March 23, 2005
Paradise of Song: Revisit
I don't write good stories, cuz I don't have the tolerence nor I have the patience. Seems like my mind always wanders to too many random places, yet in slow mo. Paradise is yet another one of my fave stories which I posted it about 2 years ago. If you happened to be the few that got the X'mas CD, it's on that too, among other things...
This piece is a bit long, but in the end, it does have a 'good' ending. I don't read too much cuz for me, a lot of times it causes confusion. Prolly not a bright reader either cuz I think I tend to disect a lot of information too slowly - like a sleepy manatee. Anyway, I find Paradise sublimely melancholic.
If life is what you see is true, therefore what is not to see?
--
Ahangar was a mighty swordsmith who lived in one of Afghanistan's remote eastern valleys. In time of peace he made steel ploughs, shoed horses and, above all, he sang.
The songs of Ahangar, who is known by different names in various parts of Central Asia, were eagerly listened to by the people of the valleys. They came from the forests of giant walnuts trees, from the snowcapped Hindu-Kush, from Qataghan and Badakhshan, from Khanabad and Kunar, from Herat and Paghman, to hear his songs.
Above all, the people came to hear the song of all songs, which was Ahangar's Song of the Valley of Paradise.
This song had a haunting quality, and a strange lilt, and most of all it had a story which was so strange that people felt they knew the remote Valley of Paradise of which the smith sang. Often they asked him to sing it when he was not in the mood to do so, and he would refuse. Sometimes people asked him whether the Valley was truly real, and Ahangar could only say:
"The Valley of the Song is as real as real can be."
"But how do you know?" the people would ask, "Have you ever been there?"
To Ahangar, and to nearly all the people who heard him, the Valley of the Song was, however, real, real as real can be.
Aisha, a local maiden whom he loved, doubted whether there was such a place. So, too, did Hasan, a braggart and fearsome swordsman who swore to marry Aisha, and who lost no opportunity of laughing at the smith.
One day, when the villagers were sitting around silently after Ahangar had been telling his tale to them, Hasan spoke:
"If you believe that this valley is so real, and that it is, as you say, in those mountains of Sangan yonder, where the blue haze rises, why do you not try to find it?"
"It would not be right, I know that," said Ahangar.
"You know what it is convenient to know, and do not know what you do not want to know!" shouted Hasan. "Now, my friend, I propose a test. You love Aisha, but she does not trust you. She has no faith in this absurd Valley of yours. You could never marry her, because when there is no confidence between man and wife, they are not happy and all manner of evils result."
"Do you expect me to go to the valley, then?" asked Ahangar.
"Yes," said Hasan and all the audience together.
"If I go and return safely, will Aisha consent to marry me?" asked Ahangar.
"Yes," murmured Aisha.
So Ahangar, collecting some dried mulberries and a scrap of bread, set off for the distant mountains.
He climbed and climbed, until he came to a wall which encircled the entire range. When he had ascended its sheer sides, there was another wall, even more precipitous then the first. After that there was a third, then a fourth, and finally a fifth wall.
Descending on the other side, Ahangar found that he was in a valley, strikingly similar to his own.
People came out to welcome him, and as he saw them, Ahangar realized that something very strange was happening.
Months later, Ahangar the Smith, walking like an old man, limped into his native village, and made for his humble hut.
As word of his return spread throughout the countryside, people gathered in front of his home to hear what his adventures had been.
Hasan the swordsman spoke for them all, and called Ahangar to his window.
There was a gasp as everyone saw how old he had become.
"Well, Master Ahangar, and did you reach the Valley of Paradise?"
"I did."
"And what was it like?"
Ahangar, fumbling for his words, looked at the assembled people with a weariness and hopelessness that he had never felt before. He said:
"I climbed and I climbed, and I climbed. When it seemed as though there could be no human habitation in such a desolate place, and after many trials and disappointments, I came upon a valley. This valley was exactly like the one in which we live. And then I saw the people. Those people are not only like us people: they are the same people. For every Hasan, every Aisha, every Ahangar, every anybody whom we have here, there is another one, exactly the same in that valley."
"These are likenesses and reflections to us, when we see such things. But it is we who are the likeness and reflection of them--we who are here, we are their twins..."
Everyone thought that Ahangar had gone mad through his privations, and Aisha married Hasan the swordsman. Ahangar rapidly grew old and died. And all the people, every one who had heard this story from the lips of Ahangar, first lost heart in their lives, then grew old and died, for they felt that something was going to happen over which they had no control and from which they had no hope, and so they lost interest in life itself.
It is only once in a thousand years that this secret is seen by man. When he sees it, he is changed. When he tells its bare facts to others, they wither and die out.
People think that such an event is a catastrophe, and so they must not know about it, for they cannot understand [such is the nature of their ordinary life] that they have more selves than one, more hopes than one, more chances than one--up there, in the Paradise of the Song of Ahangar, the mighty smith.
Text: Idries Shah - Wisdom of the Idiots
February 15, 2005
From Sweet Daniel
Choose a band/artist and answer only in song TITLES by that band: Lush
Are you male or female:
Monochrome
Describe yourself:
Lovelife
How do some people feel about you:
I've Been Here Before
How do you feel about yourself:
Heavenly
Describe your ex girlfriend/boyfriend:
Ciao!
Describe your current girlfriend/boyfriend:
Sweetness and Light
Describe where you want to be:
I'd Like to Walk Around in Your Mind
Describe what you want to be:
Light from a Dead Star
Describe how you live:
For Love
Describe how you love:
Nothing Natural
Share a few words of wisdom:
Tralala
Thanks mate!
September 25, 2004
Resumé / Everyman / Everywoman
 |
On another note, remember John Lennon/Yoko Ono's album Double Fantasy? Specifically, the song Every Man Has a Woman Who Loves Him? [Most peeps are prolly like, "Yikes, Yoko Ono!!" This time around Yoko came out with her own version of the song to reflect the gay community... woohoo!! Basement Jaxx did a Man2Man, Woman2Woman and a regular Str8 version... I uploaded a couple of mixes to my radioblog. I know I have a lot of songs in there... But if you happened to be in the mood, feel free to dig around, you'll find them...
Have a wonderful weekend! Signing off...
--
Every man has a man who loves him
In rain or shine or life and death
If he finds him in this lifetime
He will know when he looks into his eyes
Why do I roam when I know you're the one
Why do I laugh when I feel like crying
Every woman has a woman who loves her
Rise or fall of her life and death
If she finds her in this life time
She will know when she presses her ear to her breast
Why do I roam when I know you're the one
Why do I run when I feel like holding you
Every man has a man who loves him
If he finds him in this lifetime
He will know...
July 26, 2004
The Faithful Wish: Revisit
One day a simpleton threw a coin down a wishing well. He wished for another coin. Later, as he walked upon the road, he found a coin.
The next day the man again threw a coin into the well, wished for a coin, and found a coin upon the road. This continued for several days and always the man wished for a coin, found a coin, and used it to wish for another.
At the end of a week the man cast two coins into the wishing well.
'I won't be able to come here tomorrow.' he explained.
Text: Thomas Wiloch - Tales of Lord Shantih
--
Another one of my fave short stories. I've posted this some time last year, and I tend to re-read my books often... So I'm getting inspired again! heh! Tho at times I don't fully quite grasp the 'full' or the 'intended' meaning of each story, but I know somewhere in the minute universe of my wee-mind, it constantly searches and finds its own way to interpret and decipher such...
'I won't be able to come here tomorrow." I find that a little sad... I wish good health and happiness for everyone!!!
July 19, 2004
i
The Magnetic Fields were excellent, to say the least. I didn't think I would like 'em as much. A quartet: a piano, a guitar/steel guitar/banjo, a cello and an ukelele player. The music was semi-tragically melodic and soothing, easy to listen to... Stephin's vocal was solemn and low and sweet and at times hardly audible - his trademark kinda. All the songs were beautifully executed in acoustic versions. His lyrics at times were fun-knee, tho mostly dreamy, reflective and poignant. Put a lump in my heart...
IF YOU DON'T CRY [excerpt]
If you don't cry
it isn't love
If you don't cry
then you just don't feel it deep enough...
Text: Stephin Merritt
PS. I have altered time.
June 23, 2004
The Fish and the Water
A fish is the worst source of information on water.
