Who was King Nitram?

Remember I made a big to-do about "The Death of King Nitram?" http://www.kingnitram.com/ That was the end of last summer. 2005.

He has been dead for six months.

And now, in light of seperation, new careers, and a phenomenal unknown which keeps it all together -- I wonder, who was King Nitram?

What if I told you he represented my worst fear for myself? What if I told you he was created as a strategy to encapsulate, confront, and act out my deepest karma? And what if I truly accepted the 100% responsibility for such a trip?

Lord!

Or, would you be one of the ones more inclined to believe he represents what is timeless, more ever-lasting than any thing: man, woman, or child?

Either way, I find myself miraculously swayed -- I think, as we all do -- through a veil of sweet illusion that is as real as lace on smooth skin. Purple twilight is a divine color. And Love is real, love is real, love is real!

I horde good ideas.

And I am realizing this can be a very selfish behaivior. After all, a truly good (and original) idea really ought to be realized. It should happen.

To think that I will ever execute ALL of my good ideas by myself is ridiculous beyond laughable -- hell, yah'll, I'd be lucky to get even one of them totally done.

So, I'm relaxing. Besides, you just never know: One of the necessary steps in accomplishing a dream, often times, includes letting it go. . .so, it really could be one of those things at any time.

Anyway, here is one that I'd like to see happening (if it isn't already):

You know, wireless internet, laptops, and coffee shops were, like, freaking meant to be together. It is like True Love, man. How could laptops and coffeeshops never NOT have been together?? It was destiny, dude!

So, Blogs are becoming quite the rage, afterall -- and you know already how I think Blogs are generally written not as art/entertainment but as personal online diaries with a common understanding that little or almost no consideration is necessary to be paid to the audience. That's fine. I take shits too. It's just, when I put my shit up for display, well, I figure it only makes sense to have a pretty good spiel worked out as to why I would do something so outrageous.

Well, for those of us who care enough to make ourselves deeply understood (as can the power of the medium achieve), I think a live venue would be cool.

The format, I imagine, would go like this: ONE RULE! Only your newest post! Get a cordless mic, and pass it around. Anybody who would want to read their newest post could do so. Maximum time limit enforced. If a particular Blogger's reading is popular, they are allowed to read an additional article.

And that can go on as long as any one individual can hold an audience captive.

Fuck it. How hard would it be to put this good idea into action? I'm gonna do it. Ack. But it's raining right now. Don't wanna go out in the rain. Hey, man, LA streets are dangerous when slippery! I'll hit up Insomnia and Psychobabble soon, I promise.

ok, peace

Denial is bad.

And you know it.

When I am famous.

You may find yourself taking the time to document my epic life. In an effort to assist you putting the metaphors and great literary elements together, consider this:

My San Lazaro candle has nearly burned to completion.

And so I remember my prayer to Saint Lazarus, so many years ago:

When I met you in Heaven, you laughed like a child -- your body was healed and you were dancing. I said to you, "Lazarus! You are singing! It is as if you are celebrating your life of ailment and pain!"

You said unto me, "My love, it is nothing. We are blessed."

And when I understood this I begged of him, "Let be as you are connected to God! Lazarus, my teacher!"

Lovely Lady, Enchanted Desire --

What I see in you naturally, I find so hard to see in myself.

It takes a whole lotta good medicine for me to pretend that I'm somebody else.

That cold conservative religion.

Ever wonder why it's been kicking so hard lately?

Yah, you know, that old Christianity -- she's really been putting an old conservative fit up lately. Damn near drive ya crazy.

Well, it's a little like this: When something is dying, it burps and struggles pretty hard right up until it gives in.

Now, ya'll don't think something like Religion ever gonna go away, do ya? I never said nuthin' about no good ol' Religion. That's been the same ever since yo' momma too was born in this world. I'm talking 'bout them Romans who killed Jesus Christ Almighty -- I'm telling ya polite, friend, they got to be forgiven too! And once they been, well, they can git' on.

And that'll be good for everybody, people. Them ol' 60s weren't about nuthin, you know.

Stop Ignoring the Girls!! Do drugs and philosophize!

Some of the best worst advice possible. Ahh, "Stop ignoring the girls, do drugs, and philosophize." It is wonderful.

Unfortunately however, it is true: "Drugs and Philosophy go together like oil and water -- as in, they don't mix. Oh sure, shake it up, do a jig, add a little spice and you've got food for anybody to eat, but none-the-less -- the ingridients are absolutely unique.

