ബ്ലെസ്സിംഗ്

I am in a musical group known by a number of names. These names are not always the ones that watermark our videos online so I should list them briefly before I begin: Science & the State, Dangerous Insomniacs, Whitey the Crime, Jabberwocky, Fancy Withholding & Lettuce, Fancy Withholding and Name Changes, Not-Primus and the Dali’s, in no particular order. I claim that these are famous and sometimes prophetic names that should ring bells inside the listener if they remember old England. I hope they do. Otherwise we are hiding behind the name, “Science & the State” and risking not using the others due to paranoid delusion. These names are sometimes mentioned in my mania to be as meaningful to others as they are to me. I should add, in the same states of mania I also claim that I invented the clock.As a suggestion of a teacher I encountered in my journeys I may add that we are particular devils that have been requested. These thoughts are referenced nearly every time I bring them up as inverted and silly delusions. I hope so, in part, but I also hope that at some point I added so much to this world that the invention of the clock could be a simile. That is everyone’s dream I suppose. I doubt I have.

I do not really know how that machine works and it seems to have been invented before 1984, technically the year of my birth.We sing, dance and frolic around on stage throwing away bodies and playing things like, “You have requested the Whitey the Crime classic… How many blind people could you kill?” I also have an odd tendency to host an imaginary spell cast (or TV show in the mind, for lack of better explanation). I cast these thoughts towards people and tell myself that they can hear and visualize what I am doing; claiming that this is what people did before TV. Folks used to listen to old, dead, blind saints.And I am a generally happy person. I just sometimes forget to record the jokes.I suppose that is that, if it rings a bell with you the way I hope it does than perhaps this is not our first meeting. Perhaps you were raised to fear the Jabberwocky. Or maybe I just want a spot in English myth. Final themes and other mentions of a strange headache these last few mornings are sunshine when she laughs and a debate stirs about whether I am old or not. Although that is not entirely nonsense it is neither Jabberwocky nor satire. It is a funny dance that in the end leaves us alone. But her boots are well-worn. They smell musty but are of sainted tomes. This is terrifying for us. These standard tired terms are basically a functional note. It is difficult to suggest this form of prose is good for much besides gathering concepts when one has to write but is unable to find inspiration. I am trying to find my way to a thought that is not attainable right now and writing nonsense tends to help me muse. Recently I find something about words being entirely arbitrary. It is the idea that had one word changed six paragraphs ago the meaning of this sentence could be different, though the words stay the same. I believe that is the key to writing good prose in combination of being egotistical enough to think that someone wants to read what I have to say. So please do not fear us, as the old rhyme goes. “If you fear the Jabberwock you are not an Englishman,” or something about a man who has no substance.

We are good and as close to human as the rest of you.
We just make our living on stage.I slept recently for five days. This is always a weird trip and this time I was drugged and uncomfortable. The government did it through the hands of nurses at a hospital. I woke up and felt the need to ask if lasagne came in pill form yet. It was just to joke and be a lively guest of the ward. It is for the best because I may have made the mistake of running away because I was initially discharged too early. I was rather argumentative but now I feel like myself again and am much more productive doing literal writing. Before the sleep I was unsure of a number of things, including the year in the Common Era.My concern with the true date can be stated in a manic way (mumbled gibberish) or as something much clearer. I believe the idea was that people are eternal but I used that thought to claim I was immortal for one year. This worried people and was the case for my admission to the psychiatric unit in Penticton. It is interesting that I thought that perhaps the universe was never created nor will be destroyed and that the human race needs to make the world finite in order to understand that we even exist, because technically we may not.But instead of the normal heady arguments I should bring up the art of dreaming.I do not feel the need to just from an airplane or off a bridge tied to a rope. But I did last night while asleep. The bungee jump was an amazing feeling. I think I know why people do that now but I will only participate in these risky ventures in my lucid dreams. I can live without the adrenaline rush and in dreams I have transparent wings.The rest is wondrous. How can we fly around, dive from the sky, climb mountains and surf the best waves imaginable and still wake up refreshed? Does the mind ever rest?I think I could live a existence in the doldrums without watching mind-numbing cartoons to settle my brain. This idea makes me think that the mind never really stops going for anyone but I should stay with my own personal experience. My body is often fatigued, like any mortal man. When I laid in that psychiatric drug induced coma I feared that my mind would never return.

It has, so I am thankful now and more wary of my self-destructive nature.I write to clarify my thoughts and find while they are abstract that I take to writing literally. That is why not everything found on my blog has been published in real media, it is not all entertaining. On the other hand, when my mind is working in a very literal way I tend to write abstract stories, play psychedelic music and try to piece together weird cartoons. This is a paradox of my experience and I wonder sometimes if it is true across the board. I have never asked it this clearly before now.The idea that dreams are a minds way of clarifying the day is an interesting note. It seems that waking states effect dreams as the memory of something will effect you later but I doubt it is any more than that because I dream a lot of stuff that has no relation to my waking state, unless strictly metaphoric. So is there truly a world that we go to while asleep?I have shared dreams with others on more than one occasion. Once there was a young woman that introduced herself as wanting to meet me because she dreamed I was a sorcerer in a tall structure that had walls marked in my tattoos. I was rather distinctive at the time and she seemed baffled at the situation. I kept her number because it excited me to no end. I did not remember having the same dream that night but visualized it happening as she explained it to me. It seemed entirely possible and in the same sort of form as my dream. One can’t be sure if her suggestion made me remember the event or if I would have actually dreamed it.On a much earlier occasion I can recall meeting with a group of friends around a particular picnic table of the beach and bringing up the last time we sat there. It was as if we went through an earthquake and were unable to leave the table to gain cover. I brought this to the conversation and we had a strange moment until one friend came across the idea that we had all dreamed this together. This moment led me to begin taking dreaming seriously. I don’t think I could ever thank the man who pointed it out enough.So maybe instead of bungee jumping tonight I will try another sport that I am afraid to partake in during the wakeful hours. Hopefully the lawn bowling club in dream land is open on Sunday night. But that is perception as some people love lawn bowling and think that is the manlier sport.The old question is: How can I be certain my blue is not your green? The truth is you can’t. I think that it what I am trying to say with these ever changing names of my musical groups. I am still the same person behind the microphone. The songs don’t change, though every time I play them they are slightly different.

When asked, the response given can only be as true as the parties believe. One must take into account that he has asked only for a response, even if he suggests he wants the truth. That is why everyone’s perception is augmented and makes the correct answer to every question “We have just been asked to give an opinion.” Nobody can be certain that they are correct. Nobody, it seems, knows truth. The truth is found when people realize that they have simply asked an opinion.

That is not to say that everything is a lie. It just suggests there is no truth or at least that truth is variable.