Bad Angel Life Coach Advice for the Day:

This is not about Rabbit Holes. No wait … this kind of all about rabbit holes. Rabbit holes, notoriously being easier to get into than to get out of, this is about more specifically how exactly to get out of a rabbit holes. I will present my own process very much aware that there are other ways and very much open to you sharing your own technique/s.

Surfing barefoot on the roiling back of a raging Rhino is not something that I would recommend to everyone but it surely does work for me. One thing to keep in mind is that once the Rhino gets into gear, jumping off is not an option for that would mean certain death so this must be done only with ironed will resolution. Be advised that everything goes by very fast and slightly out of focus caused by the vibrations from the rhino's hoofs pounding the earth with the power of a locomotive. Keep your legs bent slightly to absorb the shocks of the ride very much the stance a surfer might assume when riding an ocean wave.

Hint: there's only so many means to egress Rabbit Holes just turns out that one proven method is on the back of a raging Rhino.

That's my tip for the day. Just giving it away, man, because at Bad Angel Life Coaching, we are here to help.

Short Short Story, "Right?"

 

So this guys pulls me aside at the party, right. All hush hush like stuff. Secret agent kind of stuff. Leans in real close so I wonder is he going to blow in my ear, maybe? But that's okay too cause I ain't all that uptight. Just saying - puts out his hand, says, Hey, John? Is it?

Sure, I say, I'm John – so who the hell are you, man?

Bob, says this guy.

No lie, Bob! OMG! I love Bob I say sincerely, letting go of his hand so I can take another drink. I can hear the ice tinkling over the music and cacophony of our little party here. Like some full on church bells rung nearly right in my very own ears by my very own hand.

Bob laughs a little nervously – why do you love the name "Bob" so much?

"Bob!", common, man – Bob is way holier than God. Bob, backwards, Bob forwards? I think to myself - I like to stay positive, you know? Just the way I am. I like to say something, anything, anything at all positive when I first meet someone, anyone, anyone at all, right?

Are you putting me on, Bob asks. Bob trying to be light about it but Bob is obviously a little uncomfortable with compliments. Try to be nice, right?

I throw an arm around his shoulder and squeeze him warm and friendly as I can. Bob, what are we in grade school here. Like I'm gonna to make fun of your name. Fuck no, Bob - Bob the magically named one, Bob forward, Bob backward. Truth is I love you already.

And to myself thinking, He's a little fella and I do like him, uptight little fella but I like him alright. I want to tell him that he is ahDorable but Bob here might be put off by this and I don't want Bob to come out of his skin. I ain't here to put people off, right. It's not that kind of a party, right. I'm just happy drunk right now is all.

Hey, John, says Bob, I overheard you talking about these magic mushrooms. I was kind of wondering if these mushrooms might help me, you know what I mean?

Hell, I don't think that I have a clue what Bob means. But I want another gin and tonic so I walk him off by the shoulder towards the kitchen. Like I'm thinking hard about his question. But what I'm thinking is I get this distinct impression that he is asking me this in confidence. This makes me giggle because I'm a writer and asking me something in confidence is kind of like telling a common street hooker, “I Love You!” when you cum. Sure, it happens and all but it ain't exactly a commonsensical thing to do, right.

Look, I say to Bob when we're in the kitchen and I'm plopping more ice in my glass, realizing that I guess I was kind of thinking about it, after all. It is not a question deserving pf disrespect.

You ask a very valid question here. Thing is this. I couldn't even begin to tell you, Pal. What goes on between those fucking Penis Heads and your own dear mind is so utterly private that even YOU might not know the answer to THAT very valid question you ask. Does that make any sense to you, Bob? Thinking to myself - it's always cool to meet a question with a question. Thinking to myself that I gave him my very best shot at his question. That I did pretty damn good considering how hammered I already am here and how I sort of kind of don't give a damn about this question.

Bob looks more confused than maybe he always does – No, not really, John? Very serious like.

Okay, Bob, I say, putting my arm around his shoulder again and leaning in this time close like I might blow in his fucking ear, right. My drink is full again . The glass is tinkling. I am a happy guy anyway, man, but sure I'm a little extra happy just now. I come on like I'm his very own best buddy or something cause, you know, it is a worthy question and drunk as I am becoming, I like this little fella, Bob. Maybe I want to give Bob some kind of answer to one of these preposterously unanswerable questions.