It does not know that water is there when it is present, and only becomes agitated by its absence.
Even when deprived of it, the fish does not know what his problem is -- only that he feels bad, even desperate.
There is a fable about fish. They say that when a fish is scooped out of the water and lies gasping on the bank, he regards his misfortunes as stemming from anything and everything that he can think of. Sometimes he fights, sometimes he gives up. Sometimes he thinks that he should fight the trees, the grass, even the mud, as authors of his misfortunes. But it is only by accident that he ever flips back into the water. When he does he thinks how clever he has been. Generally, however, he dies.
Fish never see the net or know the hook. At best they blame the worm on the hook, the ropes to which the net is attached.
How sad to be a fish! How fortunate to be a man!
Text: Idries Shah - The Magic Monastery
June 01, 2004
Tinkerbell
Everybody knows a woman like me
Insecurity is my philosophy
I see other women as the competition
I'm always nice to men and so they're nice to me
But other girls always seem to be bitchin' about me
I say they must be jealous
I say that it's because their boyfriends all fancy me
Close my eyes and fantisize
Of all men envying me
So much fun to be number one
What good are sisters to me?
I just can't relate to some body
Unless I use my sexuality
Normal conversation always leaves me insecure
Men are so much more approachable
Clever, kind and intellectual
And I never feel uncomfortable in their company
Male appreciation is my one ambition
It's a competition I must win
When I talk to girls it's just monotonous shit
Because I don't want their friendship just their jealousy
Text: Miki Berenyi
Absolutely looove this song mp3, makes me bob my head everytime I hear it, heh!! So free, immature... and bitchy, in a frivolous way, of course! Not that I can relate to any of it... Lemme think... hmm... nah, don't think so! Stuart, this will be included on the compilation that I'm sending out to you tomorrow, among others! :-* Tootle-pip!
May 17, 2004
Yellow Girl
She tells her boat to stand by,
She tells her car to stand by,
She tells her plane to stand by,
But nobody knows she’s a stand by for life.
Stand by for life, stand by for life,
Somebody up there is giving her a run around.
She tells her men to stand by,
She tells her friends to stand by,
She tells her world to stand by,
But nobody knows she’s a stand by for life.
Stand by for life, stand by for life,
Somebody up there is giving her a run around.
Yellow girl, yellow girl, when will you learn?
Your life is sharp as knife,
But remember it cuts both ways.
Stand by for death, stand by for death,
Somebody down there is giving her a run around.
Yellow girl, yellow girl, when will you learn?
Your life is sharp as knife,
But remember it cuts both ways.
Ev’ry day’s a Sunday for yellow girl...
Text: Yoko Ono
May 06, 2004
It's Only Time
What could stop this beating heart
Once it's made a vow?
It's only time
It's only time
If rain won't change your mind
Let it fall
The rain won't change my heart
At all
Lock this chain around my hand
Throw away the key
It's only time
It's only time
Years falling like grains of sand
Mean nothing to me
It's only time
It's only time
If snow won't change your mind
Let it fall
The snow won't change my heart
Not at all
I'll walk your lands
And swim your sea
Marry me
Marry me
And in your hands
I will be free
Marry me
Marry me
Why would I stop loving you
A hundred years from now?
Text: Stephin Merritt
From their new release i, a splendid track from the prodigy behind The Magnetic Fields. Transcendent! mp3 [5.3MB]
May 04, 2004
Perfection
This particular song used to make me cry [yeup, call me a cry-baby, I don't care!], yet it also made me feel warm and fuzzy inside... The world isn't 'perfect'... war, famine, poverty, death of a loved one, or even the unimaginable... but yet I think to myself, when we do finally put every little thing together in this vast universe, it IS perfect... it is as perfect as perfect can be.
Maybe this is some sort of a grand delusion that I've made up for myself, a 'safety net'... maybe not. Or like my idea of when a person dies - whether one was 'good' or 'evil' - there's no heaven or hell, but to go to a 'good' place so the spirits can move on... and I've been told that I'm being totally 'selfish' to have such a thot!
One's good life can turn awry in a heartbeat. Take the good and the bad, whatever it is. The world can be topsy turvy, and even with all the mess and chaos, I'd still like to think that there is something genuinely good out there for each and every one of us... Believe and you shall receive. Truly.
--
LIGHT ON THE OTHER SIDE*
When I come to the dock and sit very still,
I wonder why on earth we fight and kill.
I see a light on the other side flickering to me,
As if to say, you’re alright, you’ll find your way.
The world is so beautiful when I’m out here,
Why can’t it be the same when we’re back there?
Above my head, straight ahead,
I see a bird gliding
As if to say, I’m alright, I’ll find my way.
Windows are shattered,
Streets are battered,
Kids are frightened,
Men are still at war.
Moms are feeling sad,
Dads are feeling bad.
I wanna know, I wanna know
If the world’s gone mad.
Above my head, straight ahead,
I see a bird gliding
As if to say, I’m alright, I’ll find my way.
Text: Yoko Ono
*I dedicate this song to Sushil. Hope you like it. mp3 [1.9MB]
April 21, 2004
The Heavy Heart
A story:
--
I was diagnosed on a dark, cold night last winter. I knew I probably had it. I’d been sicker than usual. So had my best friends (I’ve lost 14, including my three best friends).
I hadn’t lived as Mother Teresa. However, what I didn’t expect was the subtle change in the way I now perceive and prioritize everything and everyone. So much just doesn’t matter anymore. So much else is equally and simply priceless, such as friends (sick or well) and my own health.
Now, each day is a wonderful reprieve, each hour without aches and pains a bonus, and each doctor’s office visit is either a routine prophylaxis or another crash course in symptoms, diagnoses, and a trip to the friendly pharmacy. Is each pimple KS [Kaposi’s sarcoma]? Each cough PCP [pneumocystis carinii pneumonia]? Each bump some lymph-node trouble?
Am I angry? No! I played. I pay. I have no regrets! In my mirror I now see something new: a fighter and a survivor, willing to do anything to stay alive – as long as it is a quality life. I’m sympathetic to most of the goals of ACT-UP [AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power]; hopeful of a vaccine; overwhelmed by the loss of sooooo much talent, the size of The Quilt [an AIDS memorial I progress]; and the hope that “chronic manageable lifetime illness” will kick in before I check out.
Life is still very good, has much to offer, even with my immune problems. The alternative is another memorial service, another loss. Fighters last longer. I’m a fighter, fighting for my life.
At a camp my parents sent my brother and me to when we were young, there was a sign hung in the dining room that read: WHEN YOU THINK YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE THANKFUL FOR, BE THANKFUL FOR SOME OF THE THINGS YOU DON’T HAVE. This may sound morbid, but I have pictures of me with most of the friends I’ve lost to AIDS. I’ve had five-by-seven photos made that are up on my wall in a collage. It’s a place of honor. It’s really important for me to focus on them when I think of the MAI [mycobacterium avium intracellulare], the KS, the toxoplasmosis, and some of the really awful things that some of my buddies have had and had to deal with. Boy, I don’t have a problem in the world compared to what they went through. So I am grateful for the things that I don’t have and don’t have to deal with. At least not yet.
I’m not giving up. It may sound a little goofy, but I don’t want to jump right on the medical prescription bandwagon. I’ve opted not to go on AZT or DDI at this time. I don’t want to do that. I know it’s pretty toxic stuff. I know that everything is a trade-off, but at this point I just don’t want to put that stuff in my body. I am doing Zovirax, and I’m also eating bananas for neuropathy. But that’s about it. For now, I’m doing OK. If I were to have another major episode of something, I would probably reconsider, but I think I have some time.
I’ve also joined Test Positive Aware, a support group here in Chicago that’s been pretty significant to me. I very much like the “Ask the Doctor” nights that they have about once every five weeks. The question-and-answer periods are incredibly informative, and I’m always asking question. I also read a lot. I get Project Informed, Data, New York Native, and the TPA newsletter. I read the gay rags every week, not in a phobic way, but just because I want to be informed.
What do I miss most?
Having sex without rubbers. I really miss that.
What would I say to other people?
The most important thing is to listen to your body. That sounds awfully simplistic, probably, but I think it’s the thing that has worked most for me and for a couple of my friends. It tells me when I need to eat. It tells me when I need to rest. I get really tired now. When my friend was here from out of town, I took a nap twice a day for 15 or 20 minutes. I just lay down and did nothing but listen to my body. It may sound like voodoo, but it really does work.
