the pork-pie hat at the center of the universe

I was looking for an appropriate metaphor with which to couch today's nonsensical nebula of neuro-electronic nanoglyphs, when all of a sudden - as in right this very moment -here it mystically appears before us all... the very "real" metaphor of global connectivity, Ladies and Gentlemen, sisbrahthren of all ages: Presenting the World Wide Web. The term already sounds archaic, but web is metaphorically more fitting than say, superhighway. Net "works" also, but for present purposes I'll stick with web metaphor, one that I'll shape in such a manner that any and every node can be considered the "center" from which we van navigate in any direction we please. "Surfing the waves of connectivity" that are simultaneously an infinite, interacting liquid sea of micro-currents which we collapse for practical navigable purposes into strands in the web that span the space and shape the relationship between the node/entities that represent ourselves, our ideas and our creations.

I don't know if it's pc these days to pick your nodes in public, but I've always lacked social skills, and if I don't pick a node my rant will become even more pointless, assuming that's mathematically possible.

The node I pick is ...

GOODBYE
PORKPIE
HAT.





Mingus' tribute to the Prez, Lester Young. the tune's been covered by a diverse group of musicians, From Jeff Beck and John McLaughlin to Joni Mitchell and Rahsaan Roland Kirk, the latter two each adding their own poignant and poetic lyrics to the already amazing and expressive tune.

As for Lester Young, I won't even try to capture his bigness with my own limited command of words.

I'll insteead quote Mr. Kirk, who was himself a saxophonist, greatly inspired by the prez, and you mights say, a fellow initiate of the mystical school of jazz that recognized the possibility that what was being transmitted through their instruments was far more than the "notes" which fell on the ears alone.

Kirk sang,

"He put all of his soul

into a tenor saxophone

He had his way of talking,

'twas a language all hisown

Life's story - Love and Glory

If you listen

While he plays it for you

now LISTEN

and LISTEN

and DIG IT

Can't you dig it?

Lester young is playing

what he's FEELING

Dealing and dancing us home."



If that doesn't shed a pinprick of light on Lester, look at the expression on Billie Holiday's face in the next clip:



Entrancing, ain't it?

(And, coincidently, there's Gerry "MullAGAIN.")

I humbly submit that the Power to Love is one of supplemental metaphorical transmissions encoded and contained within the mystical multiple messages of the music.

listen. and listen. and dig it.

The power to love is the ubiquitous warm breeze at our backs that aids us as we navigate from node to node and you can hear it sing wherever you travel even after you've parked your board.

Lester blew with a purpose that redefined the trade winds, which moved mingus who in turn redirected and amplified and iterated within the voices of Jeff Beck (who once called himself a Yardbird in honor of the original Birdman Charlie Parker who was also directly and profoundly influenced by the sideways-playin' saxophonist in the pork-pie hat) and so we weave our tangled webzizzizz...) and Mahavishnu Johnny and and neither last nor least Jaco and Joni... once more, if it is your pleasure, listen. and. listen. and dig it.



all those who love the youtube embed function say "eye"

the more you look the more wesurf and feel the tingly sea and air the more connections become apparent and the paradox is

as awreness grows, the universe shrinks, it's tighter and tinier and we're all a little closer together and related/connecteed in more ways than kevin bacon's films even begin to ilustrate and the bottom line is that the only thing between you and i is space and space is nothingness so i am right here right now in your very face kissing and licking and nibbling playfully and ii invite you to do the same and in the unlikely event that you bite my somewhat toxic and potentially lethal my head off, spit it out immediately, gargle profusely with White Lightning, and expunge and ignite the resulting liquid like a fire-breathing dragon. Place the head in a styrofoam cooler, pack it with ice, and mail it post-haste to Stacy Alexander Studios and address it "c/o Wild Man Fisher."

The universe is a conspiracy, and we're all in on it. The way we interpret the conspiracy is all up to the shape we carve in the gleamingsurface of the sea as we surf from node to node, connecting the dots that specle the web of existence.

God and Love and Money and Faith

The universe is a conspiracy, and we're all in on it.


"All that is, is metaphor."

Albert Einstein said that, "No problem can be solved with the same level of consciousness that created it."

Perhaps it's time

for a new paradigm.

Want change?

Got hope?

psssst....

C'mere, kid...

Wanna take a look at what's going on back in the kitchen? Fusion is the name of the game if you haven't heard. The ingredients are gathered from the most diverse and exotic locales, tossed together with the unlikely combination of whimsy, history and science, incorporated and intermingled with the aid of time and temperature, and served freely with love. Take a sniff, have a taste, devour a plateful and come back for seconds and dessert or,if you'd rather, tickle your taste buds elsewhere.

Bucky Fuller suggested that love is metaphysical gravity.

There's a rockin' Hendrix tune... y'all have heard it plenty of times. one of the lines goes,

"With the Power

of Soul

Anything is Possible"


Curiously enough the song has two accepted titles: titles:

Power of Soul and Power to Love.

Therefore, the Power of Soul and the Power to Love are one and the same.