As for girls. . .Well, ignoring them is definitely out-of-the-question.

They say the sexes don't understand one another. That is not true. The difference and division between the sexes is what doesn't understand one another!, because man and woman absolutely do understand each other.

In essense: Woman is the energy closest to God, but not God. Man energy is God, but he cannot be, for as a man he is mortal. He chooses mortality because he is in Love with Woman. His love, miraculously representative of the divine in him, makes Woman feel as though she is Loved, yes, by God.

These are the simple mechanics of Great Love.

How do you see it? How can you not see it.

Love.

Dismantle the Empire from within

The men who are in power are not in power because they have a bigger gun. Or a faster draw. Or computer-guided targeting missile systems, tanks, super-sonic war-planes, and chicks with big white boobies.

No.

They are the 'Man' because most of the people in the world allow these mens' thoughts to dictate their reality. Education, media, tradition, etc. The material wealth is a result of their gluttony and wallowing in this natural power, and the guns are an attempt to protect themselves against what they know must someday happen.

To oppose their worldly power in any forum other than your own mind is 99% of the time pointless, individually or collectively -- you see, there is no advantage in such a hopeless position of conflict. The revolutionary is crushed in body, mind, and spirit before anything is accomplished. And what remains?

The real power, the true power lies in KNOWING that all things must rise after they have fallen.

It is not this money machine which must fall, or these 'men' with big guns. It is the correct Spirit that will again rise and fill the consciousness of the people.

Has everyone forgotten? Only two hundred years ago, a great nation of fierce, proud, and reverent people still travelled this America freely, as they had for thousands of years -- literally -- before that. My people were strong with nature, and understood better than the western man that eternal life is a cycle of great death and rebirth -- every winter and spring.

How hard it was to accept that all of those lives were but leaves, and that the entire heritage could lie dormant in something so small as a seed! But it is true! Those traditions, seemingly wiped out of existence, lie quivering in the breeze and bristling in the sunlight. They are not destroyed; they have been transmuted into POWER.

A great genocide -- a drought, a forest fire -- happened right here at home long before the consequences of what we are doing over in the Middle East, or even what we have done in Japan and south east Asia, will ever affect our individual lives.

It is not about punishment. Can the fire be blamed? Power is to side with the inevitability of new trees growing, for hundreds of years if necessary, until they stand taller, wiser, and older than what was lost. Power is to realize that no amount of brain-washing can extinguish this spirit of rebirth & freedom. Power is to concentrate on this energy. Power is to allow your life's work to become this energy because it satisfies your soul and makes your elders proud.

Power does not overtly disrupt the functioning of this great civilization. The sapplings are still vulnerable, so why create a new fire? Power does not foolishly squander its talent or strategy without gain. Power does not need to display itself violently or aggressively because true power is greater than all those things. True power grows. . .

To know this brand of power is to also know that those men who appear to have all the power (only by controling the material wealth of the world) are sick with it -- a prison from which they cannot escape. They are bored and are insatiably looking for any type of thrill. The motion and limitless experience of divine right was lost with them generations ago. They are inbred now, and impotent. They cannot hear their thoughts like a babbling brook, or hear their Lover at all times whispering sweet nothing to them. They are miserable. And when this desire to be free of it is ripe, power will grant their wish -- not destroy them or fight them -- the curtain will simply be closed, the wonderful play is now over. They will go home. And they will finally begin to see what life was worth living for.

Then everything, everything, everything in existence will mature: Spring will give way to business of Summer. Those who have been preparing for many years will be in the most advantageous position to capitalize in this period, for their roots will be established and poised to produce a bounty of fruit. Indeed, the leaders of the new world are already knowing it into existence.

Mr. Jesus, please, We Need a New Story!

Mr. Jesus, after you were crucified, I heard that you came back, alive.

In a way, and pardon my sacriledge, I always kinda took that to mean the cross was now sort of ours to bear. Both, because we killed you--You! It really was..., and because any man who understands what you were saying knows he will suffer in this mortal world as you suffered.

But Mr. Jesus -- please let me be humble. Let me confess that I know not the mind of God. Let me show nothing but Love of Him when I ask, "Is that our Father's most important lesson?"