What was my childhood ambition?
I wanted to be a king and live in a castle. Also, when I was 10, I wrote something called “My Ambition.” It was done on that old wide-line paper, and my penmanship was just horrible because I was just learning to write instead of print. Now, I have it up on my wall. Let me share it with you:
I would like to live in a very big house.
I want two butlers, two maids. I want a wife to share my life.
Well, I’ve changed some of that.
Bill Hanson, 47, is an administrative secretary. He was diagnosed with pneumocystis and AIDS on December 14, 1990. As of this writing, he is still working, still healthy, and still fighting.
Text: Voices That Care - Neal Hitchens
--
From an old book © 1992. I was looking through my books on the shelves and I remember reading this particular book way back when... I remember reading it for the first time, I just couldn't stop crying... some stories are very sad, but mostly the book is filled with stories of encouragement. AIDS happens to people on all walks of life. So much to say on the subject itself...
Some stories are hard to take in at times cuz you feel so much for the life of the individuals, everyone's affected by it one way or another... It's not an everyday book, but it's a good book. A firm reminder on whatever quality of condition that I'm in, I shall welcome my every day life with open arms.
April 06, 2004
The 13th Life
A coin spins, fatefully. From a synthesizer escapes a single errie note. It is vaporous at first, then more substantial, and finally piercingly poignant. The note falls then rises like a spectre in the mist. A startled woman runs towards centre stage, almost expiring with - what is it? Fear? Desire? "Mabuse!" she gasps, incredulous, her mouth and eyes wide, transfixed by something beyond language. Another female, calmly possessed, wonders aloud: "Why does it hurt when my heart misses the beat?"
Suddenly, there is an explosion of drums, followed by a series of chilling, lush synth-chords. From the wings emerges an enigmatic, hooded figure, all claws, fangs and sockets where eyes should be, freeze-drying the senses with the words, uttered in Euro-mangled English, "The man without shadow promises you the world. Tell him your dreams - and fanatical needs! He's buying them all. With cash..."
The scene is straight out of Fritz Lang, with all the diabolical dread of the original 'Nosferatu'. Tangibly intense yet perversely thrilling. Barely 40 seconds in and the world is a riot of black and white and blood red. By the time the Greek Chorus shrilly pleads, "Sell him your soul! Never look back!" you are entranced, spellbound by the ziggurat-beat, awed by the towering edifice of sound. It is a sound created by a group of musicians from Dusseldorf, and enhanced in a recording studio in West London by a magician called Horn...
...The exploitation of all possible sensations. Noise and girls come out to play. Sheer brutal beauty.
Text: Paul Lester; excerpts from Propaganda's Outside World
April 05, 2004
Souls Before the Creation of the Body
Know about the time when there were souls and no bodies.
This was a time of a few years, but each of those years was one of our millennia.
The souls were all arrayed in line. The world was presented to their sight. Nine out of ten of the souls ran towards it.
Then paradise was presented to the remaining souls. Out of these, nine out of ten ran towards it.
Then hell was shown to the remaining souls. Nine out of ten of them ran away from it in horror.
Then there were only a few souls, those who were affected by nothing at all. They had not been attracted by the earth or by paradise, nor had they feared hell.
The Celestial Voice spoke to these survivors, saying:
'Idiot souls, what is it that you want?'
The souls answered in unison:
'You who know all know that it is You whom we desire, and that we do not desire to leave Your Presence.'
The voice said to them:
'Desire of Us is perilous, causes hardship and innumerable perils.'
The souls answered him:
'We will gladly experience anything for the sake of being with You, and lose everything in order that we may gain everything.'
Text: Ilahi-Nama
April 01, 2004
The Cold Song II
What power art thou
Who from below
Hast made me rise
Unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow.
See'st thou not how stiff
And wondrous old
Far unfit to bear the bitter cold.
I can scarcely move
Or draw my breath
Let me, let me
Freeze again
Let me, let me
Freeze again to death.
Text: Henry Purcell
--
I was in bed already, but I always listen to CDs right before I fall asleep. Was listening to Klaus Nomi again, the Cold Genuis... his voice and music is bittersweet as ever... Playing The Cold Song again and again and again...
Tonight, I screenprinted my very own Nomi shirt...
March 26, 2004
A Post from the Present
Man, you enter the world reluctantly, crying, as a forlorn babe;
Man, you leave this life, deprived again, crying again,
with regret.
Therefore live this life in such a way that none of it
is really wasted.
You have to become accustomed to it after not having been accustomed to it.
When you have become accustomed to it, you will have to become used to being without it.
Mediate upon this contention.
Die, therefore, "before you die," in the words of the Purified One.
Complete the circle before it is completed for you.
Until you do, unless you have -- then expect bitterness at the end as there was in the beginning; in the middle as there will be at the end.
You did not see the pattern as you entered; and when you entered - you saw another pattern.
When you saw this apparent pattern, you were prevented from seeing the threads of the coming pattern.
Until you see both, you will be without contentment --
Whom do you blame? And Why do you blame?
Hashim the Sidqi, on Rumi
--
A previous entry from early last year, something I've been thinking about as of late. I think this is one of my all time favourite 'teaching'. Hard to egg-xplain, yet it's always nice to return to the same familiar place for a [re]visit. Kinda like moving and observing, by sitting still with closed eyes...
Yes, like the circle of life, and I hope you'll find it as much meaningful as I do.
March 23, 2004
HA HA HA!
A blonde goes into a world wide message center to send a message to her mother in Poland. When the man tells her it will be $300, she exclaims, "I don't have any money. But I would do anything to get a message to my mother in Poland."
To that the man asks, "Anything?" And the blonde says "Yes... anything!" With that, the man says "Follow me." He walks into the next room and tells her, "Come in and close the door." She does!!
He then says, "Get on your knees." She does.
He then says, "Take down my zipper." She does.
He then says, "Go ahead... Take it out." With that, she takes it out and takes hold of it with both hands.
The man then says, "Well. Go ahead!" She brings her mouth closer to it, and while holding it close to her lips she says, "Hello? Mom?"
--
Hehe... made me chuckle! O and check out these commercials... Ikea [1.1MB] and Maryland Cookies [3.8MB]... and this big-ass explosion happened in Las Vegas back in 1988... Just something to look at!
Yeah, nothing original tonight... hmm... and the girl from the Ikea commerical is a blonde... hee!
February 19, 2004
Revelations
Bless you for your anger,
It’s a sign of rising energy.
Transform the energy to versatility
and it will bring you prosperity
Bless you for your sorrow,
It’s a sign of vulnerability.
Transform the energy to sympathy
and it will bring you love
Bless you for your greed,
It’s a sign of great capacity.
Transform the energy to giving,
Give as much as you wish to take
and you will receive satisfaction
Bless you for your jealousy,
It’s a sign of empathy.
Transform the energy to admiration
And what you admire
will become part of your life
Bless you for your fear,
It’s a sign of wisdom.
Transform the energy to flexibility
and you will be free from what you fear
Bless you for your search of direction.
Transform the energy to receptivity
and the direction will come to you
Bless you for the times you see evil.
Evil feeds on your support. feed not and it will self-destruct.
Shed light and it will cease to be
Bless you for the times you feel no love.
Open your heart to life anyway
In time you will find love in you.
You are a sea of goodness,
You are a sea of love.
Bless you, bless you, bless you,
Bless you for what you are.
Count your blessings every day for they are your protection
Which stand between you and what you wish not.
Count your curses and there will be a wall
Which stand between you and what you wish.
The world has all that you need
You have the power to attract what you wish.
Wish for health, wish for joy,
Remember, you are loved.
The world has all that you need
And you have the power to attract what you wish.
Wish for health, wish for joy,
Remember, you are loved.
I love you...