Bob, I say – and boy is old Bob listening now. All I can tell you, Bob, is that they sure as hell won't hurt you none. So what the hell? What the hell, right? Knock yourself out.

Squeezing his shoulder hard, laughing hard, too, almost spilling my drink such that I have to admonish myself, “Hey, Johnnie Boy, don't want to do THAT cause THAT is the only sin”, right? The only fucking sin, right”, hehehe

"Interview with The Artist as a Young Cat" (Feline Artic Critique)

Jack The Cat:

"I work exclusively in three dimensions. It's just how I see things, I suppose? I use numerous mediums including my own poop - my most under appreciated medium, I must say. I am exalted whenever I work in toilet paper and I doubt it would be a surprise to anyone familiar with my toilet paper work to hear that it is a clear favorite of mine. An untouched roll of toilet Paper makes my heart pound with creative fervor. This particular piece I call, 'Go With The Flow' and I believe here I exercised a great deal of restraint which adds both irony and, I hope, a compelling tension that I hope speaks for itself."

Progressed Scorpio Moon Conjunct Natal Venus - Personal Astrology by David Sky

First of all, a Scorpio Progressed Moon is generally seen as a challenging transit lasting about two and a half years. The essential dignity of the Moon is at fall in Scorpio, the worst sign energetically for our Moon and that just means that what the moon represents, the mind, that larger part of our mind, the unconscious mind and our emotions, our sense of security and safety and classically, Mother, Home and Family also applying to the 4th House in our natal charts is not happy in Scorpio. As an astrologer, never have worked with anyone who has Scorpio ruling their 4th house (Leo Rising in natal) who did not have a challenging childhood characterized by abuse, physical or verbal or both or worse. Another thing that makes this transit a challenging aspect is that it is strongly associated with emotional transformation that while ultimately can be liberating at the highest octave, can also bring in those darker characteristics mentioned above and/or trigger any unresolved emotional issues that may yet be hiding beneath the surface of our lives.

Our Moon energy generally wants whatever it takes to find us in a peaceful state feeling secure and safe. The good news here is that the Moon and Venus, the two most feminine energies in our charts, are quite compatible. With Scorpio, however, this can be difficult because even if outwardly we may find ourselves in a position that is ostensibly quite safe and secure, the influence of a Scorpio progressed Moon, mitigated greatly by its aspect to our natal positions and our overall emotional structure, can create insecurity internally without the input of any outside influence at all. Progressed energy is subtle and even more so with the Moon such that it is a deep, underlying influence that may well go unnoticed dependent upon one's own sensitivity. At the beginning of such a transit, having just left Libra, mind you, we may find ourselves experiencing some outward manifestation of this transit seen in and around whatever house the transit is hitting.

I think the most important point with any transit is that the transiting planet “triggers” whatever energy it is aspecting in our natal chart - and more to the point, the transiting planet triggers “what we have made of this energy in our natal charts” since as we live, and thanks to free will, which is everything, this energy is always dynamic and never static something that makes astrology such a meaningful challenge to tackle and why, perhaps, one person may experience this transit quite differently than another. Each planet can express on a spectrum energetically say from a lower to higher octave, often something hard to ascertain from the chart, at least for me at my level of astrological understanding. I do not like to assume and find it best to spend some time in interview to ask some pointed questions and allow reality – as opposed to the map of reality that is astrolgy – to inform me to some meaningful degree.

For myself, natal Venus is conjunct Neptune in the third house of Scorpio and the house ruler, Pluto, sits on my ascendant within only minutes of orb and is sextile to that Neptune/Venus. Saturn is a close trine to Pluto and also sextile to Neptune/Venus. Today, the progressed moon has cleared by half a degree and the energy is already dissipating for me but it has been a feeling of “psychic attack” with a good measure of paranoia and the dredging up of deep seated issues around low self esteem – note that Venus also can be about our self esteem – and also insecurity within my relationship that is quite secure and even thought well aware of this dynamic, it has gotten to me at times. One that that has surprised me is how much this has been about money and finances, something else Venus rules along with relationships and romantic love. I think that my issues around self esteem and how I look that is something typically I pay very little attention to throughout my life has to do with the sextile to the Ascendant encouraging me to pay more attention to how the way that I present myself impacts those who I interact with, publically and privately.

