My Life As It Is And #OCCUPY November 13, 2011
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As I enter the winter of my years a prophecy is comming forward and I find that the path I have taken has come to a fork to either destruction or the rebirth of a New World Order. The people have taken it to the streets and the streets are stained with body fluids. You can smell the fear from both sides but the sides are not equal.
POWER CORRUPTS June 10, 2011
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MONTEBELLO IMPOSSIBLE CONTINUES TO TRY AND SILENCE THE MASSES.
Step up to the plate, to the summit G-8 the complaints of G-20 are plenty.
Clement spent our money on homies and cronys, Harper, a fence and a lake.
While some faceless Bulice moved quick and broke peace,
batons beating shields and the masses,
The innocent kettled caught up in their clashes,
broken spirit and bones in their wake.
Shame on McGuinty and shame on Chief Blair,
behind closed doors a deal made without care.
These whores of power, they steal by the hour,
while grinning, refusing the blame.
Deaf ears to words spoken, a car burns, windows broken,
While the voice of protest and black smoke fills the air.
I’ll now test the waters while names on Bulice blotters,
are set free without question nor shame.
The helpless were left to lie in their waste
and what of the payment for loss due to haste?
The Bulice silence is broken by video token
and a pig given up to the slaughter.
When the BBQ’s done and the people have won,
only then will Parliament falter.
.
Sweet Inspiration April 9, 2011
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White skin beneath black roses,
Piercings here and there.
A change of cut and colour,
She looked so debonair.
I mainlined the gracious lady.
She surged through veins like a sugar-high,
Electrifying.
And I Go Insane September 9, 2010
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Her silhouette at twilight against a cloudless sky.
Fire light softens, a sense of hope.
Her scent stirs a passion, that had died long ago.
It works the mind crazy like back street dope.
And I go insane.
A yearning, a burning for a young blood
with silken skin marked with ink. Tantalizing.
Visions of a past life, endorphins running wild.
Fire burns, warming forbidden fruit.
And I go insane.
She offers up a shoulder bare, I hesitate, touching lightly,
A stolen kiss, her body heat torments.
She turns half smiling,
A nervous laugh breaks the silence.
And I go insane
Moving closer, bare skin makes contact,
Hearts beat heavy, legs entwine.
Soft whispers of what would have been.
And I’m reminded, that time is the enemy.
And I go insane
Montebello Impossible August 24, 2007
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Why won’t this tape self-destruct in five seconds?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=St1-WTc1kow
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, involves incitement.
As always, should you, or any member of your team be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow all knowledge of your actions.
And the thot plickens.
http://www.ombudsman.on.ca/media/157555/g20final1-en.pdf
www.ombudsman.on.ca
Three years plus later, it was discovered that NOBODY was hurt and the crowd yelled “Lets all blow “Bubbles.”
Bubbles said he wouldn’t stand for that kind of behavour and was told to lighten up. Bubbles did what he was told and seems to have floated off behind the scrim.
Latest dialog….
Hmmm?? These tapes show that a peice of paranioa is missing and therefore NOBODY was trying to hide anything. This stikes me as somewhat questionable.
Excuse me?……..NOBODY was armed and dangerous. But! SOMBODY was and we’d like to know what if anything, what is SOMBODY trying to hide?
Okay, you got me there. I’m sorry……
So! Will you then do the right thing and place an order of transparency?
I have said I’m sorry and lets say we’ll cross that BRIDGE when we get to it.
Well here we are about to cross that BRIDGE.
Is that a wall of goon I see before me?
I just love these lines….
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, involves incitement.
As always, should you, or any member of your team be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow all knowledge of your actions.
And the thot plickens.
Today SOMBODY was brought forward and SOMBODY is going to pay for wacking NOBODY. In the meantime EVERYBODY is under scrutiny.
A face has been put on SOMBODY and it’s an ugly face.
The Toronto police constable accused of assaulting G20 protester Adam Nobody has been arrested and charged in connection to another incident involving the alleged assault of a woman during summit protests at Queen’s Park.
The Toronto Police Service says Constable Babak Andalib-Goortani, 30, was arrested and charged with assault with a weapon Tuesday. He is alleged to have hit a woman with his baton on Saturday June 26, 2010, in the area of Queen’s Park.
He is scheduled to appear in court at College Park on March 7.
Police have not released the name of the alleged female victim.
Const. Andalib-Goortani, who has three years of experience on the force, has already been charged with assault with a weapon by the province’s Special Investigations Unit after the police watchdog conducted an investigation into injuries sustained by Mr. Nobody, who was tackled by a group of officers and punched repeatedly.
A hearing in that case has been postponed until February 28, at which time a date for a judicial pretrial will be set.
The new charge stems from a complaint received by the Office of the Independent Police Review Director. Police began a criminal investigation based on that complaint January 21.
Allison Hawkins, a spokeswoman for OIPRD, said she could not comment on any complaints made to her agency.
“Anytime a complaint is made, the chief of that police service is always sent a copy,” she said. “If they read it and decide to do a criminal investigation, that’s something the chief is entitled to do.”