Text: Yoko Ono
It's been almost a year! Time flies... Happy 71st Yoko! 02.18.1933
February 15, 2004
Respire
 |
Il faut que tu respires
Et ça c'est rien de le dire
Tu vas pas mourir de rire
Et ç'est pas rien de le dire
D'ici quelques années on aura bouffé la feuille
Et tes petits enfants ils n'auront plus qu'un oeil
En plein milieu du front ils te demanderont
Pourquoi toi t'en as deux tu passeras pour un con
Ils te diront comment t'as pu laisser faire ça
T'aura beau te défendre leur expliquer tout bas
C'est pas ma faute à moi c'est la faute aux anciens
Mais y'aura plus personne pour te laver les mains
Tu leur raconteras l'époque où tu pouvais
manger des fruits dans l'herbe allongé dans les prés
Y'avait des animaux partout dans la foret
Au début du printemps les oiseaux revenaient
Il faut que tu respires
Et ça c'est rien de le dire
Tu vas pas mourir de rire
Et ç'est pas rien de le dire
Il faut que tu respires
Et ça c'est rien de le dire
Tu vas pas mourir de rire
Et ç'est pas rien de le dire
Le pire dans cette histoire c'est qu'on est des esclaves
Quelquepart assassins ici bien incapables
De regarder les arbres sans se sentir coupable
A moitie défroqués 100% misérables
Alors voila petit l'histoire de l'être humain
C'est pas joli joli et je connais pas la fin
T'es pas né dans un choux mais plutot dans un trou
Qu'on remplit tous les jours comme une fosse à purin
Il faut que tu respires
Et ça c'est rien de le dire
Tu vas pas mourir de rire
Et ç'est pas rien de le dire
Text: Mickey 3D
I'm reposting. I just got their CD Tu Vas Pas Mourir De Rire in the mail yesterday. Caught my attention the first time about a year ago. Their videos Respire and the lull'ing sound of the accordian from Ma Grand-Mère [RealOne Player]. Breatheeee...
February 13, 2004
Carmen
Carmen tells me what she's done
Says she's having fun
Wants to be a mum
Copper hair and golden smile
Sparkles all the while
But life can be a trial
Carmen's in a world of pain
Don't cry now for yesterday
Baby's gone but she's okay
Carmen tells me where she's been
Nightmares that she's seen
Makes me want to scream
Hear the things that she's been through
Grey and black and blue
Life can be so cruel
Sit down here and take a drink
Tell me about everything
And he shrugs and then he winks again
Chocolate box and photograph
Life is hard and life is tough
Carmen smiles and then she laughs again
It's time we started heading home now
I've made mistakes along the way
It makes no sense but I'm okay now
It's happened again
I guess I'll live another day
Sit down here and take a drink
Tell me about everything
And he shrugs and then he winks again
Chocolate box and photograph
Life is hard and life is tough
Carmen smiles and then she laughs again
Bah-bah-bah-dah-bah-dah-dah
Bah-bah-bah-dah-bah-dah-dah
Bah-bah-bah-dah-bah-dah-dah...
Text: Anderson / Berenyi
Such a poppy tune! Though this song's made me cry a good few times... Listening to it again today - happysad. Such as life! mp3
"bah-bah-bah-dah-bah-dah-dah......"
February 12, 2004
I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend
Sitting here so close
Together
So far we're just friends
But I've been wondering whether
I, am just imagining
You, do you really have a thing for me?
Like I think I see
When I see you smile
And the smile's for me
I've gotta tell ya...
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Trying to say I wanna be your number one
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Gonna make you love me 'fore I'm done!
Late at night when I
When I can't sleep
Picture in my mind
I see you and me
I, am telling you what I wanna be
You, you say you are in love with me
You know, feels so good in a dream
that I know in life
It's just got to be
I've gotta tell ya...
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Trying to say I wanna be your number one
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Gonna make you love me 'fore I'm done
Gonna make you love me
Yeah I'm gonna make you love me
Yeah I'm gonna make you love me from now on...
I, am just imagining
You, do you really have a thing for me?
Like I think I see
When I see you smile
And the smile's for me
I've gotta tell ya...
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Trying to say I wanna be your number one
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Gonna make you love me 'fore I'm
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Hey, you! I wanna be your girlfriend
Gonna make you love me
Yeah, I'm gonna make you love me
Yeah, I'm gonna make you love me 'fore I'm done!!!
Text: Dunbar / Gargwer; covered by Lush
Couldn't resist, this one's for you Todd! heh... Not that I wanna be YOUR girlfriend [you prolly have guys lining 'round the block for you I bet], but it's just a fun song and thot that you might like a listen... Ah, the essence of bliss-pop! mp3 [3.9mb]
Hope everyone to have a sugar-coated Valentine's Day on the 14th! Sweetness & light....
I Have The Moon
We have walked in ancient times
And we've been burned for many crimes
We have ended many lives
But we never really died
You have the sun, I have the moon
You have to fly around the world all day
To keep the sun upon your face
I'd like to come and comfort you
But I'd be blinded by the blue
You have the sun, I have the moon
You're going to die under the sun
And I'll be doomed to carry on
You have become like other men
But let me kiss you once again
You have the sun, I have the moon
Text: Stephin Merritt; covered by Lush
It's a lovely tune... Eric, this one's for you! mp3 [4.5mb]
February 10, 2004
Margerine Rock
The beauty of this creature could only be equaled by
The extent of its paradox only be equaled by
Because it wanted two things
Opposite and conflicting
It wanted the light it wanted everything in sight
Wanted to dominate or at least to participate
But only in the comfort
Of its chair and its slippers
The curiosity of the extraordinary creatue
Was indeed limited because it could not suffer
The unknown in any shape or form
At the same time of wanting to look everywhere
Set up at the top of its tower
The creature reveled in being a spectator
Through the glass what a glorious view
Relishing the gift of so much transparence
Having had absolutely no influence
Text: Stereolab
February 07, 2004
I'd Like To Walk Around In Your Mind
I'd like to walk around in your mind some day
I'd like to walk all over the things you say to me
I'd like to run and jump on your solitude
I'd like to rearrange your attitude to me
You say you just want peace and you'd never hurt anyone
You see the end before the beginning is ever begun
I would disturb your lazy tranquility
I'd turn away the sad impossibility of your smile
I'd sit there hearing the sound of the things I like about you
I'd sing my songs and find out just what they mean to you
But most of all I'd like you to be unaware
And I'd just wander away trailing palm leaves behind me
So you don't even know that I've been there
Text: Unknown
January 16, 2004
Classic Moments
I know I've been talking about the late Anita Mui Yim-Fong a lot lately, I wasn't even a fan... I didn't know any of her songs prior to her parting, having only seen movies of hers here and there... Grieving, a person whom I've never met... a strange bit! Yet it's not her music or her movies...
I've been reading many articles about Anita since her death... That she lost her father when she was very young. After that, at the age of 4, she and her sister had to perform at this local run-down theme park [yeah, I've been there when I was just a wee boy! My dad used to take me, and 'run-down' is an understatement!] to earn additional income for the family. When she won her singing contest in the 80's, she wasn't an overnight sensation either... it was years later that she finally got the attention and the support from the public! In the late 80's, she starred in Rouge, her most well-known film to date, partnered [in many films together] with the late Leslie Cheung, whom also died in 2003, April. Leslie was one of her one true friend.
She discovered her terminal condition less than 2 years ago before her death. She underwent Western and Eastern cancer treatment and doctors also told her that she must have a hysterectomy... She refused because she was still thinking of getting married, and eventually, having children... a family of her own. That might've been a 'stupid' mistake to most people, but she listened to her own voice, stood by it, and that's what mattered to her. Anita was a strong woman 'til the very end, a woman of bravery and integrity, a woman of chance... She was also famous for contributing and making donations to numerous charity organizations.
So I got her Anita Classic Moment Live CD set the other day, and I've been listening to it ever since. It was an 8-day run concert held in November of 2003; 2 months after she made public about her illness, and a month before she passed. People didn't think she could do it, but she proved to them and to herself, that she did. What she said during the concert [inbetween songs] really made an impression on me [they were actual tracks on the CDs, I've made translation below for 3 of the tracks, gosh I'm such a cheese-ball!!!]... Anyway, maybe this will be my last entry about Anita...
Anita & Leslie, may you both find each other in heaven, again...
Spoken words from CD:
/////
...In the past few months, many things have happened... I just realised, life is melancholy, yet ironic... whether if it's my own personal business or the SARS incident in HK, many, many questions have been asked yet unanswered... Also the last few months I've lost my [few] only true friends... I've been very sad and somber... I asked and I asked myself again: "Am I going to go on... like this?" If my friends now knew the answer, they would be heartbroken... even for my friends who have past on, I think they wouldn't want to see me this way...