I am by nature mostly an internal creature and while you would think that this transit would be solely about that, what has surprised me is how much it is been about the external. Venus is surface oriented and this fact is again why it is not happy in Scorpio that is about all that hidden and occulted of which, in general, Venus wants absolutely nothing to do with – Libra, where the Moon was before this transit, is also surface oriented and similarly has no love for Scorpionic occultism and unconscious shadow work. Lastly, for myself, as the progressed moon clears my Venus, Uranus now well clears its opposition to my Venus as Saturn is clear of its square to my Venus and while I face many challenging aspects elsewhere, relationship issues are the bright spot in my life and set now to only improve. For this, I am most grateful since it allows me to focus upon health and wealth now.

Get Off Your Knees and Roar! Essay

 I have to say not to make light at all of feminism but goddamn man not only the roe v wade fiasco but just the overall tone of western culture et all with young women cravenly seeking attention by literally displaying their bodies like birds (and it is the male bird who displays not the female) with no other pretense like any display of talent or anything other than literally jiggling their bodies for attention of males essentially.

Please understand divine feminine that men, the divine masculine, are not the problem here and that we are all being massively controlled, propagandized and gaslighted by a an evil that defies human comprehension. It is our humanity itself that is under assault not our genders.

Those women who support the right to choose, do you now understand why some of us, males and females, have rejected forced vaccinations and are appalled by the totalitarian tactics taken around the world that really and truly are based upon a false science and why it is absolutely unequivocally evil for any governing entity anywhere to force anything upon a humans body, that this is sacrosanct or damn well should be.

If you are pro life, say, do you not comprehend that if a government can force you to not have an abortion, then a succeeding government can come along and force you to have an abortion? We must have moral absolutes and values and one that damn well should be absolute is the sanctity of our own bodies.

Bulwonkle Tourist Detective, "Morning on the Island"

Beverly sleeps late. My body on the other hand wakes itself at first light always has. I think something is a little off with me because I have never felt fear in my life but just the thought of living in Alaska and not being able to sleep for weeks or even months on end … now that's scary to me because I need my sleep. Without a solid six hours, I'm for shit, man.

I like to run the beach around the island before the sun is even up. It took a long time for my feet to harden enough to make it barefoot. Sounds easy right I mean it's just sand but haul ass in it for a good hour to make it around the whole island that can be a pounding, believe me. I try to warn people that paradise will sneak up on you and just clean your clock. It's terrible for that because no one ever sees it coming since it's “paradise”. Except me, of course.

I always go clockwise around because I'm right handed. I like this predawn time of the morning since the island is still, mostly sleeping, or just rising and usually there is a sea breeze starting to kick up with the birds singing and chirping and squawking. Big, fat Iguana watch from their perches in the trees and countless lizards scatter underfoot. I never get tired of the lizards here and I am pretty sure they're the smartest goddamn creatures on earth. Just the way they cock their heads and look you right in the eye all the time as if to say, “I got you all figured out, Human”.

This whole eastern side catches the predominate winds and on my right is a series of mostly three story beach condos soaking up every centimeter of sea frontage. I hear my name seaward as a hand pops out the window of a boat docked and I wave back, “morning Augustus. Good hunting!” Lobster this time of year but Augustus would come back with fish as well you could count on it and I do often do business in the evening. He came from Honduras with his wife twenty years ago to the island so that his children may have a better life. Like most of us here, an immigrant, or at least a transplant from the mainland. Very few islanders are original families here. You can tell the original family members if you pay any attention at all they are entirely different from Gringos. Someone asked me once what is the difference and I said well they have souls. We all start out with souls, of course, only those who grow up on this island and stay here all their lives, they live in such peace and beauty their entire lives that their precious souls never get beaten out of them.

My favorite part is the southern side of the island which is the most forested and natural area. If I gave a shit about birds, I would be able to list hundreds of species easily. But I don't. Did you know that the only living creatures related to dinosaurs are birds? That's why I don't fully trust the little bastards. I think Hitchcock had it about right, frankly - only a matter of time before the birds kill us all.