Have You Ever Eaten A Faggot You Didn’t Like? May 7, 2007
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It’s funny how words change over the years to mean something completely different.
I had been talking to a magician friend a while back who is from Bushy, Hertfordshire, England who related a story of his childhood and a cigarette.
Around the 1940′s cigarettes were referred to as fags and he had been caught by his father hiding behind the bicycle shed puffing on a fag and received a lashing for his efforts. I laughed as I told him he wouldn’t want to get caught today puffing on a fag.
This conversation brought to mind of MY childhood.
My family had emigrated from Britain and brought a delicacy with them to the New World it was called a faggot. It was a kind of meat ball consisting of minced pig’s liver and offal and spices. They were delicious with mashed potato and mushy peas.
Let’s move ahead a few years around the mid 1950′s.
We were a teenage gang that weren’t much different than those of today except back then we settled our differences with our fists.
One of the guys who’ll remain nameless, for some reason decided to rob a bank. To make a long story short, he got caught. In those days there was no such thing as young offenders and he did hard time. A few years later when he was released I asked him what it was like being in prison. He said it wasn’t to bad except for the faggots.
He slowly backed away from me when I told him I loved faggots and ate them every chance I could.
He then explained to me what he had meant. This was a new one on me. Back then the words we used for a gay person was usually a gearbox, fruit, pansy, fairy, etc.
Moving ahead now to the mid 90′s I’m a city boy sitting around a bonfire with new-found country folk when someone yells out, throw a faggot on the fire.
First thing that comes to my mind is my new found friends are a bunch of homophobes but it wasn’t long before I found this was not the case.
I learnt a new definition for the word faggot that night, a bundle of twigs or branches. We never had a use for those in the big city.
I’ve since googled faggot and have discovered there is a West Midlands family that is playing a central role in the quest to raise the profile of a forgotten British dish – faggots.
If you should ever get a chance to eat a faggot, go for it and stay off the smokes.
The passing of Jose Jemez December 31, 2006
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Jose Jemez left the kiva early that day in Oct, said something about picking up some bread.
He smiled as he said, ”it is good for one’s soul to get out once in awhile,” I had to agree, it has been six months since he felt the warmth of the sun on his face.
Four days ago he had received a call, I noticed that when he disconnected he seemed a bit apprehensive and when I asked if anything was wrong, he said “I just need to go into the silence for a day or two.”
He had come to me more than two years ago in a vision and for the first few days we spent many hours sitting at the games table ”bonding”, or as he described it “Dancing The Dance.” In his head-piece was a mix of Owl, Redtail Hawk and Duck of Mallard feathers. I remember thinking, “strange mix of magic there.”
The following year he had accompanied me to the market place in Cloyne, it was his first trip there. Actually, it was the first time he had been out of the kiva since he had first arrived. I’m beginning to see a pattern here.
Since he’d be in silence for a few days I figured this would be a good time to start packing for the trip ahead, I then called Wolf to see if he was still up to going into the village.“It’s still a go” he said, then he hung up. It was raining the morning we left the Big Smoke and traffic was heavy but moving at a fair clip. Wolf sat quiet on the first part of the journey just staring out the side window but as we got closer to our destination he perked up and asked if I wouldn’t mind dropping him off at Tim Horton’s at the far end of the village. As we pushed further north the sumac became a crimson standing brilliant against a brown backdrop of sleeping corn fields and the aspen, yellow in their final stages waiting for the wind to strip them naked. A turkey vulture seemed suspended in a sky of grey while searching for one last carrion before starting it’s long journey south to warmer climes.
It was noon when we arrive at the village outskirts, the rain had stopped, and a scarecrow greeted us as we came over the hill just south of the lake. We drove through town and I dropped Wolf off at timmy ho’s and I watched as he headed straight for the pay-phone. I thought to myself, ”that dog is up to something.”
He waved me off and I headed to my “Summer home” where I would spend the next three nights of the Full Hunter’s Moon.
When Wolf and I came back to Big Smoke that following week I found a note waiting for me on the games table. Jose was now half way around the world on his way to meet his new keeper. His note read, “I’ve been made an offer I couldn’t refuse. My presence is required in the Channels for ceremony. I’ll let you know when I have arrived. Your humble servant, Jose.”
Jose connected with me just recently saying he is enjoying his stay with his new keeper. He said he was enjoying the storms on the coast where he now resides, quite different from his last encampment.
Also he is preparing himself now for the “Rainbow Dream Dance” for the Metis. I’m sure he’ll use his powers in a positive manner.
Good bye old friend. Dance like no one is watching.
Sometimes It Doesn’t Pay To Be Kind September 12, 2006
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Two weeks ago when I had accepted an invitation to visit the coven again I ran into my old friend, Wolf.
He didn’t mince words as he spoke of the new woods he had discovered and what it offered up ………… heavy traffic, I think he called it.