"That His Son, Jesus the Christ, must be murdered by his own people? And be reborn only to watch in silence as the hippocrits adopt his language and make a New World Religion out of it?"

I apologize for such heavy laments tonight. There is no place for them in the bounty of this blessed Earth.

May I suggest that the solution lies with us, the People? And may I go so far as to propose its conceptual base? I regret my arrogance eternally.

If your story of Crucifiction and Ressurection were only half the story -- I think perhaps people could accept it really is like that if they also were shown by you that it is also like Gautama Siddartha showed us: An outwardly peaceful inner Struggle for Attainment.

Lord, forgive me for presuming to know the plan, or seeking to affect it outside of my mortal responsibilities. I just don't think people are really getting it in numbers large enough to calm the beast.

Peace and Love is all I desire.

Getting away from death now.

Ok, I've been really making headlines with this metaphorical death talk for a couple of weeks now. And though it is tempting to go with what is popular, the subject is -- pardon me -- sort of for the dead. I personally feel alive!

When I first came to Los Angeles to learn the ways of the "Big Time", I had come straight of out of some forest fantasy of rural Montana. I had watched almost no TV growing up, and instead of getting mixed up with trouble and girls in High School, I found a friend and set an athletic goal for ourselves, which we achieved. I was in another world, and I did not get the same education.

But upon graduation, I knew I was lacking and so I definitely wanted to "get it". So, off to the city.

How can I say this and fully communicate just how BIG the "Big Time" happened on my naive ass? I got tooled? Naw, ass was involved, but I think I licked it -- I made it straight into a lucrative career, made lots of friends, got credits on classic movies like South Park and Kung Pow. I loved a woman, and she stuck it out with me through the whole deal. It was incredible, man!

Even so, almost 30 now, and for all intents and purposes, having made a complete loop of the monopoly board, I find myself standing again right in the beginning. Right at "Go".

So I have been reflecting intensely on my journey and, I guess you would say, making some preparations based on prior experience for what I anticipate is coming up soon.

This naturally is not all mental. It is running in tandem with my daily experience.

So my current realization is that, when I was younger, I really really was too over-whelmed with the "new-ness" of the city and my innocent love people to recognize my own light.

Yes.

And so, not realizing my own worth, I gave it away freely, even to my own demise. If you ask anybody who knew me, they would admit some variation of that truth.

I don't think that was a bad way to be. Actually, I even believe it is/was sort of inspirational -- afterall, I am still here, no worse for the wear, and what have I lost? And what really did they gain off of me?

. . .

Only my light, but the more I pay attention and value my inner light, the more that I realize nothing, not even the respect of a loved one, is more valuable than the single star which guides the wiseman. It is all that I am!

Still, I want to give it freely, but this is my point: These years have left me feeling that it is not worth giving to someone who will not honor and respect it. Curiously, I have found that those who know how to pay heed to the value of another have first, also, discovered the value of themselves. And so exchanges with such people are really quite amazing, as each person has so much to freely give the other.

It has to be abstract -- it is Thoughts.

In line with what I have been saying, then,

The Death that can be practiced,
Is death of the MIND --
The Body's passing happens in an interval that could allow many, many years to be spent in mental delusion before clarity is achieved. It is best to practice more frequently. When appropriate, allow to happen experiences which seem to be a death of the 'self'.

You will learn about your Body Truth, which will awaken your Spirit Truth truth.

And then, the true Life-Span of our Selves (which is eternal) is perceived naturally.

The New Life-Span

The modern age has not brought us physical immortality, but it certainly has increased our longevity. It is probable most of us will live well into our 70s and 80s. Or even older.

Along with this successful battle against early expiration has come a cultural consciousness which deplores death and glorifies the sustainance of the individual self above all else.

Such an attitude creates quite a conflict when the natural ebbs and flows of life require a person to let go of what was and become what is -- undergo one of the "little deaths", as I have many times called it. A person may be straight unwilling to do it, continue clinging to the past, and eventually suffer a much more dramatic loss, as life simply must go on.

Unfortunately, almost no one talks about death. The subject is taboo -- you are somewhat morbid if you go there. And afterall, who is anybody to talk about it? To really know anything about it, you would have to have been dead! So, there may be no experts. . .

None-the-less, people are dying right and left, here and there, and everywhere. Death is front-page news. In many smaller ways, children growing up and going away to college, divorces, career-changes, and an infinite list of more sublime life changes are causing people to confront the experience of death.

