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Topics - Bebek Sincap Ratatosk

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76
Literate Chaotic / Inspired By a Post on "Convert Me" - A Poem
« on: June 07, 2007, 09:55:02 pm »
Inspired By a Post on "Convert Me"

"I want a religion that likes what I like,
and thinks how I think,
when I pray late at night.
I want a religion that doesn't have rules,
unless it's about those
whom I think are fools."

"I'll put my faith in a Custom Made God,
I'll 'have it my way',
though some think it odd.
I'll find the Truth lit by my own damned light,
I'll believe in a God
who thinks that I'm right!"

And so goes the sound of the monkeys that talk,
'tis barely better than the sheep that all walk,
down pews to the alter to get saved again,
while they "love", curse and damn their poor fellow men.

But it misses the key, it misses the gate,
it misses the thought which all love to hate.
For it's not all that logical,
nor soundeth it wise.
But you are reading this poem
through your God's eyes.

Who created what you see, what you hear, what you smell?
Who created your thoughts or the words that you tell?
Who makes the grass green? Who makes the sky blue?
Who translates the data?

Your God... (which is You).


Ratatosk, Squirrel of Discord
Chatterer of the Words of Eris
Muncher of The ChaoAcorn
POEE of the Great Googlie Mooglie Cabal

77
Literate Chaotic / A Proud Parent
« on: June 07, 2007, 09:47:21 pm »
(I worte this last year, but my amusement at the general posts here made me think it appropriate)

I wonder what she'd say,
if she happened by today,
and saw us in our rituals of life?
Would she think we're doing well,
in our own chaotic hell,
or would she decide to add a little strife?

There's Erisians on the net,
who are trying, you can bet,
to spread those words of chaos writ by Mal.
But Discordians, you know,
might aim an extra blow,
at their brothers and their sisters of the Chao.

I have seen the common spat,
regarding this and that,
and who and what and where and why and how.
And in the orgy of the fray,
we oft forget our way,
and might spill our bitter tea upon our towel.

So I wonder what she'd say,
if she happened through this way,
and stopped to see the madness we had wrought.
I think she'd laugh the most,
and head back home to boast,
about the way in which her Children fought.


Ratatosk, Squirrel of Discord
Chatterer of the Words of Eris
Muncher of the ChaoAcorn
POEE of The Great Googlie Mooglie Cabal

78
Literate Chaotic / A Chaosmas Carol
« on: June 07, 2007, 09:43:10 pm »
"Alas, I am lost!" quoth Omar one day.
"I can't find the road and I can't find my way."
"Of course you cannot," spoke a voice from behind,
"You seek and you seek, but you cannot find."

Omar turned quick, like a Fleet Footed Freeb,
and Fleet Footed Freebs turn quite quickly indeed!

And what do you think that poor Omar found?
'Twas a Great Golden Apple sitting there on the ground.
"An Apple?" he said "Why apples can't talk!"
"For an apple is quiet, like a tree or a rock."

He then heard a giggle, from near his right ear,
but turning around he saw no one near.
"This cannot be real! This cannot be right!
I must be asleep in my bed in the night."

"You know what is real?" the voice asked in surprise.
"But what if what's real is more than you realize?"
Omar sat down, right there in the road,
and who should he see but Great Old St. Toad!

"No, no!" said poor Omar. "That isn't O.K."
"Toads should not walk or dress in that way."
"Why not?" asked St Toad, with a St. Toady smile.
"Come walk with me, Omar, and talk for awhile."

So Omar got up and walked with St Toad.
And they walked and they walked, they walked right off the road!
They walked for awhile to some stairs under ground,
then they went down, down, down, down and then down.

To a place where a very old gentleman sat.
He looked like he should live somewhere in Tibet!
"Come Hither, Come Hither" said the wizened old man.
"I'm the Great Dealy Lama, please come shake my hand."

"You mean Dali Lama," Omar said with a grin.
"But you are not he, I know you're not him."
"Of course I am not," said the man with a snort.
"I am not quite the Dali Lama sort."

