake it then adieu and fuck you.
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Category: Stories
6 comments
20 Jul 2004 @ 18:32 by spiritseek : Emerald Tablets
[link]
20 Jul 2004 @ 18:38 by ov : Lurking Devil
Thanks Marie. They look very time intensive. I think I will wait until I have more time or until someone condenses the essense into the current context. Perhaps through the modern language of rap.
20 Jul 2004 @ 21:47 by spiritseek : some wise words in those tablets
I read them and found something I can use,time doesn't really matter, its all a matter of time. lol
20 Jul 2004 @ 23:01 by ov : Lurking Devil
Can you summarize the parts that you found usefull?
21 Jul 2004 @ 07:14 by spiritseek : sorry
its a personal thing right now, maybe soon I can reflect what it means to me.
21 Jul 2004 @ 07:47 by spiritseek : Tablet 13 page
http://www.crystalinks.com/emerald13.html
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