Monday, March 9, 2009


brains fart and thought-trains derail into misty meadows of mixed metaphor.

so the story goes, and so my faithful and or faithless sisbrahthren, my revelations/alumination and ongoing transmutation have given birth to MANTIS: The Religion.

Now don' get mad, no don. get mad, as Jimi Said as he ejaculated lighter fuel upon his axe...

I know how summa y'all feel/reel abour re-LIJ-un, and I share your sentiments.

All the more reason to embrace MANTIS, for it is both THE religion and the Anti-religion.

And so I struggled hard with whether to pull the trigger on the launch or pull the carpet out from beneath myself and do a backflip/faceplant no points for THAT landing which is why i chose the former and why I have since come to spread the news on this scaly, scrolling blogosaurus skin.

language equals limitation that leads to misunderstanding.

All religions - Nayyyy, sez mister Ed, all belief systems/reality tunnels - are derivative, subjective, finite representations of the infinite.

I'm not here to start a holy war, but rather start and stir a heady pot of holy peas bewitchu stew.

hop into my hot tub and let your essence be infused into the cosmic broth.

all flavors are welcome here. bask in my robbins.

why MANTIS, though?

Chart the flow>

We need words and symbols we can count on that are as reliable and universal as are our (r/r) fingers and toes.

Let us begin our journey from a point of common ground. It's there at our feet, just not everywhere. Watch your step/step lightly, the labial lips of language lead to a slippery slope that slides deep into the cunnilingual chasm of chaotic ambiguity and once you're there you never want to be anyplace else.

arithmetic is common ground. we count on its omniscience and consistency to tell us the time, our weight and our value as measured by bank balance.

let's start with mathematical simplicity, the properties of equality: transitive, reflexive and symmetric.

Reflexive Property a = a
Symmetric Property If a = b then b = a.
Transitive Property If a = b and b = c then a = c.

Given Premise:

Music is music.


"Music is Love."

david crosby speaks the truth


Love is Real

(so does buddy Holly.)


God is Love.

jesus said it, not sure what he meant but i'll buy it for the time being.

is music.

see for yourself:

Therefore, MANTIS IS GOD.

MANTIS also equates to "prophet" in the logos of the ancient Greeks.

There you have as solid a foundation for any belief system you'll ever imagine.

You are free to believe or disbelieve as you Will.

Mantis does not punish the non-believer, the blasphemer, or the doubting Thomas dolby's who've been blinded by science seriousness or sensibility.

MANTIS has but one rule: "you do what you want - whatever!" (merely activate the Power to Love to fuel all you do)

MANTIS is all inclusive; all are welcome in the White Light of divine alumination

MANTIS is the Master who puts the greenness in the grass. MANTIS is the sensational, aluminational, transmutational power to love WITHIN that fuels the evolution of perception and chips the sleepy snotty caked crust from the corner of our Third Eye.

MANTIS is the grinning cheshire cat; the teacher who naps neath hir invisibility cloak until the student pops the question.

MANTTS ISzszszszszszzzz....

MANTIS is a self-replicating rawk and roll revival tent roadshow traveling snake oil caravan and clown cabal circus parade of overindulgent aluminated idiocy and if you missed the last garbage scow express just get in the van and go.

The Universe is all there is by definition, once again, and by observation the universe is an evolving, mutating process-ion that iterates similarity across scale, across space, across history and across the barriers of language and other dualistic delusionary dichotomies. If the universe is everything, than everyting is real and nothing is forbidden and if my nonsensical religion originated here in this universe it is a part of this here universe and is therefore a manifestation, iteration, nano-replication of the universe itself and is therefore REAL and TRUE and ABSOLUTE and UNDENIAABLE. Ive never seen a bush burn or a waterwalker but I've seen the MANTIS pray and the manna fall from the heavens with grace and abundance.

Don't believe me. believe your ears. Don't listen to me. Listen to MANTIS. Don't follow me, follow the music.

MANTIS is the ONE that brung us to the hoedown.

MANTIS is the metaphysical gravity that keeps our pardners from flying off into a black hole void when we swing em round and round without reservation.


but that's enough from me for now.

I'll see you in church (if you sit by the window)

I'll see you at the show if you've no place else to go. til next time happy trails,

peas bewitchU

and lentil spray for a brighter day.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Community (self)Serv-ice(cream), or How To Remain Occupied While waiting For Full Engorgement of the Great Stimulus Package