"Eris sent you to visit this place...
but I'm not sure why, from that look on your face."
"Eris?" said Omar, "I'm afraid I don't see
why a silly fake goddess would bother with me."

St. Toad gave a gulp, and a look of pure fear.
"Don't say she's a fake... just maybe she'll hear!
And if she hears you say you don't think she's real,
she might turn you into a Hagbardian Eel!"

"Oh yes," said the guru, "he is very right,
and Hagbardian Eels are a very strange sight.
They have fourteen legs and 3 extra eyes,
and I hear they have wings, but not one of them flies!"

Omar sat down, just sat on the floor.
He thought and he thought and he thought a bit more.
"I don't think its true, I don't think its right.
I think I'm asleep and dreaming this night."

He heard a giggle from somewhere close by,
and then he heard a sound, just like a soft sigh.
But the sigh was a wind that picked him right off the floor,
blew him up the stairs, and right out the door!

It blew him way up in the air and away,
it blew him through the sky for most of the day.
And finally, he landed, with a soft gentle thump,
he landed right there, in the great city dump.

And down by his shoe, he heard an "Ahem".
A very strange roach was staring at him.
"I say , do you mind?" the little roach said.
"Your silly windstorm woke me right out of bed!"

"Well it wasn't my storm," Omar said with a groan.
"If I could do that I'd just blow myself home!"
"Oh ho!" said the roach. "Then I know who you are!
I'm called St. Gulik, and your named Omar!"

"That's right," Omar said, "but how could you know?"
"And I don't think they make saints as small as my toe."

"Oh Discordian saints, can be any size,
what matters is what you have on the insides."

"I'm confused", Omar sighed, "What's real and what's not?
Before this strange day, I'd not given it thought."

"Of course you did not, for your face was all grey,
and your brain was all hunched, because you never play!"
The little roach smiled and said "Follow me,
for I have some stuff that you'd love to see."

He followed St. Gulik, through a small Nissan trunk
and stood in surprise, for there in that junk...
Was a mansion so great with ceilings so high,
he couldn't believe it, but boy did he try!

Then a curious thing, the roach on the floor,
grew and he grew and he grew up some more.
And what do you think Omar saw with his eyes?
Why St. Gulik had grown up to full human size!

And he had human ears and eyes and a nose.
He had human arms and fingers and toes.
That roach had become an elderly man.
and this was as much as Omar could stand.

"Ok" said our friend, as he trembled with fright.
"This all must be real and Eris is right!"
St. Tibbs smiled and reached out his hand,
saying "I see that you've found your pineal gland!"

Omar was stunned as he felt something strange,
there was something just pulsing right there in his brain!
And suddenly there was that sweet laugh once more
And Eris Discordia appeared at the door.

"Oh no! Oh dear! Oh my!" Omar said.
"I'm sorry I didn't believe what they said!"
"It's ok," our dear goddess said with a laugh,
"I wouldn't believe most of this, only half."

"You see my dear Omar, the foolish and wise,
are not far apart in Discordian eyes."
she smiled and said, "But there is one thing yet.
Do you trust me Omar?" and he said "You Bet!"

She took him by the arm and said "Here we go!
and the very next stop will be my home in Limbo!"

So Omar and Eris, went to Limbo for tea.
and wondrous works of Chaos did he see.
Then Omar went home and the end of the day,
content with the thought that he'd found his way.

So someday if you find that you've lost your way,
and your brain is all hunched from Greyfaces that day.
Just shake yourself off with a smile and laugh.
But don't believe this, well maybe just half!