That's why, I tell myself - I live to live, no matter... whatever happens tomorrow, I have to work hard on whatever I do today... with full vigour, no matter how difficult, to face my tomorrow... I want to make this concert a lengthy one, probably because I feel a need to 'push myself to the limit', and I think everyone needs this hope and drive to go on... We can't tell people that we just give up, on what we have, on this lifetime, because it was given to us by the 'sky-above'... I hope you all will like the songs I picked out for you all in the next set, to see if they're appropriate, and to your liking...
/////
...It's been a pleasure and an honour to be a singer/entertainer, especially when I feel the love and the support from all my fans, I feel very happy and content... Yet now, I don't see our relationship as simply being 'a performer and her fans', right now, I see you all as my very good 'old friends'... Because I think we've known each other for more than a decade now, or else I wouldn't have called you all - my dear 'old friends'... That's why the next song, is truly for all my very good, very good, very good fans... for you all, my "old friends" [in English]...
/////
...[The last act, Anita came out in a wedding dress] Thank you everyone... Do I look pretty in a wedding gown? [audience cheered!] I've always been a singer, though I'm also an actor, wearing a wedding gown tonight isn't my first time, but not a single time I wore it for myself... Maybe this is my only regret in life... but I have my love from all of you, and you all have been here to fill this void... I'm very blessed, for I am married to my music, and I am married to my fans...
This is my last song, to give to you all... I feel that everyday, that the sunrise and sunset are so beautiful... yet fleeting... we should truly treasure what we have today, what's around us, right now... or else, in a heartbeat, everything is gone...
Images: Top picture from Ming Pao Weekly, HK; Anita Classic Moment Live CD insert
January 13, 2004
To Whom Should I Write
Where are you now
Have you travelled too far
And how are your dreams
Have you got what you need
And whom do you smile on
Did you walk out the line
Did you take what you wanted
Did you take what was right
And whom do you fly with
When you break out the day
Whom do you cry with
Whose wings do you steal
To whom should I write
Whose smile do you ride on
When you're walking alone
And who do you think of
When the night is your home
Is there nothing that breaks you
No thought for the dead
And whom should I think of
When closing the door
Yeah whom should I think of
Which smile should I ride
To whom should I write
Text: Neil Halstead
January 07, 2004
January 06, 2004
As We Could Ever
I think sometimes, sometimes I think
If only could we...
And reasons exist for reasons unknown
Where were wild things were once
If what you give is what you have
Then what you have to give
Is everything of what we share
Of all we need to live
Within one way, this way is mine
We spent a day beside
Came up out her eyes it's turning inside
Coughed up a swallow
If what you share is what you have
Then what you have to share
Is anything as real as dreams
And still afraid to dare
A given is taken, stay hidden inside
Text: Warren Defever
November 24, 2003
Where Is My Mind
 |
Reading the article and seeing the photos [taken by Stanmeyer] today, gave me a sense of hopelessness no doubt. Many won't be celebrating the holidays.
It really makes you wonder...
Image: John Stanmeyer
November 11, 2003
Caravan of Dreams
In one of the best tales of the Arabian Nights, Maruf the Cobbler found himself daydreaming his own fabulous caravan of riches.
Destitute and almost friendless in an alien land, Maruf at first mentally conceived -- and then described -- an unbelievably valuable cargo on its way to him.
Instead of leading to exposure and disgrace, this idea was the foundation of his eventual success. The imagined caravan took shape, became real for a time -- and arrived.
May your caravan of dreams, too, find its way to you.
Text: Idries Shah - Caravan of Dreams [Preface]
November 10, 2003
Downer
In me you'll see
Dirt flows freely
But you may find
That my thoughts are unkind
Pure life needs knife
Cuts off my life
But as you see
Hurting you you bless me
I always wanted to cry
After the act
Close my eyes
I always longed for the deep
Then I just wanted to sleep
Blood stream cruel dream
Never make clean
Down by my side I feel safe when I hide
So can you see that the thought are for me
Text: Emma Anderson
September 08, 2003
Lost: One Donkey
'O People!' shouted Nasrudin, running through the streets of his village, 'Know that I have lost my donkey. Anyone who brings it back will be given the donkey as a reward!'
'You must be mad,' said some spectators to this strange event.
'Not at all,' said Nasrudin; 'do you not know that the pleasure which you get when you find something lost is greater than the joy of possessing it?'
Text: Idries Shah - Caravan of Dreams
Music: Brian Eno - Discreet Music
September 02, 2003
I Am Thankful...
For the wife who says it's hot dogs tonight because she is home with me, not with someone else.
For the husband who is on the sofa, who's being a couch potato because he is home with me, and not out at the bars.
For the teenager who is complaining about doing dishes, because that means she is at home, not on the streets.
For the taxes that I pay, because it means that I am employed.
For the mess to clean after a party, because it means that I have been surrounded by friends.
For the clothes that fit a little too tight, because it means I have enough to eat.
For my shadow that watches me work, because it means I am out in the sunshine.
For a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing, because it means I have a home.
For all the complaining I hear about the government, because it means that we have Freedom of Speech.
For the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking and that I have been blessed with transportation.
For my huge heating bill, because it means I am warm.
For the lady behind me in church that sings off key, because it means that I can hear.
For the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means I have clothes to wear.
For weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day, because it means that I have been capable of working hard.
For the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours, because it means that I am alive.
Text: Unknown; Sent via email from my friend Michael Pacina
August 25, 2003
Cooking the Cabbage
Two thieves met one day in the Land of Fools.
As with all people of the same profession, they started to boast of their exploits.
One of the thieves said:
'I once stole a cabbage as big as a house!'
The other said:
'I once stole a saucepan as big as a palace.'
The first thief said:
'What would anyone want a thing like that for?'
Said the second thief:
'It was needed to cook your cabbage in!'
Text: Idries Shah - The Dermis Probe
July 22, 2003
To Bridget
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to sing.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to meet.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to live.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to dream.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to see.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to meet.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to live.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to fly.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to live.
Remember love, remember love,
Love is what it takes to fly.
Remember love, remember love.
Love -
Remember love.
Love -
Love.
Remember Love; lyrics by Yoko Ono
July 21, 2003
The Dance
 |
"This thing I'm telling you about,
I saw with my own eyes,
behind my window of hell
I clenched my teeth
and watched the town of Bardez turn
into a heap of ashes.
The corpses were piled high as trees,
and from the springs,
from the streams and the road,
the blood was a stubborn murmur,
and still calls revenge in my ear.
Don't be afraid;
I must tell you what I saw,
so people will understand
the crimes men do to men.
For two days, by the road to the graveyard...
Let the hearts of the world understand.
It was Sunday morning,
the first useless Sunday dawning on the corpses.
From down to dusk I had been in my room
with a stabbed woman -
my tears wetting her death -
when I heard from afar
a dark crown standing in a vineyard
lashing twenty brides
and singing filthy songs.
Leaving the half-dead girl on the straw mattress,
I went to the balcony of my window
and the crowd seemed to thicken like a clump of trees.
An animal of a man shouted,
"You must dance,
dance when our drum beats."
With fury whips cracked
on the flesh of these women.
Hand in hand the brides began their circle dance.
Now, I envied my wounded neighbor
because with a calm snore she cursed
the universe and gave up her soul to the stars...
"Dance," they raved,
"dance till you die, infidel beauties
with your flapping tits, dance!
Smile for us. You're abandoned now,
you're naked slaves,
so dance like a bunch of fuckin' sluts.
We're hot for your dead bodies."
Twenty graceful brides collapsed.
"Get up," the crowd screamed,
brandishing their swords.
Then someone brought a jug of kerosene.
Human justice, I spit in your face.
The brides were anointed.
"Dance," they thundered -
"here's a fragrance you can't get in Arabia."
With a torch, they set
the naked brides on fire.
And the charred bodies rolled
and tumbled to their deaths...
I slammed my shutters,
sat down next to my dead girl and asked:
"How can I dig out my eyes?"
Text: Siamanto (Atom Yarjanian)
English translation: Peter Balakian and Nevart Yaghlian
Performed by Diamanda Galás - Defixiones, Will and Testament
July 19, 2003
Orders From The Dead
 |
July 09, 2003
The Cold Song
What power art thou
Who from below
Hast made me rise
Unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow.