Still, there is no language for it! And the irony, in this modern era, is that -- due to increased lifespan -- each of us will persevere many more "death" experiences than ever before!

Still nobody is talking about it.

It is my humble belief that this dialogue must come to the surface so that people can truly begin to benefit from this miracle of medicine and technology. And then, when the natural end comes to a period of your life, go with it. Allow yourself to be reborn into the next phase of your growth. Begin to understand death as a natural process of Eternal Life.

Addictive Suicide

There are many ways to kill yourself.

I've talked extensively about this subject, but still some may be unaware: I think dying is the best. I suggest everyone become quite adept at dying. Practice dying! You know, when the actual day comes, you may want to be as prepared as possible for it -- remember, the gnashing-of-teeth bit?

The gunshot to the head is bad practice. You are a rank beginner if you blow the whole deal in one second. Welcome to Hell, boy. However, I've mentioned repeatedly of the smoking thing -- you don't actually think every smoker in the world isn't fully aware of the killing quality of inhaling fire? No, in fact that is the numero uno reason it is done:

To die.

Lighten up, hippie. Look around you: Everybody, a-hem, everybody is killing themselves one way or another. It's like the sun is setting, yo.

So you have many options. MOST LIKELY, you are already rather compulsively attached to a particular type of mini-death. Who doesn't like to go to sleep?

Anyway, there are ka-bunches of ways to do it. Many lifestyles, not-with-standing, terrifically exciting lifestyles, are fast-tracks to death. Any material possession is bound to kill you eventually, because life will be damned to let you keep anything for ever. There are more invasive habits, of course, the most gnarly of which to engage is the habit of militant self-thought control. Men are particularly attached to the noose. You know, choke the hell out of that chicken. Spank that monkey, yes, I said, "Spank him to death."

Sex is really the best. You head straight for the light, kamikaze-style, and you just burn up like a fire in the sky. I think it must be quite funny for women around the world to see their raging bull-Man collapse in their sloppy thighs, a panting, quivering fart. How pathetic! That's Love man!

Now, my point in mentioning all of this is simple: Actually, dying is really dying, it is inevitable, but there is no need not to LIVE THE WAY YOU WANNA LIVE BEFORE YOU DIE.

That is a struggle for each individual, with strategies somewhat open for debate. But I can say this: The more you value it, the more you will pay attention to its passing. And like they always say, "You don't know what you've got until you lose it."

Practice dying. Learn what Life is worth.

I said it 1000 times.

Everybody knows what it is to be human. Everybody gets it. Everybody can TELL you all about it. The mathmatics of life.

The first line of the Tao, however, is: "The Tao that can be expressed is not the Eternal Tao."

That which is BEYOND the veil of illusion is unspeakable. That is because language (and all constructs of human existence) are part of the veil! It is very simple logic. No matter how much information or evidence is accumulated, none of it can equal or be greater than that which is greatest. Simple!

And yet, since *EVERYTHING* is a sub-set of this "Greatest Thing", then it is also true that every little detail and nuance, no matter how insignificant, is also the Greatest Thing! This is great news!

People will spend most of their lives arguing their way around the ramifications of this very simple reasoning, but it is a waste of time -- there is no way around the truth. And in fact, the depth of "truth" is so wild and profound and deep and mysterious that you might as well just 'fess up to it and get on with discovering it. Unless you start digging, there is no possible way you will get to the bottom of it.

And really the Greatest Thing is the greatest because it really is the greatest. So stop it. Surrender. Get on with it.

Read Me Now:

You my Heart of Emptiness.
Keep Love Ing Me. . .
fill me up with all your Nothing.
Jus keep loving me.

Forever GOD's Son,
Jesus Christ Almighty--
I try, I know, to put myself on your cross, just a fool. . .
jus a fool to be like you, and I beg to you humbly,
Lord!
Keep loving me!

Baby Girl, Woman Inside,I see you lookin' like today
you was feelin' mighty fine, and I gotta say. . .
I know exactly what that is! I know what makes you shine!
Don't tell me you don't know exactly what I'm talking about,
Man sees it, and it's written by the blood flowing outcha:
You'e dying for me to be like I am--Lord, I know!
You are Woman! Keep loving me!
Keep Love Ing me!