Ratatosk, Squirrel of Discord
Chatterer of the Words of Eris
Muncher of the ChaoAcorn
POEE of The Great Googlie Mooglie Cabal

79
(This was originally posted at 23AE in 2005 and updated for this post, I've been asked to repost some of my other works and thus I am doing so... if this is not appropriate, please feel free to delete)
----------------

"Hold your breath, make a wish, count to three...
Come with me and you'll be in a world of Pure Imagination.
Take a look and you'll see into your Imagination.
We'll begin with a spin, traveling in the world of my creation.
What we'll see will defy explanation.
If you want to view Paradise, simply look around and view it.
Anything you want to do is, want to change the world, there's nothing to it..."
- Willy Wonka

At some point in the quite distant past of my early childhood, I saw Willy Wonka. I don't remember watching the movie the first time, but I do remember that there was a defining moment in my consciousness that day. It was the scene right before Agustus Gloop fell into the Chocolate River and became a giant chocolaty spit wad. Willy Wonka had opened the door to the Chocolate Room. Everyone walked into a world that couldn't exist. The colors were too vibrant to be simple reflections of light frequencies, everything was edible and the power of a single man's imagination had changed reality. I don't know when it happened, but I will never forget the elation I felt as Gene Wilder sang the above words. Every one of them hit me like an arrow. I wanted to live in a world of Pure Imagination. I didn't want to live in the serious world around me. The world of school and the factory where my dad worked was far too much like Charley's hometown, all the color and cheer had washed away. People were serious and concerned about serious things....

Of course, being whatever age I was, my analytical skills weren't sophisticated enough to appreciate this. All I can remember is wishing that I was in the Chocolate Room. Some number of years passed between that memory and the first time I can recall actually watching "Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory". The feeling I got when I heard the opening bars to "Marriage of Figaro" played on Wonka's locked door was a complete shift into that world of fantasy again.

I think that it was probably the first time I recall touching what Dr. Timothy Leary calls the 5th Circuit of Consciousness. That point where you can simply comprehend more of what is going on... at least maybe more of what you perceive to be going on. Colors do indeed appear brighter and the line between your reality and everyone else's becomes a shade less defined. Wilson and Leary both wrote that this level of consciousness was the 'next' evolution of the human experience. Circuits that are ready to use, just waiting to be plugged in. I'm not sure that they were right, but it makes a useful metaphor if nothing else.

I have only in the past few years been able to identify the place my imagination gets me to with the 5th level of Consciousness. I did this with specific neurotransmitters as well as other ways that have been in use for 4000 years to activate the fifth-brain. The ways that have been developed have been almost exclusively the domain of the shaman, the occultist and the alchemist. I have come to believe that the 'magic' associated with most occult figures may not a supernatural magic, but simply the engaging of higher circuits of consciousness. Perhaps that's all that Willy Wonka was, someone who had figured out how to engage all eight circuits of consciousness permanently. His hallucinations manifested in other people's reality model.

Marijuana has been proven to be a powerful neurotransmitter for the fifth-circuit. So has Tantra Magick, Sensory Deprivation and Free Fall. All of these are known to cause hallucinations on some level as well. Are hallucinations simply the beginning of reality-shaping? Is it simply your imagination beginning to affect the world around you? Wilson and Leary both connected fifth-circuit engagement with the separation of the nervous system from terrestrial ties. Astronauts describe feelings very similar to 'being high' when in the freefall of space (perhaps that is why the earth looks different to an individual experiencing it from space than any picture or virtual display can ever convey... they experience earth on a slightly different level of consciousness.

So maybe that's what Willy Wonka is actually trying to do, evolve consciousness to the next level (metaphorically). Look at the extreme warping he does to the reality of the contestant winners (and their greyfaced hunchbrained parents). Every one of them is placed in a situation that forces them to accept that they know less of reality than they think (or at least they know less of Wonka's reality). The book takes this idea a step further. At the end of the book we learn that all the children made it through their ordeal and were now much better for it. They all had improved in a number of ways. Wonka's mindfucks had proven beneficial for each of them.

Even Grandpa Joe and Charley need to get high (on fizzy lifting drink) before they can go to the next level of consciousness where they get everything they always wanted. Charlie and Grandpa Joe finally become fully aware of consciousness at a Wonka-level in the great glass elevator. Not only flying high (stoned off their sweet-tooth), but in a vehicle that allows them, with the touch of a button to go anywhere and anyway they desire. They simply push a button and wooosh! The GGE appears as the representation of Ultimate Freedom from Rules and Restrictions, to fully explore their Three Dimensional Universe.