One thing I love about this island is that it has a good beach most all the way around. I don't see any structures until rounding the south side and heading back up the west side where mainly locals live in shanties lacking the amenities most of our tourists and local expatriates find essential, including myself, I am not ashamed to admit. I'm hot waters biggest fan. If you pay any attention, though, you notice that the people are by and large smiling and happy and the children are very happy. How many times I have seen people on vacation so glum compared to the local serving them and making not enough money from it to barely feed their family.

It's hard to be happy without a soul.

Near where the western side along the bay meets the northern side is the old power station with its enormous train car size generators mostly dormant now used only as backup since we put in an underwater cable from the mainland. By the time I return to our apartment taking up the second floor of Miss Avlanter's enormous old mansion, the sun is coming up. To my surprise Beverly is already on the deck watching the sunrise with a cup of coffee held in both hands blowing on it gently. A little steam rises up from the cup and with the steam rising and the sun rising behind it, O man makes me love her so much you have no idea! I wish to God I could paint but I cannot draw a straight line because this scene is the most beautiful I have ever seen in my life.

After I get a cup of coffee myself, I go out on the deck and stand behind her quietly stroking her long hair. She finally sips the coffee cautious as always. truly a woman after my own heart.

She says, you're taking me to breakfast this morning I'm up early.

I see that, I say. You are beyond beautiful right now. Epic beauty. Staggering. Mesmerizing -

Enough! Bev says, kissing the back of my hand. I took a piss and rushed out here so I could see the sunrise and haven't even washed my face yet for God's sakes, Bull.

You doubt my perception?

It is my life's work to doubt your perceptions. apparently, but I love what I do – now coffee and sunrise, then take me in the shower and then take me to breakfast - I'm hungry this morning for some reason.

I hear and obey.

* * * * *

We hold hands walking up to Anita's Place and I feel very happy this morning it´s clear and not too hot and we have an invite to go snorkeling off a guys yacht. He's either the nicest guy in the world or else a front for some Mexican Mafia and I'm not certain yet so this outing will be fun and hopefully informative. My work is never done.

It's easy to kill one bird with one stone, that´s the trick, I always say, shoot for killing two birds with one stone - why fuck around, right – I mean life's too short?

Hey Babe, I was thinking what about adopting children - I would be a great dad and you would be a great mom.

Bev says, you would be a terrible dad, Bull, that's out of the question – volunteer at the school with the kids maybe? I've already been a Mom, thank you very much.

I'm afraid to do that volunteer with the kiddies deal because one of the little buggers might claim I touched em in the bad place just to fuck with me.

What? Why on earth would a child do that?

O Bev I wished I lived in your world of rainbows and unicorns, Jesus kids are little monsters. I think I read that in Psychology Today. You must to think ahead, you know that, calculate those unlikely and often unseemly potentialities. It's a dirty job but someone has to do it. Give me credit, Bev, remember when I was talking about how an airplane engine could fall out of the sky and crush someone and then we saw it on the news, right? I see it coming, Bev, it's a gift and a curse, what can I say?

You know Bull for someone who claims to have never felt fear, you sure are paranoid – you ever think about that?

You mean paranoia IS fear? Damn, I turn that around in my mind as we get to Anita's? I just learned something about myself here that I've been terrified my whole life and did not even realize it, a real moment of realization for me such a rare thing these days.

Thank you, Beverly, you taught me something about myself today.

Don't thank me, it's what I do. Welcome to the human race, Bev says. Damn I'm hungry.

What Could Be, Poem

Having beaten his sword

Into a handsome plowhead

Used to husband his peace,

He turns himself into the earth.

Like the turn of the leaves

To an oncoming storm, he

Turns with instinct back into life,

That most precious thing -

What wars forever take away

The Machine

Maybe at the very core of the fantastic mind control exercised upon especially it seems the American people for at least decades is this unshakable belief that once every four years we the people get to assert ourselves by electing a savior figure who we seem to believe with blatantly unfounded certainty will then act as our champion and right the wrongs we feel are set upon us. It's metronomic , man, you can hear it coming if you put your ear down right upon the railroad tracks.