The mayascopic nanoglyphs that tickled the neural tendrils below the scalp's surface and made my neck hairs get hards-on spoke to me today of "community service" (and "roads" as well btw, which we may travel down if time allows) and naturally the monkey said, "We must wait. mutt, we ain't communists!" but in fact my closet is painted pink in a most metaphorical sense and if we can (Say it, sisbrahthren: YES! WE! CAN!) CHANGE and learn some new tricks my perky puppies, and color our cubicles outside the lines and spectrum of politypical stereotype, and Think/create Different perhaps in muted shades of archetype and drop all preconceived notions that might be associated with a particular label or symbol or word, then let me tell you why i'm a freakin' commie bastid (at least the former; as the latter 'bastid' labeling is a curious tale of false and stolen identity crises/catastrophe catalyzed and catechized by contradictory comedic catholicynicism and 'tis a tale worthy of its own tick) but back on track i'm a commie because i engage in and interact within and throughout a particular community of simultaneous multiple voluntary associations, institutions and organizations. I have conscious and comfortable individualistic, anti-authoritarian (and therefore sometimes anti-social, as authority often imposes willful INvoluntary association/participation) but no man is an island and while i enjoy solitude i also thrive on fellowship and collective celebration and family but what is "community' for me and how best to SERVE?

That is the question, my sisbrahthren, for above all, I cannot deny, i am here for one purpose and one purpose alone, and that is to serve up a heapin helpin of Aluminated Love. And so, once again, my quest is but a brand new menu of the same old shit.

How can the midnight moonlit howl of the coyote or the frivolous playful antics of the monkey be harnessed as the Power to Love and feed and energize across the universal digisphere of humanity. what kind of heart-healthy blue plate comfort food greasy spoon special can i toss like a UFO into the wireless ethernet and have it arrive steaming and tasty upon your virtual lap-dog/dinner-table top?

If we can, in fact as well as fairy tale, serve ourselves/each other via virtual metaphorical flying saucers/pie plates, I'll take mine A LA MODE:

if you giggle chuckle chortle or even smile just a teeny tiny bit

You Have Been Served.

The joke's on me and the rest is on the house.

Soup dejour:

A bottomless bowl - a bubbly bisque of

say it with me:

Peas Bewitchu

optional side of lentil spray.

may i become like a child, julia.

bone ape tit.

Monday, March 2, 2009

The Santa Claus Conspiracy, Part Dew

Let us return to the metaphor of "Santa Claus: Benevolent Conspiracy" as it relates to money and banks and fear and faith.

In the case of Sanity Claus, the conspirators must maintain a sufficient degree of consistency and credibility in their deception in order to perpetuate the conspiracy, to alleviate the doubt and boost the faith of the true believer. Don't ever give them REASON to doubt, for they will surely grasp upon it if the least bit curious, and eventually unravel the whole freakin' fairy tale. Inconsistency was the hobgoblin that swallowed my parents' version of the myth, and its role in my belief system. You can't, on one hand, reward and encourage a child to examine the universe from a scientific, rational, logical western perspective and then try to feed the same child fairy tales about a fat fucker with a flying sleigh.

Cognitive dissonance breeds the questioning of authority and reality.

Unlike myself, when my own children came to the realization that Santa was a crock of shit, they kept their mouths shut. For years. Their faith had been replaced with the fear that if they dared utter the truth, the presents would cease to appear.

They tolerated the deception as long as the gifts came in, we played along as long as the requests were reasonable.

They knew, and we knew that they knew and we all played make-believe and nobody got hurt because everyone played nice. If the players become either greedy or irresponsible, the game collapses.

For the kids, that meant reasonable requests.

For the adults: don't promise what you can't deliver.

The benevolent conspiracy, the Fractured Fairy Tale of Fractional Reserve Lending and debt-based currency is beginning to unravel.

The reason?

In a word, greed.

Unreasonable expectations.

Unrealistic promises.

Prosperity, abundance and the delusion that Santa can deliver whatever our heart desires has turned us into a society that engages in willful co-conspiring year round.

"Where's dinner?"

"Under the tree!"

You can only keep the fairy tale alive as long as you don't try to squeeze too much magic out of it. Everyone's gotta play nice, or else.

We have - both literally and figuratively - bought a little to deeply and selfishly into the myth that we can create something from nothing at all.

We're afraid to call out the allegedly adult co-conspirators for their deception and irresponsible actions, because we've become reliant on their largesse for our very survival.

Our faith has been replaced with the fear that if we dare utter the truth, the gifts under the tree will vanish.

The fairy tale:

Too Big To Fail.

Realty is gravity:


What goes up

Must come down.

Lest ye be spooked by my lunatic howlings, look at the Light Side of the Moon.

Defy gravity with levity.

Spin to the yin that completes the yang.

Decouple your perception of value from the dollar standard.

The Power to Love is an unlimited commodity; adopt it as your currency.

Measured in gigaHugz and delivered in person.

Door to door, face to face, cheek to cheek;

On demand or on the dance floor.

If we all play nice, any myth will suffice.

peas bewitchu

Sunday, March 1, 2009


In like a loon, out like a light?

With another turn of Pope Gregory's calendar page, and glorious Spring peeking out from just around the corner, i thought it apropos to break out some fresh seasonal headgear.

Announcing the Jockey-billed Aluminated Propeller Cap for Spring/Summer '09!

Boys and girls, make your own!