He wasn’t as lean as I last remembered him and he was more sedate…….I’ve found my “Happy Place” he said as he offered me a re-fill. It was then I asked him about his black eye.
I asked if he had run into a door, he replied, ”no, it happened the previous Sunday while in church.”
Now he had my full attention while he explained just what happened.
He said when the congregation knelt to pray he noticed that a woman of large proportion in the pew in front of him had her dress stuck up the crack of her bum. The people in his pew were snickering and he thought it unfair that she should be the butt (excuse the pun) of a joke, so he leaned over and proceeded to gently pull it out. She then turned around and punched him in the eye.
I said, “some times it doesn’t pay to be kind.” We laughed as Wolf said, “you got that right.” Wolf then wandered off to talk with Crow.
Duck and Otter then struck up a conversation with me and it wasn’t long before I felt they were having some issuses with Deerdancer’s absense. When I questioned them about it they glanced at Wolf and quickly changed the subject saying, “let sleeping dogs lay. “
As darkness closed in and with a chill in the air everyone moved closer to the fire. It was then I realized how much I missed the warmth of a bonfire and the next day the smell of the wood smoke on my clothes brought back memories of more pleasant meetings. I then left for the “Big Smoke”
It was yesterday I ran into Wolf again and this time his other eye was swollen. I smiled and said, “Church again?” Yes he said but this time it was my brother Otter. “What do you mean”, I replied.
Well he said,”same scenerio, but this time it was Otter who leaned over and pulled the dress out of her butt crack. I knew she didn’t like it, so I tucked it back in and that was when she turned around and let me have it again.”
I said, “some times it doesn’t pay to be kind.” He asked, if I was going back to the village at the end of the month could he get a ride up with me as he said he’d like to see Deerdancer again. I said ,”no problem, I could use the company.” He said thanks as he ran off to catch his bus.
Hmmm I thought, what is that old dog up to now.
Into The Mystic April 30, 2006
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I first met Wolf and Deerdancer at a drumming circle. She was what they called a ”Sheripiari” a female shaman and “Time Traveler”, or one who relocated periodically from place to place, for no particular length of time and collected information from each place for future use, Wolf was a “Spirit Healer” who delved in ancient magick practices.
He had drowned when he was 6 yrs. old and still remembers to this day the fine details of hitting the water and slowly sinking to the bottom of the lake. He was accidently knocked off the dock into the water by an older child who was trying to escape from another while playing tag. Wolf said he didn’t flounder but sank slowly face down, a school of minnow’s parting allowing him to pass further towards the bottom. A crawfish scurried across the sandy bottom just as Wolf hit it with his left shoulder and rolled onto his back. Now facing the surface he felt no fear as he watched the silver bubbles of air rush towards the surface and then…….darkness. He said he doesn’t remember how much time past before he was forced / brought back to life, but those all around him were wailing while the adult who held him close to his chest, tears streaming down his face.
As a teen he escaped falling beneath the wheels of a moving freight train. It was as though there was an angel protecting him, keeping him alive for some unknown reason.
In 1968 he had his first out-of-body experience while under the guidence of a yogi and it wasn’t until 1971 when he had his second near death experience. This time he did feel fear as he cried out to be saved. He remembers the details just as if it were yesterday but did’nt wish to share them with me.
When I first met Deerdancer her appearence was on the frumpy side and she was a bit over-weight, although, she had a animalism attractivness and a warmth that could melt the Polar Ice-caps in mid Feb. Over the next couple of years I watched the metamorphose as she lost weight and got a new make-over. I knew she was trying to get some-ones attention. Wolf offered her a “Reading” and to my surprise she accepted with great enthusiasm and this would give Wolf the opportunity to lock her down.
Wolf and Deerdancer would get together at least twice a month ouside the circle and swap mojos, performing rituals and ceremony on one another. One such ritual was drinking a hallucinogen made from the San Pedo Cactus from her navel while injesting a butterfly larva. Deerdancer would then check Wolf’s pulse until it stopped and after a few moments they would begin their journey together to the cave of the Medicine Bear where the ancient ones awaited around the Council Fires.
Deerdancer plays in early morn haze,
While in silence he waits in the tree-line.
Ducks splashed in the water and so did the Otter
While Crow watched from the top of a pine.
The sun he rose quick and burnt off the haze,
Revealing the place where she lay.
Wolf upwind senses, ’tis the moment to seize,
As Deerdancer gets to her knees.
Deerdancer and Wolf, caught up in the dance
While winds shift and so do emotions.
Butterfly drifts in on a breeze
All to soon caught up in commotion.
In full embrace, face to face,
They gazed into each other’s soul.
Then her breath quickened deep, half closed eyes, if to sleep
Bluejay came in from the knoll.
She softly cried out as Wolf’s mouth closed upon her
And still she didn’t fight back.
Just for a moment both heartbeats stood still
When the snap of a twig brought them back.
The water reflected the sadness
That came over each others face.
Then with a slight smile of triumph
They’re now parts of another place.
It has been four moons now since I have seen Wolf and Deerdancer at the circle.