Keep loving me,
jus keep loving me
(You known you was mine all the time, but who am I? who am I?)
Keep lovin me
keep lovin me
keep lovin me
(I forget where I came from!)
keep lovin
keep lovin
(I forget where I came from!)
Lord, I forget
( I forget!!! )
Jus keep loving me!

Lost a whole lotta water, flowing underneath that bridge,
Each and every day, for'd nearly a century or more I'd say--
and only God hears her song she sings it up there up n at em as the sun shines at her
each and every day by day by day!

They say it gotta end, right, everything gotta end, ha!
But I can't see no reason why!
Except for our ugly faces, seems She could make it all perfect, right?
for a Mighty Long Time.
As they say, bitches, and well boys,
so shall they seem to be be -- I'll tell ya something right now,
my lady is timeless.
That's Eternity.
And alls I gotta do is find her! And everything is a'ight for me.

Not much left to say, something says we gotta end it. And we do.
keep loving, man, whooooo! eee!
people gotta keep loving WE, man! Loving We! Man KIND!
Can't you see, can't you see?
keep loving me.
keep loving me.

Why Is One Ant Not Like the Other Ants?

I sit on the toilet. Next to me, on the window sill, marching down the wall to the bathtub, towards the faucet, I watch ants relentlessly invading my bathroom. They march, exchanging quick greetings with ants marching the opposite direction.

They move forward with maddening purpose. They are unstoppable. Where I have devastated a thousand of them with a burst of 409, a hundred thousand replace them. There is no tragedy that can phase them. Ants will find a way, against all odds. Starvation is practically all you can do to them, and even still they are not beaten, they just go someplace else, probably ten times further the distance.

Mindless fucks. I hate them.

Do they not know doubt? What is this slavish purpose to which the entire species is devouted? Is there some outrageous orgy of writhing sexual bliss going on back at the Hive? Is the Queen THAT good?? Or do they just work so hard only to survive?

God, how I hate them for their single-mindedness.

But wait.

What is that ant doing? The one on the window sill. I watch him. He walks, meandering, apart from the rest of his compatriots. Perhaps he is a scout. No. He just stopped and is standing there doing nothing. Consulting the spirits, perhaps.

Bwah-ha, if that is the case, then I'm his god because his paltry life is utterly in my hands: I psychically tell him that he is doomed. He is nothing more than a pitiful ant. Bwah-ha-ha.

He staggers a few steps this way, a few steps that way. But he gets nowhere.

Oh-ho! A friend has strayed from the pack! She has come out to talk to him!

They tangle antanaes for a few minutes. He turns away. She pursues him. He runs and stops. She stands there for a minute, turns around and heads back for the procession.

How touching. I am touched -- this ant is really high on something.

But now he is utterly alone. He is unwilling to get in line with the rest of his people. So be it.

I am growing to like this little ant. How crazy must the rest of his community think him to be? He probably waxes on about "the Divine Tapestry" and such. He is probably accused of being an egotist and worse. A freak. Abnormal. Cursed.

He probably says to his lover, "I saw Man again today." And she screams and cries, "Why must you mention The Beast's name?? It's as if you are diseased or obsessed!"

He will die inside, being so misunderstood, but none-the-less, he will continue his thought: "It occurs to me that perhaps Man is just like us, only bigger. What if there is an entire civilization of Mans, with complex social procedures, just like us? Perhaps as things get bigger or smaller, perhaps the pattern remains the same!! And if that is so, then maybe this is--"

Surely she interrupts him and exclaims, "Why do you ALWAYS TALK CRAZY TALK??!"

Haha, yah. I bet this ant has gone through something like that. Why else would he be acting so nutty?

Jesus. He must be depressed. Now I feel bad for him. He isn't doing anything. Just sitting there apart from the rest. God, I'm feeling bad for him.

Maybe he is just old. Ah-ha, I bet that is it. I wonder how old ants get. I wonder if you can tell by looking.

I lean over, my own purpose on the toilet forgotten. I get close, and closer, trying to inspect him. Hmmm. He looks in fine shape. All six legs. He looks symetrical. He looks as strong as any other ant. Hard to say if he--

WHAT THE FUCK!?!!

OH MY GOD!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!

JESUS H. CHRIST.

My ant has just jumped OFF the window sill! Oh my God! I swear to you he was right on the edge a minute ago and now, boom, he jumped.

I watched him do it. I even told him he was doomed. Man, if I am God, then I suck at it.

(This is a true story, fools.)