zengizmo's drunken rants

Well, this blog is clearly bullshit, innit? "Blogging without words???"

Blogging, like, REQUIRES words! Right!

So wtf is this bullshit I am herewith espousing, folk?

"All day long there is speaking, yet no word is ever spoken." - Roshi P Kapleau, The Three Pillars of Zen

So that's it! End of blog!

Oh, I know, you came here seeking entertainment, and you are not yet NEARLY satisfied, right? You want MORE WORDS...

So here is a little story. I know you like stories, right?

Years ago - in December of 2002, to be specific - I met my dear spirit guide Deanna for lunch at the Hilton Hotel restaurant across the street from where both of us worked.

We ate good food. She ordered a club sandwich, and ate it with a knife and fork, so as not to mar her perfect lipstick. I don't remember wtf I ate, cuz I was too entranced by her presence. See what a dweeb I am?

We talked of many things, some of them a TINY bit crazy, in some folks' view.

After getting back to my office, I emailed her and thanked her for talking to me so candidly. She thanked me also. Then I wrote her another email asking her to meet me outside during afternoon break at our usual meeting spot in front of her office building. She replied that she would like to do this.

At afternoon break time, I walked to the front of her building. She wasn't there yet.

So in my mind...telepathically...I asked her, "Are you coming out?"

In my mind...telepathically...she answered, "I'll be out soon. I need to talk to some people."

A couple minutes later she came out the door and walked to the corner of the alcove, saying, "I was in a meeting." She started lighting a cigarette.

I said to her out loud, "I talk to you in my mind. Do you hear me?"

She blew out cigarette smoke and nodded, saying out loud, "I was telling you I was coming out soon."



So: Which words were spoken, and which words were unspoken?

Based on this story: Is it possible to write a blog without writing or speaking words?

If such a blog could be written: Who would hear it?



Folks who already know the answers to these questions should keep silent. But: You already know this.

Folks who don't know wtf I am talkin about will probably not answer anyway. But: I am not necessarily looking for answers, am I?

Holy shit...I say the weirdest shit sometimes, don't I?

This is the first blog I have posted here that did not first appear on my facebook timeline. Is this a sign of change in my life?

There is a blog on my facebook timeline that I might want to publish here also...maybe. We will see.

Here is an exercise for the student: Answer my question above without speaking.

If you do not know how to do this already, it might take you anywhere from a few years to a few lifetimes to accomplish it. No hurry though...the universe still has at LEAST a few billion more years of life in it.

Deanna was fucking with me tonight. She was subtle, but she let me know she was fucking with me. I was drinking my wine, but: wtf? I felt more awake than relaxed. I asked Deanna: Why am I not getting drunk???

Finally she let me start feeling drunk. Sweet surcease of sorrow.

"Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore."
- Edgar Allan Poe, "The Raven"

I seek surcease of sorrow in movies and in social media. What are YOUR emotional addictions?

And in wine, of course. But I thought that went without saying.

So I told Deanna: "Aaahhh...so...you DO love me."

And I also told Deanna: "So...I passed some test?"

She didn't really reply directly.

She is blocking this memory from my mind so that I can't tell you what actually happened at that point.

However it seemed that I DID pass some kinda test.

So...shit is getting better...maybe?

I dunno, folk. You tell ME what is real, k?

Seems to me humans are way too obsessed with ascertaining "reality." Who the fuck can ever know what "reality" is?

Humans are highly illogical beings, yet they think they are very fucking logical. That is part of the human delusion, innit?

Then again: Fuck logic. As Deanna once wrote to me in an email years and years ago: "Logic has nothing to do with anything."

The most logical human I know about has an IQ that is unsurpassed in recorded history. Yet: She is not aware of spiritual beings like my Deanna. So: WTF good is her fucking logic?

She reminds me of lots of stuff I read in Carlos Castaneda's books about positions of the assemblage point...

The position of pure logic, in Castaneda's opus, is one of the many possible positions of the assemblage point.

Another possible position of the assemblage point is the Place of No Pity.

I have assembled that point, on rare occasion. So I know WTF Castaneda was talking about.

The assemblage point, in Castaneda's worldview, is a point at which each human conscious being creates a coherent wordview.

The assemblage point is a functional part of the human spiritual body that gathers lines of energy for the purpose of assembling a coherent worldview.

According to Castaneda...of course some folks think that they proved that Castaneda was merely a habitual liar...

My dear spirit guide Deanna is also a habitual liar...



So...why do I value the insights of Carlos Castaneda...

Folks who put all their faith in logic are ignoring 99 percent of the rest of reality.

Why would an enlightened being habitually lie? Maybe to teach us that logic has nothing to do with anything...?