They found a reality with no more rules to hold them back.

After all, that's what Wonka promised when he sang, "There is no Life I know to compare to Pure Imagination, living there you'll be free, if you truly wish to be."

I hereby declare Willy Wonka a Non-Prophet of Eris.

80
Or Kill Me / Reflections on The Children of Eris
« on: June 07, 2007, 05:35:20 pm »
The Chaotic Ones Were, The Chaotic Ones Are, The Chaotic Ones Shall Be Again

In the beginning the Chaos was, and the Chaos was with Discordians and the Chaos was Discordians. There appeared great non-prophets and these Children of Eris laid the first foundations for further forays. Here we do not speak of the great Mal-2, nor Omar K Ravenhurst, nor RAW (may they party in Limbo forever), nay for there were many before them that found enlightenment through action and salvation through nonsense. Camus, Jarry, Beckett, Shulz, Kafka, Kierkegaard all came to enlightenment by their own path, their own action, their own experience. Each laid a footpath through the territory of the absurd, each left behind notes and clues about how one could go about creating their own footpath through this little explored territory. Each of them were truly Children of Eris. Yet, this is not to detract from the Great Works of those who came later, Mark Twain, for example, left much for us to consider in his Letters From The Earth, Papers of the Adam Family and other writings, there were those who were inspired to write The Principia Discordia, from which a fountainhead of Chaos ensued. Each of these came about their enlightenment through personal action and their salvation through their own nonsense. They all left behind journals, notes, dissertations, FAQ's, How-To's and DIY infos about their own footpaths created in the unexplored territory. These ancient ones did not become enlightened by reading silly things. They did not find their path by slapping people with the same tired trout. Yet, in this time, we see little in the way of Action and sadly, little in the way of enlightenment. In Action and in Action alone, enlightenment can be found.

A few weeks ago, I determined to see how things were progressing in the Way of Eris since the death of the last PD era Discordian. In some places, Erisians weep for the loss of Bob and I too am sad to see such a silly mind move on... yet, it was not in RAW the man that enlightenment is found. In some places, Erisians seem to have confused freedom with liberalism and they claim Discordian thought, while endorsing one political party or the other, yet it is not in any specific political party that Enlightenment is found. In some places, they study the paths of those who have experienced, thinking that Enlightenment shall fall upon them while in meditation, and they will wait as the young man in Camden Benares Zen Story, for it is not in old houses where enlightenment is found. There is no action and long have I waited for Action. But here, here at PD.com I see something that RAW might have associated with the Cosmic Trigger. Here, there is no acceptance of any previous map as the territory. There appears to be a movement to actually explore the territory while making new maps. In this sacred rite, The Chaotic Ones shall be again, rising to replace those that were and to provide examples for those that are. Those that find the PD as The Answer, or those that believe The Conspiracy, the 23 Enigma, The Law of Fives as real... have missed one of the secret keys of the PD: "This book is a mirror. When a monkey looks in, no Apostle looks out". A mirror can only tell us about ourselves... in and of itself the mirror has no Information, no knowledge, no power, and nothing of Enlightenment. However, a mirror can be useful.

Many here appear to have a grasp on the need for action. They seem to understand that it is not in the relics of past Erisian Delight that Future Discordian Works lie, but in their actions based on current realities. Chaos is active and is based on the actions and reactions around it. The actions and reactions during the 1960's that led to the PD are not the same actions and reactions that exist here, today. In this, I applaud you and find great hope for Discordianism and reason to stick around for a bit... if you don't mind a chaotic rodent chattering on occasion.

Ratatosk, Squirrel of Discord
Muncher of the ChaoAcorn
Chatterer of the Words of Eris
POEE of the Great Googlie Mooglie Cabal

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