See'st thou not how stiff
And wondrous old
Far unfit to bear the bitter cold.
I can scarcely move
Or draw my breath
Let me, let me
Freeze again
Let me, let me
Freeze again to death.
Text: Henry Purcell
July 02, 2003
Lied Vom Kindsein
| Lied Vom Kindsein
Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, Als das Kind Kind war, -- Song of Childhood When the child was a child When the child was a child, When the child was a child, When the child was a child, When the child was a child, When the child was a child, It had visualized a clear image of Paradise, When the child was a child, When the child was a child, When the child was a child, When the child was a child, |
June 17, 2003
Positive Side of Life
Living on Earth is expensive,
but it does include a free trip
around the sun every year.
How long a minute is depends on
what side of the bathroom door you're on.
Birthdays are good for you;
the more you have, the longer you live.
Happiness comes through doors
you didn't even know you left open.
Ever notice that the people who are late
often much jollier than the people
who have to wait for them?
Most of us go to our grave
with our music still inside of us.
If Wal-Mart is lowering prices every day,
how come nothing is free yet?
You may be only one person in the world,
but you may also be the world to one person.
Some mistakes are too much fun
to only make once.
Don't cry because it's over;
smile because it happened.
We could learn a lot from crayons:
some are sharp, some are pretty,
some are dull, some have weird names,
and all are different colors... but
they all exist very nicely in the same box.
A truly happy person is one who can
enjoy the scenery on a detour.
Have an awesome day,
and know that someone
who thinks you're great
has thought about you today!
Text: An email from my friend Lori Thanks sweet!
June 11, 2003
The Tale of the Sands
A stream, from its source in far-off mountains, passing through every kind and description of countryside, at last reached the sands of the desert. Just as it had crossed every other barrier, the stream tried to cross this one, but it found that as fast as it ran into the sand, the waters disappeared.
It was convinced, however, that its destiny was to cross this desert, and yet there was no way. Now a hidden voice, coming from the desert itself, whispered: ‘The Wind crosses the desert, and so can the stream.’
The stream objected that it was dashing itself against the sand, and only getting absorbed: that the wind could fly, and this was why it could cross a desert.
‘By hurtling in your own accustomed way you cannot get across. You will either disappear or become a marsh. You must allow the wind to carry you over, to your destination.’
But how could this happen? ‘By allowing yourself to be absorbed in the wind.’
This idea was not acceptable to the stream. After all, it had never been absorbed before. It did not want to lose its individuality. And, once having lost it, how was one to know that it could ever be regained?
‘The wind’, said the sand, ‘performs this function. It takes up water, carries it over the desert, and then lets it fall again. Falling as rain, the water again becomes a river.’
‘How can I know that this is true?’
‘It is so, and if you do not believe it, you cannot become more than a quagmire, and even that could take many, many years; and it certainly is not the same as a stream.’
‘But can I not remain the same stream that I am today?’
‘You cannot in either case remain so,’ the whisper said. ‘Your essential part is carried away and forms a stream again. You are called what you are even today because you do not know which part of you is the essential one.’
When he heard this, certain echoes began to arise in the thoughts of the stream. Dimly, he remembered a state in which he – or some part of him, was it? – had been held in the arms of a wind. He also remembered – or did he? – that this was the real thing, not necessarily the obvious thing, to do.
And the stream raised his vapour into the welcoming arms of the wind, which gently and easily bore it upwards and along, letting it fall softly as soon as they reached the roof of a mountain, many, many miles away. And because he had had his doubts, the steam was able to remember and record more strongly in his mind the details of his experience. He reflected, ‘Yes, now I have learned my true identity.’
The stream was learning, but the sands whispered: ‘We know, because we see it happen day after day: and because we, the sands, extend from the riverside all the way to the mountains.’
And that is why it is said that the way in which the Stream of Life is to continue on its journey is written in the Sands.
Text: Idries Shah - Tales of the Dervishes
June 04, 2003
Life and Disappointment
Seeing an old lady of evident serenity and knowledge sitting opposite me on a train, I leant forward and asked her:
'What wisdom can you pass on to me?'
She said:
'Young man, all I have got to say is that life has been a great disappointment to me!'
Text: Idries Shah - Reflections
-----
May 23, 2003
Delights to a Visit to Hell
A man once thought:
‘How I wish I could be master of the option, to be dead or alive, so that I might know what it was like to be dead!’
This idea so dominated his mind that he sought out a dervish and enrolled himself as his pupil. When, after many months, he judged the moment suitable, he said to his teacher:
‘Reverend Sir, I have for years desired one thing: to be able to be alive or dead, as I wished. This is because I find it difficult to visualize what it would be like to be in that condition. Would you make it possible for me to achieve it?’
The dervish said:
‘It would not help you at all.’
‘I am sure that all experience is useful,’ said the man. And he continued to plague the dervish, until he agreed.
‘Very well,’ said the dervish, ‘adopt these special exercises, and you will be able to enter the domain of death and return at your own desire.’
The man performed his exercises until he had perfected them, and when he felt that he was ready, he threw himself into the condition which is generally considered to be death.
He found himself disembodied and waiting at the exit-door of life.
A subtle form in the shape of a man came up to him, and said: ‘What is your desire?’
‘As I am now dead,’ said the man, ‘I would like to see Heaven and Hell, so that I may be able to understand the advantages and disadvantages of each.’
‘Certainly,’ said the angel, ‘and which would you like to visit first?’
‘Heaven,’ said the man.
The angel took him to a place where people were walking about surrounded by every luxury and dressed in beautiful garments, eating precious fruits. They were all undoubtedly beings of the greatest purity and honesty, but the visitor felt that there was not enough variety in their life for him.
He said to his guide: ‘Please may I now see Hell?’
‘By all means,’ answered the angel, and took him to another place.
Here he saw people reveling and romping, laughing and crying, making and breaking friendships, building houses and destroying them, and living a remarkably similar life to the one which we all know on Earth.
But Hell seemed to have distinct advantages. It was more interesting than Heaven, and there were opportunities for personal gain evident to the visitor, which had not yet been observed by the inhabitants, and which far exceeded those open to people on Earth.
He said to his guide: ‘As I am master of the option of living or dying, I think that I will now settle down in Hell. Can you arrange it for me?’
‘Nothing easier,’ said the angel, ‘providing that you will change permanently from the status of a visitor to that of a resident.’
The man affirmed that he indeed wished to remain in Hell for all time.
Then the angel knocked on a door, and two massive demons of frightful aspect appeared. ‘Take him away,’ said the angel, ‘for he has decided to join you.’
The demons seized the man, and crushing him in gigantic talons, began to bear him off towards a furnace.
‘Stop!’ cried the man, and he appealed to the angel:
‘If this is Hell, what was that place which you showed me saying that it was Hell, when it was not?’
‘That,’ said the angel, ‘is not the Hell for the permanent residents. It is the one which is shown to visitors.’
Text: Idries Shah - Reflections
May 21, 2003
Excerpt
No man is your enemy: no man is your friend. All alike are your teachers. Your enemy becomes a mystery that must be solved, even though it takes ages; for man must be understood. Your friend becomes a part of yourself, an extension of yourself, a riddle hard to read. Only one thing is more difficult to know – your own heart. Not until the bonds of personality are loosed, can that profound mystery of self begin to be seen. Then, and not till then, can you use all its powers, and devote them to a worthy service.
Remember that the sin and shame of the world are your sin and shame for you are a part of it. The soiled garment you shrink from touching may have been yours yesterday, may be yours tomorrow. Therefore be wary lest too soon you fancy yourself something apart from the mass.
Within you is the light of the world – the only light that can be shed upon the Path. If you are unable to perceive it within you, it is useless to look for it elsewhere.
Text: Written down by Mabel Collins - Light On The Path / Through The Gates of Gold
May 17, 2003
Improvement
If you want to make an ordinary man happy, or think that he is happy, give him money, power, flattery, gifts, honours.
If you want to make a wise man happy -- improve yourself!