The Zen masters used stories involving logical paradoxes - called, "Koans" - to help their students break out of the bonds of logic and see deeper into reality.

Because: Reality encompasses not only logic, but also a helluva lot more.

Hey, I have always been one who has valued logic uber alles. Without logic, and my command of it, I could not make my living.

The ability to command logic is intrinsic to the ability to design and create computer software.

However...creativity is also required to create computer software.

Where do thoughts come from? Do.."YOU"...create your thoughts? Do you? If you think you do...then how do you do that?

Show me how you create a thought. I will wait right here for you to demonstrate this to me.

Can you create a thought in my mind? Can you? Well I will tell you this: Deanna can.

Deanna is just a minion in the vast spiritual hierarchy, of course.

In our last phone conversation, she accused me of putting her on a pedestal. That is bullshit, of course. I have spoken with spirits who are way higher in the hierarchy than she is.

Prolly you think I should take my meds...? I am, of course. Wine is my medication of choice. In the evening, I mean. In the morning, my medication of choice is coffee.

I also take a multivitamin pill before bed every night.

What is YOUR medication of choice?

Yoga?

TV?

Pilates?

Late-night potato chips orgies?

Oh, don't worry, I won't name your TRUE addiction...cuz that would be major embarrassing, right?

So, ok, my true addiction is: Yes, you guessed it. Social media. That is where I seek an ego rush.

Night after night...

Cuz I can't stop. Cuz I am addicted.

"Looking for love in all the wrong places."

At least I know, tho, ya know?

Also I demolished the rest of that bag of potato chips tonight.

And it was SO. Good.

I went looking for a late-night snack, and the best I could do was green olives and a peanutbutter sandwich. How pathetic...

A few nights ago I made chicken chimichangas.

They were SO greasy. And salty.

I had never made anything like this before. It was an inspiration from God.

Ummm...what IS a chimichanga anyway? Hold on, Google is my friend....

OK well, what I made was not actually chimichangas, but close. I fried the corn tortillas in oil first, then made the filler from shredded chicken and refried beans.

And lots of paprika.

And I drank a lot of Corona beer with it. La cerveza mas fina.

What I most wonder is: Were there chicken chimichangas at the Last Supper? And: If not, why not?

And: Why is Jesus' body made of unleavened bread? Why not chicken chimichangas?

As you can see, I think deeply about the critical issues of spiritual truth.

I know, it is thankless work... but SOMEBODY has got to do it. And I am willing to sacrifice my precious time on this beautiful Earth to meditate on these deep truths.

I am thinking my next step will be some scientific studies to determine if chicken chimichangas can be trans-substantiated into the body of Christ. I will keep you posted.

I am thinking it will be important for me to someday have a personal discussion with Deanna's parish priest about the issue of chicken chimichangas in trans-substantiation.

I tend to think that Deanna's parish priest has already had a few issues to consider regarding Deanna...why not pile on a few more issues for his consideration? I mean...that is what priests are FOR, innit?

They get eddy-cated for that shit, right? In, like, seminary and stuff.

The question in MY mind is: Does Jesus have the power to trans-substantiate chicken chimichangas into his physical body?

OR: Is the trans-substantiation power of Jesus limited to unleavened bread?

Right?????

I will BET you that NO POPE has EVER considered the ramifications of this particular question. You think?

So here I am, once again breaking through to new milestones on the Spiritual Pathway!!!!

I really am amazing, ain't I?

You might think that my musings about chicken chimichangas are pointless in the overall scheme of things, however I say to you: The future of MY church hinges on this question. Cuz I propose to create a church in which chicken chimichangas are eaten for communion.

I think you must agree with me that church offshoots like this are the logical result of the Protestant movement, right?

Betcha Martin Luther never saw THIS shit coming.

Martin Luther never even HEARD of chicken chimichangas!!!!! So wtf did he really know at all???

I will tell you truly: There was not ONE. SINGLE. MENTION. Of chicken chimichangas on the 95 theses that Martin Luther nailed on the Wittenberg door.

I should prolly go into some kinda divinely inspired seizure involving some degree of mouth-frothing at this point, however perhaps I have failed to drink enough wine to manage that. Mea culpa, mea magna culpa...

See, I have spoken in Latin, the Holy Language of God.

The magic does not work unless spoken in Latin. Domini, domini, domini...

In nomine patri et fili et spiritus sancti amen.

But...wutever happened to, like, Hebrew...? The language of the Chosen People?

Baruch atah, adonai eluheynu, melech ha' olam.

You will not easily find a translation on Google for the anglicized version I quoted, so I will translate the Hebrew: Blessed are you, O Lord our God, ruler of the universe.