Jesus said god is love which means that god is metaphysical gravity.

I think jesus also said, "with god, all things are pssible."

Maybe that's what Jimi was singing about, albeit in a somewhat different cultural context and perspective.

What is gravity? Metaphorically speaking - and, keep in mind that all that is, is metaphor - gravity is a connective force. gravity is the process that "orders" the observed relationships between all the material "stuff" in the universe.

love is the connective force/process that orders the relationship between individuals, the clusters in which they form, as well as our greater relationships with thebiosphere and the universe at large.

Nanotechnology reeks of potential to manipulate material relationships at a quantum level with a new degree of creative freedom found within the accepted "objective" confines and limitations of immutable (yet evolving and expanding) physical law.

I humbly suggest that a new alchemy will emerge from the ongoing, accelerating collective natural evolution of human consciousness that will (metaphorically speaking, of course) illuminate the ovelap between the "spiritual truth" encoded in the symbols and language of mythical and mystical texts and the "physical truth" encoded in the symbols and language of the binary logic underlying our scientific method.

What's the difference between fact and fairy tale, myth and reality? Is "love" more real than the dead gods of civilizations long past? Is it as "real" as, say...... money?

Money's real, isn't it?

Or is it?

I further (tangentially)suggest that our concept of money and our practical daily interaction with said currency is participation in a fairy tale no more believable than the idea that the earth is flat or, better yet, that there's a guy who lives on the North Pole and wears a red suit and commandeers a toy-laden sleigh pulled by flying reindeer.

The value of our currency is backed by nothing more than the "good faith and credit" of the USof A. What does that mean? It means it only exists and has value as long as Uncle Sam is viewed as faithful, credible and capable of honoring future debt. Once that was a reasonable assumption and so, like the flat-earth fairy tale, it served the times well enough. Even after a child comes to the realization that Santa Claus is a mythical character in a vast benevolent conspiracy, that child is often likely to keep the truth to himself and play along with the fairy tale for fear that if he comes clean and exposes the collapse of his faith in the face of reason, the presents will no longer be delivered.

Eventually there comes a time when we must abandon our childish ways, as our new prez has suggested. Maybe that should include abandoning the fairytale belief that our level of personal and collective consumption is not bound our finite resources and finite productivity, that if we merely keep printing and spending and creating greater debt this obvious irresponsible fiscal insanity somehow magically turn into a yellow brick road leading to the Magical Land of economic Stability and Solvency.

So money's a fairy tale, and since I've never had much faith in the "good faith and credit" of the self-serving central banks that control the supply of currency, and I've yet to stuble upon any evidence of an anthropomorphic, omnipotent supernatural patri/matriarch, the only fairy tale left for me at the moment is that of the Power to Love, as it is personally tangible, observable, verifiable, experiential, enduring, potentially infinite, loads of fun to embrace, and full of beauty and color and texture beyond spectrums defined or even imagined.

Thusfar in my fleeting existence, for the whole of my life, the best and worst of times, the fiercest storms and darkest days, the Power to Love has always seen me through. without Exception.



Love is Real. Not Fade Away.

It's a song lyric.

It's a universal spiritual truth.

It's a fairy tale.

Pick your own poison.


Life is short but oh so sweet and I'd rather spend it seeing what I can create with the attractive connective Power to Love as opposed to what I can buy with money or destroy with fear and hate.


Love cannot be taxed, confiscated, stolen, bought or sold. It can only be exchanged freely, but as we become more efficient love machines/vessels/conduits/mindful directors of said Power, we will become aware of its inherent self-generating abundance.


That's my fairy tale, and I'm living it until i decide to do otherwise, which could happen at any time since the tale, like the universe itself, is subject to change.

Sometimes change is smooth and constant, other times chaotic and jerky and neck-snappy. A good thrill ride gives you both and more. So does a sizable sampling of historically popular dance moves. The cozmik deejayz got a stack of discs that we can only imagine, and you never know what might get slipped on the turntable next; today's minuet may become tomorrow's mosh pit without a moment's notice.

Interesting times call for flexibility, adaptability, versatility and endurance.



"When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."

I'm currently employed as a Self-certified Professional Weirdo. Like the fairy tale world in which I live (and/or the recipe for intergalactic(Con)fusion Stew) my job description is always under construction and subject to constant fluctuation and mutation. i have shaped my aluminum fedora to resemble whatever headgear might be appropriate for virtual festival organizer/court jester/second-rate stand-up opening act hired to warm up the crowd for the main event. The mayans say I'm a monkey and the Hopi call me coyote. My friends and family have always called me, simply, "Josh." Jester/Prankster/Trickster/Joke(st)er/Josh-er and/or maybe just another silly sentimental Fool, for only a fool bets it all on love. Whoever I am and whatever my function, allow me to formally and humbly invite you to meet me on the dance floor in the Free Metaphysical Market Square, where love is legal tender, change is celebrated and mutation embraced, and the Music Never Stops. Together we will choreograph a poly- rhythmic our own ofdd-metered hyperspacial jitterbug.



peace y'all.