Text: Idries Shah - Reflections
May 16, 2003
Seul
Seul debout. Seul assis. Seul couché. Seul sur le gril. Seul écartelé par des chevaux de labour dont il ne voyait que les croupes. Seul pendu et son sperme devint mandragore. Seul dans la vitesse qui n'est pas, dans la minute qui n'est pas, dans l'espace qui n'est pas, dans le temps qui n'est pas, dans l'éternité qui n'est pas, dans le rien qui ne l'est pas, dans le vide plein de boue. Seul dans un bloc de quartz ignoble, dans un iceberg en voyage. Seul avec la solitude qui n'en est pas une. Avec la lune qui fut sans être. Avec ses pas qui n'en sont pas. Avec ce tison qui se croûte et qui brûle au milieu et se croûte et brûle dans un songe qui n'est même pas un songe. Seul avec le sommeil de condamné à mort.
Text: Jean Cocteau - Appogiatures
May 10, 2003
Encounter with the Devil
A certain devout man, convinced that he was a sincere Seeker after Truth, embarked upon a long course of discipline and study.
He had many experiences, under various teachers both in his inner and outer life, over a considerable period of time.
One day he was meditating when he suddenly saw the Devil sitting beside him.
‘Away, demon!’ he cried, ‘for you have no power to harm me; I am treading the Path of the Elect.’
The apparition disappeared.
A truly wise man passing by told him, sadly:
‘Alas, my friend, you have grafted effort upon such an unsure basis as your unaltered fear, greed, and self-esteem that you have arrived at your ultimate possible experience.’
‘How so?’ asked the Seeker.
‘That “devil” is, in reality, an angel. “Devil” is only how you saw him.’
Text: Idries Shah - Caravan of Dreams
May 08, 2003
The HEART
| To retain its perfect freshness, keep the HEART dry. UNLIKE similar products, the HEART WILL EXPAND WHILE DRYING OUT. All actions performed with the HEART are therefore definitive.
PREPARATION OF SENTIMENTS: To one measure of delirium, add 2 1/2 measures of HEART. Stir until a sentimental solution forms. Allow to stand for one night. While you sleep, the sentiment will take on the desired consistency (creamy, oily or malleable). Do not prepare more HEART than you can use immediately, since even in a short space of time it tends to cling. IMPORTANT: The HEART acts like a cement, so delirium must never be added to previously prepared sentiment, nor should it be 'dwelt on' too long. The HEART hardens in two hours. Increase the dosage of HEART in the first few seconds if you desire a sentiment with a firmer consistency. The HEART casts a self-satisfied glow over generous When applied to meaner personalities however (especially if allowed to penetrate the whole being) it tends to be dissipated throughout the pores and becomes totally transparent. It's called the HEART. |
May 05, 2003
When A Man Meets Himself
One of man's greatest difficulties is also his most obvious drawback. It could be corrected if anyone troubled himself to point it out often and cogently enough.
It is the difficulty that man is describing himself when he thinks that he is describing others.
How often do you hear people say, about me:
'I regard this man as the Qutub [magnetic Pole] of the Age?'
He means, of course: 'I regard this man...'
He is describing his own feelings or convictions, when what we might want to know is something about the person or thing being described.
When he says: 'This teaching is sublime,' he means: 'This appears to suit me.' But we might have wanted to know something about the teaching, not how he thinks it influences him.
Some people say: 'But a thing can truly be known by its effect. Why not observe the effect upon a person?'
Most people do not understand that the effect of, say, sunlight on trees is something constant. In order to know the nature of the teaching, we would have to know the nature of the person upon whom it has acted. The ordinary person cannot know this: all he can know is what that person assumes to be an effect upon himself - and he has no coherent picture of what 'himself' is. Since the outward observer knows even less than the person describing himself, we are left with quite useless evidence. We have no reliable witness.
Remember, that while this situation still obtains, there will generally be an equal number of people saying: 'This is marvellous,' as are saying: 'This is ridiculous'. 'This is ridiculous' really means:' This appears ridiculous to me,' and 'this is marvellous' means: 'This appears marvellous to me.'
Do you really enjoy being like that?
Many people do, while energetically pretending otherwise.
Would you like to be able to test what really is ridiculous or marvellous, or anything in between?
You can do it, but not when you presume that you can do it without any practice, without any training, in the midst of being quite uncertain as to what it is you are and why you like or dislike anything.
When you have found yourself you can have knowledge. Until then you can only have opinions. Opinions are based on habit and what you conceive to be convenient to you.
The study of the Way requires self-encounter along the way. You have not met yourself yet. The only advantage of meeting others in the meantime is that one of them may present you to yourself.
Before you do that, you will possibly imagine that you have met yourself many times. But the truth is that when you do meet yourself, you come into a permanent endowment and bequest of knowledge that is like no other experience on earth.
| (Tariqavi) |
Text: Idries Shah - Wisdom of the Idiots
May 01, 2003
The Game of DEATH
| Its combination of instantaneous and eternal action ensures that DEATH is absolutely harmless to man or mammals. DEATH DOES NOT STAIN DIRECTIONS For heart complaints: Use DEATH center-stage. For gambling debts, dishonour, tedium vitae etc.: For mystical ecstasy: Use DEATH having placed yourself approximately one metre from clothing, curtains, carpets. DEATH can be used in wardrobes and wall-cupboards. DEATH is recommended in Spring, from April onwards. DEATH IS GOOD FOR YOU. NON-TOXIC. |
April 29, 2003
Homage to René Magritte
When Magritte died
The stones fell to the ground
The birds divorced their leaves
The night and day agreed to differ
The breasts became blind
The cunt was struck dumb
The tubas extinguished their flames
The pipe remembered its role
The words looked up what they meant in the dictionary
The clouds turned abstract
The ham closed its eye for ever
When Magritte died.
When Magritte died
The toes hid modestly in their shoes
The mountains no longer envied their eagles
The apple shrunk to the size of an apple
Or did the room grow to the size of a room?
The bowler hat lost its ability to astonish
The old healer
Returned from a dip in the sea
Put on his trousers
his boots
his cloak
his hat
Picked up his stick
his sack
his cage of doves [clanging its door to]
And set off on his banal journey
When Magritte died.
 |
Music: Caetano Veloso - Cucurrucucú Paloma [live]
March 30, 2003
Geek The Girl
Hi, this is the story of geek the girl, a girl who is confused about how to be sexual and cool in the world but finds out she isn't cool and gets constantly taken advantage of sexually, gets kind of sick and enjoys giving up but at the end still tries to believe in something beautiful and dreams of still loving a man in hopes that he can save her from her shit life.......... ha ha ha what a geek!
Music: Lisa Germano - Cancer Of Everything
March 27, 2003
Paradise of Song
Ahangar was a mighty swordsmith who lived in one of Afghanistan's remote eastern valleys. In time of peace he made steel ploughs, shoed horses and, above all, he sang.
The songs of Ahangar, who is known by different names in various parts of Central Asia, were eagerly listened to by the people of the valleys. They came from the forests of giant walnuts trees, from the snowcapped Hindu-Kush, from Qataghan and Badakhshan, from Khanabad and Kunar, from Herat and Paghman, to hear his songs.
Above all, the people came to hear the song of all songs, which was Ahangar's Song of the Valley of Paradise.
This song had a haunting quality, and a strange lilt, and most of all it had a story which was so strange that people felt they knew the remote Valley of Paradise of which the smith sang. Often they asked him to sing it when he was not in the mood to do so, and he would refuse. Sometimes people asked him whether the Valley was truly real, and Ahangar could only say:
"The Valley of the Song is as real as real can be."
"But how do you know?" the people would ask, "Have you ever been there?"
To Ahangar, and to nearly all the people who heard him, the Valley of the Song was, however, real, real as real can be.
Aisha, a local maiden whom he loved, doubted whether there was such a place. So, too, did Hasan, a braggart and fearsome swordsman who swore to marry Aisha, and who lost no opportunity of laughing at the smith.
One day, when the villagers were sitting around silently after Ahangar had been telling his tale to them, Hasan spoke:
"If you believe that this valley is so real, and that it is, as you say, in those mountains of Sangan yonder, where the blue haze rises, why do you not try to find it?"
"It would not be right, I know that," said Ahangar.
"You know what it is convenient to know, and do not know what you do not want to know!" shouted Hasan. "Now, my friend, I propose a test. You love Aisha, but she does not trust you. She has no faith in this absurd Valley of yours. You could never marry her, because when there is no confidence between man and wife, they are not happy and all manner of evils result."
"Do you expect me to go to the valley, then?" asked Ahangar.