I have reached the end of wine's power over me for tonight...I regret to say, but I must tell you the Truth!!!

13. And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. I Thessalonians 5:23

Verily I say unto you: Do not trouble yourselves with vain thoughts of chicken chimichangas. For the Lord your God knows your fears and your laments, and will cleanse your souls from all unrighteousness, now and forever, world without end, amen.

Now I lay me down to sleep...

...if I die before I wake...

...I only wish I had gotten to eat more chicken chimichangas...

Of course, maybe it was the chicken chimichangas that killed me!

So, I have been easy on you so far. Now we are going to get down to some REAL ranting!!! On the subject of: Hipforums blog organization.

Well I hafta tell ya...I looked every which way from Sunday to find a link to add a new blog entry...and it was so hard!!!!!

There is only one place I FINALLY found to create a new blog entry. I needed to specifically click the link to Zengizmo's Drunken Rants. I could not post a new blog entry from Manage Blogs. I could not post a new blog entry from either of the blogs I had already entered. I HAD to be in one. Precise. Place: Zengizmo's Drunken Rants.

And I axe ya: How is a drunken dweeb like me supposed to find this while drunk????

Is Hipforums not disabled-accessible??? Is there no allowance for a drunken dweeb like me????

I would mount an immediate emailing campaign in US Congress...except: I am drunk. See?????

Where are the rights of drunken dweebs in this supposedly great democracy????

Shouldn't drunken dweebs have access to congressional lobbying also????

I am going to organize a Drunken Dweebs Political PAC! After I drink another glass of wine....

*mumbling* dweebs dammit *burp* make them all pay dammit *UUURRRPPP* gonna hear from ME by God!!! *HIC*

I am on vacation this week. That doesn't really mean a whole lot in the overall scheme of things, except that: I don't need to work. So I can do whatever.

I don't have a lot of money. I don't even have a lot of inclination to get out of my apartment, except that: Yeah, now and then I kinda think, "I need to get the hell out of this apartment!"

So: Last Sunday I took a train to nearby Providence, RI and did a walking tour of H P Lovecraft sites.

Most folks don't know who H P Lovecraft was, so I will provide some insight. He was born in the late 1800s - in Providence. He grew up in Providence, lived most of his life in Providence, and died and was buried in Providence in the 1930s. And he loved Providence.

He was a writer of horror stories. Hardly anybody even knew he existed when he was alive. He died in poverty. It was only after his death that his legend began to grow. Famed horror fiction writer Stephen King has proclaimed Lovecraft as the greatest horror fiction writer of the 20th century. Lots of other modern authors have named Lovecraft as one of their major influences.

I discovered the stories of Lovecraft in a book in my dad's library when I was 11 years old. I immediately fell in love with his writing.

And now, through vicissitudes of fate, I find myself within a couple hours' driving distance of where Lovecraft lived most of his life. And finally last Sunday I went to Providence to walk where he once walked, and to see the things he once saw.

There is an ancient church cemetery in his old neighborhood that he used to like to haunt.

His literary hero Edgar Allan Poe also used to haunt that same cemetery. And the house of a poetess whom Poe used to court is still standing on Benefit Street, in Lovecraft's old neighborhood.

I took photos of the cemetery and of Poe's gf's house.

What kind of strange coincidence is it that the lives of Poe and Lovecraft overlapped so closely in this way...though they were two generations apart in time and never met in person?

And how interesting that our modern horror author Stephen King also makes his residence here in New England, and has set a lot of the scenes of his novels in local areas?

Another of my all-time favorite authors, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr, used to live in a house on nearby Cape Cod - in the town of Barnstable. I found the house he used to live in online. One of his daughters now lives there. I thought of driving there...but, for what? I can view the house on Google Maps. What would driving there get me? I couldn't go into the house...and anyway the house is different now from when Vonnegut lived there. His daughter and her husband have drastically remodeled the place.

A friend I used to work with in my company rented that house years ago. Living there changed his ways of thinking a lot, because of knowing whose house it used to be, and coming to know more about that man.

This blog entry is all over the place, innit? It is just that I have so many thoughts that it is difficult to rein them in and tie them together succinctly. Prolly I will need to post lots more on this subject before we all get the gist of my diverse thoughts.

Here is one thing you can do, tho, if you want to know a bit more. You could read one of Lovecraft's stories. This is a favorite of mine - and the second favorite of Lovecraft himself. And it's fairly short. It's entitled, "The Music of Erich Zann." I read this story to my family one night, by candlelight, at the dining room table, when our power had been blown out by the remnants of a hurricane. You can read it in its entirety right here: https://www.hplovecra...iction/mez.aspx

Sweet dreams, friends.