The rigid form of it all and repetitive nature hint at the fact that what our collective selves have become now is not a nation but actually a machine. Not to be obtuse but perhaps it is better to say that the machine has become us but either way we are the nuts and bolts of this gargantuan metal thing that now spans the wide world with its most obvious manifestation being the military covering now the surface of the earth and under the surface of the earth, the vast oceans of the earth and under the oceans and the air above the earth even into space.

But the machine is as subtle as it is rigid not subject to the human weakness of cognitive dissonance so spreads itself out through the land in every direction taking the form of roads, wires, above and underground cables and connections of all kinds while also, of course, lighting up digital networks of unfathomable complexity and most profoundly and insidiously perhaps this machine we have become reaches seamlessly across time and space via the nearly invisible pathways of our own minds humming and chirping with power that some of us hear it constantly calling this phenomenon, tinnitus.

I try to resist the inexorable machinations but if truth be told it is the machine itself that types these words as much as “I” do so. Like characters in a science fiction movie wherein some other worldly intelligence infects humanity with a virus, this machine, the manifestation of what has been called the trans-humanist agenda thought erroneously to be off somewhere in the near future, moves through us now with all the cheerful alacrity of a meme.

Following Seas & Safe Harbors

Searching Energy is swollen and heedless

A sailing ship with sails drawn full and tight,

Fierce winds bum-rushing it from behind

And the powerful thrusts of a following sea

The Finding Energy begs sated to acquiesce

The body of two lovers come quietly to rest,

Having found safe harbor in loving embrace,

Sighs no longer rising from the sails above

Free Man´s Song - Poem

I create, I love -

Now a free man

Singing a free man's song

No longer shaking a

Tiny human fist

At the gods, the fates

Only concepts drifting

On the seas of my mind

No longer a thing apart

Sun lusts issuing forth

Branch over branch over branch

All-a-one

At once the thing I am

Expanding and dissolving

Only breathing in and out

All that is touched shimmers

All is a bright, shining fabric

Woven perfectly, seamlessly,

Of this pure white light

everything - ego! -

dissolving under the sheer

weight of now

The North Star, Poem

The ship Her name is Hope
The sea we call our Mother
We ride a strong following sea

The waters always remorseless
The heart without bitterness
The divine feminine our winds

Dead on by the north star She sails
Easily without restraint or measure
Day into night, night into day ..

Hosting Hunter S Thompson - poem

Hard core bikers and stone cold killers

Reiki Masters and shaman and energy workers

Mediums and psychics and healers and mystics

Not a TV Show no man just a small show goat farm

In the long morning shadow of Mount Hood, Oregon

In this dream I am only an itinerant farm hand

Dream within a dream I call The Coma Dream Dilemma

How am I to know certainly that “this” is not a coma dream?

I channel Hunter S. Thompson for the month of August

Told him straight up, just some pot and you can write – only

No guns, dig it, no drugs, booze and certainly no hookers, man

You laugh my grandmother Mayes is my Guardian Angel

Spiritually, she is the enforcer: good luck fucking with Grandma!

And Hunter knew man I mean she's right there with him

And he knew that he could only take control to write

Pretty wide open like that but also have faith in Grandma

So then our environment is the water in which we swim

And it was the Reiki Masters and the Energy Workers

And Mediums and the goddamn beautiful bikers

Subtle and deep with wisdom and brutal when needs be

That blew my mind away

I found out that I'm nothing like Hunter he's different, man

Hunter occupies space and time all Hunter all the time

He truly doesn't care about what society or anyone thinks

He doesn't have to try to not care, he just doesn't

Like the wolf gives no apologies to eating the caribou alive

Hunter to the end said: “it never got weird enough for me, man”

After a month I said, “it's gotten plenty weird enough for me, man”

Like snow I can say that I have had enough weird for a lifetime

Hunter left without a fuss he was bored and thought I am a pussy

Didn't take it so hard since I know he thinks everyone's a pussy

America Trips on the 4th of July

America starts to feel the tab of acid she had put under her tongue kick in, hoping for a revelation or at least a few moments of surrender. In her mind now crawling with bizarre and insane thoughts of mundane and profound nature, she feels the breath of doom brush the back of her neck. It tickles a little, you know, feels like the breath of a lover and she presses her hand there on her neck longingly, smiling. There's a sound to the feeling of it, a playful sound, playful like the breath of a lover on the back of your neck, a tinkling sound maybe like finger bells?