"Yes," said Hasan and all the audience together.
"If I go and return safely, will Aisha consent to marry me?" asked Ahangar.
"Yes," murmured Aisha.
So Ahangar, collecting some dried mulberries and a scrap of bread, set off for the distant mountains.
He climbed and climbed, until he came to a wall which encircled the entire range. When he had ascended its sheer sides, there was another wall, even more precipitous then the first. After that there was a third, then a fourth, and finally a fifth wall.
Descending on the other side, Ahangar found that he was in a valley, strikingly similar to his own.
People came out to welcome him, and as he saw them, Ahangar realized that something very strange was happening.
Months later, Ahangar the Smith, walking like an old man, limped into his native village, and made for his humble hut.
As word of his return spread throughout the countryside, people gathered in front of his home to hear what his adventures had been.
Hasan the swordsman spoke for them all, and called Ahangar to his window.
There was a gasp as everyone saw how old he had become.
"Well, Master Ahangar, and did you reach the Valley of Paradise?"
"I did."
"And what was it like?"
Ahangar, fumbling for his words, looked at the assembled people with a weariness and hopelessness that he had never felt before. He said:
"I climbed and I climbed, and I climbed. When it seemed as though there could be no human habitation in such a desolate place, and after many trials and disappointments, I came upon a valley. This valley was exactly like the one in which we live. And then I saw the people. Those people are not only like us people: they are the same people. For every Hasan, every Aisha, every Ahangar, every anybody whom we have here, there is another one, exactly the same in that valley."
"These are likenesses and reflections to us, when we see such things. But it is we who are the likeness and reflection of them--we who are here, we are their twins..."
Everyone thought that Ahangar had gone mad through his privations, and Aisha married Hasan the swordsman. Ahangar rapidly grew old and died. And all the people, every one who had heard this story from the lips of Ahangar, first lost heart in their lives, then grew old and died, for they felt that something was going to happen over which they had no control and from which they had no hope, and so they lost interest in life itself.
It is only once in a thousand years that this secret is seen by man. When he sees it, he is changed. When he tells its bare facts to others, they wither and die out.
People think that such an event is a catastrophe, and so they must not know about it, for they cannot understand [such is the nature of their ordinary life] that they have more selves than one, more hopes than one, more chances than one--up there, in the Paradise of the Song of Ahangar, the mighty smith.
Text: Idries Shah - Wisdom of the Idiots
Music: Budd, Fraser, Guthrie & Raymonde - Sea, Swallow Me
March 25, 2003
The Faithful Wish
One day a simpleton threw a coin down a wishing well. He wished for another coin. Later, as he walked upon the road, he found a coin.
The next day the man again threw a coin into the well, wished for a coin, and found a coin upon the road. This continued for several days and always the man wished for a coin, found a coin, and used it to wish for another.
At the end of a week the man cast two coins into the wishing well.
'I won't be able to come here tomorrow,' he explained.
Text: Thomas Wiloch - Tales of Lord Shantih
March 02, 2003
This, Too, Will Pass
A powerful king, ruler of many domains, was in a position of such magnificence that wise men were his mere employees. And yet one day he felt himself confused and called the sages to him.
He said:
"I do not know the cause, but something impels me to seek a certain ring, one that will enable me to stabilize my state."
"I must have such a ring. And this ring must be one which, when I am unhappy, will make me joyful. At the same time, if I am happy and look upon it, I must be made sad."
The wise men consulted one another, and threw themselves into deep contemplation, and finally they came to a decision as to the character of this ring which would suit their king.
The ring which they divised was one upon which was inscribed the legend:
THIS, TOO, WILL PASS
Text: Idries Shah - The Way of the Sufi
February 27, 2003
Men Strike Back
How many men does it take to open a beer?
None. It should be opened by the time she brings it.
Why is a laundromat a really bad place to pick up a woman?
Because a woman who can't even afford a washing machine will probably never be able to support you.
Why do women have smaller feet than men?
It's one of those "evolutionary things" that allows them to stand closer to the kitchen sink.
How do you know when a woman is about to say something smart?
When she starts her sentence with "A man once told me..."
How do you fix a woman's watch?
You don't. There is a clock on the oven.
Why do men break wind more than women?
Because women can't shut up long enough to build up the required pressure.
If your dog is barking at the back door and your wife is yelling at the front door, who do you let in first?
The dog, of course. He'll shut up once you let him in.
What's worse than a Male Chauvinist Pig?
A woman who won't do what she's told.
I married Miss Right.
I just didn't know her first name was Always.
Scientists have discovered a food that diminishes a woman's sex drive by 90%.
It's called a Wedding Cake.
Why do men die before their wives?
They want to.
In the beginning, God created the earth and rested.
Then God created Man and rested.
Then God created Woman.
Since then, neither God nor Man has rested.
--
Hahaha... ha... uh, wait... am I gonna get hate mail for this? But my defense is that, a WOMAN sent it to me! hee! Thanks Gina.
February 09, 2003
True / False : Part II
Paper is marble cut so thin that it has become soft. [Make marble out of toilet paper.]
Plastic is a portion of sky cut out in solid form. [Collect many pieces of plastic and look through them to see if they look blue.]
If you wear a clothes long enough it becomes part of you and you will suffer from serious physical maladjustment when you take if off. A princess died from taking off vines that had covered her for ten years. A prince, when his encircling vines were removed, was found to be non-existent.
When you leave things, you leave your spirit behind, too. But if you don't lave them, you age.
Your brother is the man you killed in the past world. He was born in your family because he wanted to be near you.
There is a wish man in the corner of the world whose daily task is to send good-will waves to the world to clear the air.
Men used to walk on hands upside down, but they changed to the present form because it was considered less obscene.
99 per cent of the world is dead bodies and tombs. We are the remaining 1 per cent... [or are we?].
There are one thousand suns arising every day. We only see one of them because of our fixation on monistic thinking.
Piano keys are flower-petals turned hard.
People who bought Ono's "bagwear" invariably encountered fantastic good luck and fortune. -ad.
A cloud consists of the following substances: colour, music, smell, sleep and water. Sometimes it rains substances other than water, but very few people notice it.
Text: Grapefruit - Yoko Ono
February 03, 2003
True / False : Part I
The sixth finger is usually not used because its existence is not physically perceivable.
There is a transparent peace tower in New York City which casts no shadow and, therefore, very rarely recognized.
Blood is not red unless exposed, and blue when it's imagined.
The structure of the American jury system is taken from the chance music operation by John Cage. [The noted Judge Connolly is said to have said "all verdicts are beautiful".]
Mt. Fuji, whose colour is blue and white from the distance and volcano red when you go near, is a carefully planned modern Japanese project built to attract American tourists.
The East Side is not a word to define its location but was originally a name of the town "The Wise East on the Wrong Side." Later it was shortened to the presently known "The East Side".
Your weight is twice mine, and height 5 inches shorter.
Grapefruit is a hybrid of lemon and orange. Snow is a hybrid of wish and lament.
All fruits are related species of banana, which was the first fruit in existence. The Bible lied about the apple because they felt mentioning the word banana too undignified.
Roaches are moving forms of flowers, though visually they seem unconnected.
Happenings were first invented by Greek gods.
The word "manila envelope" comes from a deeply-rooted racial prejudice.
Coughing is a form of love.
All streets are invisible. The visible ones are fake ones, though some visible ones are the end parts of the invisible ones.
Teeth and bones are solid form of cloud.
Text: Grapefruit - Yoko Ono
January 29, 2003
On Entering, Living in, Leaving the World
Man, you enter the world reluctantly, crying, as a forlorn babe;
Man, you leave this life, deprived again, crying again, with regret.
Therefore live this life in such a way that none of it is really wasted.
You have to become accustomed to it after not having been accustomed to it.
When you have become accustomed to it, you will have to become used to being without it.
Mediate upon this contention.
Die, therefore, "before you die," in the words of the Purified One.
Complete the circle before it is completed for you.
Until you do, unless you have--then expect bitterness at the end as there was in the beginning;
in the middle as there will be at the end.
You did not see the pattern as you entered; and when you entered - you saw another pattern.
When you saw this apparent pattern, you were prevented from seeing the threads of the coming pattern.
Until you see both, you will be without contentment--
Whom do you blame? And Why do you blame?
--Hashim the Sidqi, on Rumi