Dylanesque (the new adventures of the Ferry man)
Trish's final day of work for the week began a little later than usual for her, a later arising; my own, as usual, did not respond to Lunesta. Will be glad to return to trazadone.
Fixed Hungry Jack for breakfast. Then our usual 1/2 caf coffee; sitting in front of Hannah Montana & wishing there were pulsating spheres in Invisible City, North Dakota.
But I'd written some email to her dad about the lead vacuum cleaner. Then got a "mail delivery subsystem &c" out of the machine. Trish decided her dad didn't love her anymore (J.T.) & we called Ruth, who was appalled that Sears had sold us lead, especially when Lead's patent on God has expired as the culmination of a new chemical philosophy.
If the Invisible Daily doesn't want to do a story about how Sears is attempting to sell polluted vacuums, we'll get our buckadingdongs back. Might make me famous.
I do not enjoy fame or notoriety. Shorey lionized me, & it frightened me; drifting in & out of U-boat dreams. & then Muhammad Ali made a Panther out of me in the backlash from the Acid Letter. Alfalfa High, the place all my friends went after 3rd year, all also made of me a pariah: Frak Vadis, anyway.
But fame sells books, & mine are my children. Trish had her tubes tied; memes are all I have, & logoi. (Sometime I must ask the Thomas group about the two & the one.) I must somehow discover for them a means of propogation.
Ate lunch around 11:00, soup & sandwiches, then taxi-grab.
I once more experienced Dawn on Pluto. In the future, there will be many Dawns: Earth, Moon & Mars; Dawn in the Andromeda galaxy, far removed from Andromeda Spaceways, a crappy amateur magazine who insults contributors when they say something that's actually intelligent, their knowledge of science being limited to the "gee whiz, it's a rocketship" shit.
--Tower to spaceship! Tower to spaceship! You get down here right away!
--No! I won't!
--Then we're going to have to blast you!
(His power drill shocks 1,000,000 miles away.)
So shortly before Roxy (hot bod but such a military bitch) re-enters the scene, my creativity went into interstellar overdrive, at least up to the point where the headaches drove me away from the computer, & pretty much at scene-changing time.
Trish walked me over to the vid-store once the cab dropped her off, to pick up the new Ferry: Dylanesque. I was dizzy. Dizzy-dizzy; about to collapse at any instant. I walked like a car down Dawn's Highway.
We fixed fish sticks & crinkle fries for supper, then Trish cleaned the kitchen, after I talked with Fred. One more lawn job. Szabo wants to hear me on keyboards; asked Fred for help -- wasn't necessarily forthcoming, but taping a few songs shouldn't hurt, albeit I can only tape straight off the signal source.
Watched the Buffster kick ass for the rest of the night.
Then lay down beside her with Toastie Bear on 4. Woke up at 5:00. Still have headache. Will either chat or create a new Dawn.
Fixed Hungry Jack for breakfast. Then our usual 1/2 caf coffee; sitting in front of Hannah Montana & wishing there were pulsating spheres in Invisible City, North Dakota.
But I'd written some email to her dad about the lead vacuum cleaner. Then got a "mail delivery subsystem &c" out of the machine. Trish decided her dad didn't love her anymore (J.T.) & we called Ruth, who was appalled that Sears had sold us lead, especially when Lead's patent on God has expired as the culmination of a new chemical philosophy.
If the Invisible Daily doesn't want to do a story about how Sears is attempting to sell polluted vacuums, we'll get our buckadingdongs back. Might make me famous.
I do not enjoy fame or notoriety. Shorey lionized me, & it frightened me; drifting in & out of U-boat dreams. & then Muhammad Ali made a Panther out of me in the backlash from the Acid Letter. Alfalfa High, the place all my friends went after 3rd year, all also made of me a pariah: Frak Vadis, anyway.
But fame sells books, & mine are my children. Trish had her tubes tied; memes are all I have, & logoi. (Sometime I must ask the Thomas group about the two & the one.) I must somehow discover for them a means of propogation.
Ate lunch around 11:00, soup & sandwiches, then taxi-grab.
I once more experienced Dawn on Pluto. In the future, there will be many Dawns: Earth, Moon & Mars; Dawn in the Andromeda galaxy, far removed from Andromeda Spaceways, a crappy amateur magazine who insults contributors when they say something that's actually intelligent, their knowledge of science being limited to the "gee whiz, it's a rocketship" shit.
--Tower to spaceship! Tower to spaceship! You get down here right away!
--No! I won't!
--Then we're going to have to blast you!
(His power drill shocks 1,000,000 miles away.)
So shortly before Roxy (hot bod but such a military bitch) re-enters the scene, my creativity went into interstellar overdrive, at least up to the point where the headaches drove me away from the computer, & pretty much at scene-changing time.
Trish walked me over to the vid-store once the cab dropped her off, to pick up the new Ferry: Dylanesque. I was dizzy. Dizzy-dizzy; about to collapse at any instant. I walked like a car down Dawn's Highway.
We fixed fish sticks & crinkle fries for supper, then Trish cleaned the kitchen, after I talked with Fred. One more lawn job. Szabo wants to hear me on keyboards; asked Fred for help -- wasn't necessarily forthcoming, but taping a few songs shouldn't hurt, albeit I can only tape straight off the signal source.
Watched the Buffster kick ass for the rest of the night.
Then lay down beside her with Toastie Bear on 4. Woke up at 5:00. Still have headache. Will either chat or create a new Dawn.
2 Comments:
My apologies for placing a non-related comment on your blogsite but I have no other way of directly contacting you. I suspect (hope?) that you may be interested in my work. I have just done a search on those who share my interest in Gnosticism on Blogger and your details have just come up. Indeed I was also motivated by the synchronicity of the word @Ferryman".
I am a writer based in the UK. My first book Is There Life After Death, The Extraordinary Science of What Happens When You Die was published just over a year ago. Since that time it has sold over 20,000 copies world-wide. However the reason I wrote the book is to get my theory out to the people who may find it interesting. I am hoping that you may be one of them.
Please take a moment to check out my Blogsite location and website (links below). I suspect that from your interest in Gnosticism that you may have some interesting things to say on the subject. I can send you an email that will allow you full access to my Blogsite Group. Just let me know. You can also put any comments (and I mean any) about the book itself or, more importantly, it will allow you to let my contacts know about your book and theories. Win-win situation (how rare that is in life!)
This is a genuine approach with no ulterior motivation other then to spread my ideas. I do hope that you would like to get involved.
Best Wishes
Anthony Peake
website: www.anthonypeake.com
blogsite: http://cheatingtheferryman.blogspot.com/
MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/cheat_the_ferryman
Free Downloadable copy of my book (USA Only): www.wowio.com/users/product.asp?BookId=1
I don't actually "believe" in Gnosticism. It simply makes sense out of a psychotic episode I had 30-something years ago. Which derived in part from an encyclopedia article on the same subject.
Where I feel Gnosticism is helpful for understanding modern philosophy, particularly that of modern science, is that it refutes "intelligent design":
1) There are plenty of examples of "stupid design" around.
2) "Proving that the world was 'made'" doesn't prove that the Creator God is good, or unmade.
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