I've come unhinged, she thinks, throwing back her head and laughing out loud. Just breathe, she advises herself wisely.

I feel like I’m not functioning at a very high level these days, she continues her thinking out loud speaking to no one in a high pitched voice that rises a little hysterically at the end. America laughing at the understatement of it all, laughing a little too hard a little too long – American can't stop laughing but really, really, if you think about it - it's pretty funny, right?

Sometimes you have to laugh, she reassures herself, sighing heavily.

She thinks a little wildly - O, wow, feels like I just need to sit down and really relax for a while. Maybe out in the mountains along a stream or something or maybe out on the ocean or on the shore along the beach somewhere where the waves are washing up rhythmically - you know? somewhere peaceful and quiet. Yeah, that sort of vibe right there, that's the ticket.

But the fantastic, carnival pace of free market capitalism and its attending political theater of the absurd demand virtually the opposite from her. It demands war, actually, lots and lots of war, continuous, unending war. America had gone for all her life but a mere handful of years without some of that war and even in those times of brief respite, she still had felt war baring down upon her. She feels the full weight of it, this ponderous momentum of war that is not a drum beat, no not all all, rather a mind numbing thumping as if an elephant the size of a continent were stomping the ground right next to where she is standing. After hundreds of years of war, America feels so achingly sick of war that she can barely bring herself to get out of bed in the morning.

And the noise! The noise was the worst of it all, America, looking all around her desperately now, not hearing that feeling of doom as a lover's playful breath on the back of her neck and not hearing that feeling as the light tinkling of finger bells but rather as a thunderous cacophony of millions of people telling so many lies and all at once all speaking so loudly and so goddamn fast that the sound of it seems to travel right through her bones in painful vibration following her anywhere she might choose to go?

I'll go mad! She wonders – no wait a minute, wait a minute … I've already gone mad shit that should be obvious to anyone paying any attention at all … throwing her head back again and laughing out loud, laughing insanely, tears streaming down her face. That's what anyone watching would think, just another totally deranged woman wandering aimlessly alone through New York City laughing insanely tears streaming down her sad face. Nothing to see here, people - move along now, move along.

America’s eyes glow as if inner lit, beaming crazily like the headlights of cars on the crowded city street at dusk. She had eaten at least a 1000 mics of some really nice, clean acid maybe an hour ago and America is peaking out now. She feels fully how lost she has been caught up in the pace of it all and how impossible it is to pull herself out of the narrow, noisy, metallic stream that seems to rush her along with it at a ridiculously, preposterously increasing pace. She sits down on an empty bench watching the throngs jitterbug past her in a kaleidoscope of whirling, streaming colors all running together in fantastical, frenzied motion.

Suddenly America, eyes beatifically closed, feels that she is merely a Dove cooing softly high up in a branch under the friendly auspices of a warm, afternoon sun and she puts her head back this time not laughing but smiling ... I am only a Dove, yes, just sitting peacefully here in this warm, afternoon sun, actually feeling the sun warm on her upturned face and neck as the nearest streetlight kicks on in the last faint glow of dusk.

Ah, but the peace and stillness she craves seems such a tenuous dream, so hard to hold on to it, but she tries keeping her eyes tight and insisting that the thing I am is a Dove, just a lone Dove, quiet and soft and real. But America can't quite shake that underlying feeling that is more like a racehorse pumped up on amphetamines and steroids, eyes lulling around in its head, nostrils flaring, heart pounding like a freight train in its chest, running faster and faster, over these many decades until in the midst of an unholy cacophonous outrage of lies and commerce and slaughter, America finds herself now running flat out as hard as she possibly can run simply to stay in the same place.

I must embrace this gaudy merry go round if I want to really milk this trip for all its worth, America insists to herself with a sudden, blinding flash of clarity. The wars O the wars! … they are so very far away, after all? And the needless, hopeless suffering of the masses that will wait, won't it? I mean, where are they to go, their wretchedness stretching now as it does from sea to shining sea? Right now these colors are so bright and so clear and so beautiful and the walls are breathing in concert with me in this lovely, syncopated harmony and PLEASE Dear God Almighty PLEASE! for just one moment in time please let me forget all the abuses of men