Bad-to-the-Bone Bugsy and Bubbles in the Sea

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All Bubbles made up of illusory constitution, will certainly burst in due course of time

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Bugsy is a big-bully boxer, who thinks he is the lord of all he surveys in his little self-projected universe, floating in the junkyard of Toledo, Ohio. Speedy-go is a pint-sized miniature-pincher, who is bad-bone’s perennial sidekick. Bugsy carries himself proudly with a narcissistic glow of being the “bubba-bad-to-the-bone” bone-crusher in his frequent altercations with other dogs and cats, always emerging as “top dog” in his little universe, his junk yard bubble, nestled within that minuscule speck of dirt called Toledo.

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Actually, Bugsy is a character I gleaned from a cartoon dog that I briefly witnessed on the idiot box, while doing our clothes in a Laundromat, and catching a few jokes here and there with my kids, [3 and 6 at the time.] The first scene was bad-to-the-bone and Speedy-go strutting down a sidewalk on the out-skirts of the junkyard, where Bugsy swaggered his pompous bluster, and Speedy pranced about Bugsy like the loyal sycophant that he was, groveling like a slave to Bug’s frequent and extravagant urges, Speedy swashing a lickspittle to bad-to-bone’s every whim, a flattering lionizer of Bug’s towering vainglory. Speed felt such honor to be dastardly-bone’s chief lackey, a green-hued toady to bug-a-boo’s never-sated fancies. If there ever was one, Speedy-go was his obsequious doormat, his undying bootlicker … Speedy-go worshipped every muscle flex of bad-to-the-bone’s brawny physique … kowtowing to his ever desire.

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It so happened … that one momentous day came, there appeared upon the distant horizon of the darn bugger’s rotten luck … a harbinger of cruel fate, wherein the bad-to-once-bones had at last met his five-star match, he’d finally met his one-in-a-mill one-ups-man-dude, who came to re-arrange his world, [what to speak of rearranging his face!] … bad-bones had met his upscale superior, he stands overshadowed by a black-hearted pit-bull,

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who proceeds to pound the used-to-be-bad into a pish-posh pulp. For some strange reason, [most likely a classical case of brain dementia] battered-bones thought it was speedy-go who bested him in feisty-cuffs, for he was blinded from the volley of punches flying upon his head, and when the horrendous battering subsided, and his eyes slowly opened, and painfully re-focused again, it was speedy there in his direct vision, flexing his muscles.

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And so it seemed to cold-cocked-to-dust-bones, that speedy perpetrated this pummeling upon his be-dazzled head, and from then on, it was not-so-bad-bones who pandered to speed’s every whim. It is now the once glorious beaten-bones, who will bow and scrape to little speed’s capricious idiosyncrasies, at his every behest. Speedy sashayed the sidewalk like a king with retinue, and buggered-bugsy danced and pranced all about speedy like a true sycophant, his prior precious bubble had burst asunder, never to be seen again.

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Who will be our next contestant in Goddess Durga’s bubble game? Who’s bubble will float the longest before the trident from Durga-Devi’s hand pierces it? Who is the next winner of the Devi-Dhama lottery game of “who is the real lord” of this wonderful world we survey, please stand up … and claim your prize, which is a certifiable reinforced bubble of a lasting longevity nature.

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We hit the pause button here in our narrative, with this introspective thought — every embodied being somehow thinks that his bubble is of the “lasting longevity nature.” Every contestant in Durga-Devi’s game thinks he is entitled to a long lasting bubble, even though the analogy tells us that such bubbles are likened to bubbles in the froth of the sea, and are prone to be broken apart by the constant waves of time, and thus the nature of such a bubble is … gulp … brevity.

Om Tat Sat

Notes- The bursting of one’s bubble does not always mean death, more often it means the end of a temporary illusion created by maya, wherein the disillusioned jiva soul thinks himself to be very important and controller of his little world.

The following verse is taken from Srimad Bhagavatam, 5th Canto, the discussion between Jada Bharata and Maharaja Rahugana, wherein the great brahmana Jada Bharata explains that a king in the next life can be the servant, and the servant will be the king, and these are temporary circumstances [bubbles] by the will of providence.

“My dear King, you have unnecessarily accused me of being dead though alive. In this regard, I can only say that this is the case everywhere because everything material has its beginning and end. As far as your thinking that you are the king and master and are thus trying to order me, this is also incorrect because these positions are temporary. Today you are a king and I am your servant, but tomorrow the position may be changed, and you may be my servant and I your master. These are temporary circumstances created by providence.” >>> Ref. VedaBase => SB 5.10.11

Item of interest – the first image of bubbles, save it and look at it, at first it appears to be only bubbles, but magnify or zoom in, and look at large bubbles, there are worlds of stories in every bubble, quite the graphics!

Brahma lives one hundred of such “years” and then dies. These “hundred years” by earth calculations total to 311 trillion and 40 billion earth years. By these calculations the life of Brahma seems fantastic and interminable, but from the viewpoint of eternity it is as brief as a lightning flash. In the Causal Ocean there are innumerable Brahmas rising and disappearing like bubbles in the Atlantic. >>> Ref. VedaBase => Bg 8.17

Read “Katz of Hinterland”  a novel – http://tinyurl.com/Katz-Amazon

Order “Katz of Hinterland” from author & get 20% off & a signed copy🙂 order at- vishoka@juno.com

Recommended blogs:

Catterwaul cuts the crap – http://wp.me/p4m90U-dY
Is it Pinkish? – http://wp.me/p4m90U-eg
Willy Wanko – http://wp.me/p4m90U-18
Tolkien in Hinterland – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aC
Mandates of the night sky – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1Z
Rory chap 5 father time – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9U
Coronation of Lord Smithy the Third – http://wp.me/p4m90U-bL
Telling the Gents What to Do – http://wp.me/p4m90U-cK
Winter of my Soul- http://wp.me/p4m90U-i2
Fuehrer-ocious Inferno – http://wp.me/p4m90U-io
Books and stones – http://wp.me/p4m90U-gh
Ramayana becomes Ravayana – http://wp.me/p4m90U-hC
California Dreaming – http://wp.me/p4m90U-eq
Sherlock  chap 1 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-R
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1B
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 3 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-56
Sherlock chap 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-6g
Sherlock chap 4 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aW
Rory chap 1 – Einstein & golden Ratio http://wp.me/p4m90U-4p
Rory chap 2, the law of confusion – http://wp.me/p4m90U-7z
Mind over matter – http://wp.me/p4m90U-2m
Beehive of devotion: http://wp.me/p4m90U-3d
Even children can take part: http://wp.me/p4m90U-5E
Exhortations of Humble Love – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9p
Real Happiness – http://wp.me/p4m90U-ca
Boy Wonder Sacrificed by Guardians- http://wp.me/p4m90U-dx

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Get a copy of Bhagavad Gita at – http://www.asitis.com

Read Bhagavad Gita online – http://www.asitis.com

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Kleaning Kampf-Karma

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It’s the fuehrer-ocious inferno dude, who’s kleaning kampf-karma, with a scoundrel scheme to avoid unfortunate metamorphose, they take a wanderlust walkabout, in the land of light-bearing crystal gifts and velvet poems, and halo-wreathed monks meditating in the midst of oceanic waves of cacophonous howling, and indigo clouds blooming above, and you can be in my dream, if I can be in yours … because the Tambourine man told me so.

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“Its dreamland in the old homestead once again folks,” thus whispered the corny voice in Jeb’s head. He found himself in continuance of the last episode, as if only a few minutes had past. He and Jehrom and Sreejinn were there, same place, same conversation … and Aristo is floating around them like a starship in orbit. Aristotle, the space dog, is silently flying in circles, doing recognizance of the perimeters, making sure no undesirable spirits are lurking about on the fringe. Sreejinn then told his story to a mystified Jeb and Jehrom;

“This all happened,” said Sreejinn, “not so long ago, and then again, it was a long, long time ago, the story of the long life of myself, or they knew me back then as … Asvatta. It sounds like a fairy-tale story, well … that’s sort of what it is.

“The place was known as Bharta Varsa in ancient times, now it’s known as India. The time period was not that long ago, say around the mid 1940’s or so…

“Of course, my friend Jeb, you are wondering how that is possible, seeing how that would make me an old geezer. That’s part of the story, the ongoing saga of Asvatta, the ancient wanderer … let me begin.

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“He awakened that morning and dressed, did his morning duties, and started walking. Asvatta, the wanderer of endless time and space … began another dawn of destiny.

“He followed the voice within, just as he always did countless times in the past. This time the voice told him to walk to the north, to go to Kashmir, and trek into the mountains. He traveled along the bank of the Ganges, passing hermitages and sages on mats of kusa grass, some with white holy markings on their foreheads, and some with shaved heads, and some with long matted hair, some with eyes closed in deep meditation, and some murmuring on prayer beads. All sages appeared to be in a trance, oblivious to the outside world.

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“He finally reached the town of Hardwar and entered the perimeters, following a crowd of pilgrims. Seeing a commotion ahead, he wormed through the crowd, to see what was going on. There he pushed to the front of the crowd, and saw a band of foreigners upon the path. They were strangely attired with European coats and the swastika symbol on sleeve, curiously pointing in a clock-wise direction. Asvatta had seen this sign many times at Vedic sacrifices, in the proper counter clock direction. This, he thought, is what caused all the commotion. Asvatta suddenly felt a pang of distress run through his body, which seemed to be invisible barbs of energy coming from the enigmatic figure of the leader.

“Asvatta approached the group and inquired as to why they donned this symbol. He stood patiently as a soldier conveyed his question to the leader, who then turned around to examine him. His eyes penetrated the wanderer for a good amount of time and then the leader said something into the ear of the servant. His servant then walked up to Asvatta, relaying a message from his master, that he would be pleased to have his company for dinner, shortly. Asvatta gave his acceptance, as he glanced back to the master, who was still surveying him with an incisive gaze.

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“Asvatta entered the master’s tent and sat cross-legged before his desk.

“Namaste,” welcomed the master, with thick accent.

“Asvatta met the harden gaze of his host, whose crow black hair, combed straight over, and a peculiarly trimmed and thick mustache accented a stone-cold stare.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Asvatta with polished English. “Asvatta is my name.”

“Yes, pardon, Adolf’s my name, world conquest’s my game,” he said with a jab at humor. It seemed that Asvatta possessed a chameleon charm to swing an ashen gravity mood to a copasetic hue of mirth.

“The master continued, “As they say in the western world, I’m head-honcho of the superman tribe … and some people are trying to make me the head-less honcho, heh heh.”

“Ah,” said Asvatta, “A refreshing spot of humor there, after what you’ve been through.…”

“Being serious all the time can get you killed, you know.” the master said.

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“In more ways than we can know.”

“I’m just a regular guy like everybody else. I got problems like other people do.”

“I can imagine that’s so … well.”

“Then the master turned a shade more serious and said, “A stranger I am … in your land, searching for a guide, seeking astral advise from planets and signs…”

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“We’ll see what we can do.”

“I am in need of knowing … things of the future,” he continued, “I’ve tried other methods of divination, the ancient Teutonic practice of pouring lead for prediction, mandalas, astrologers, seers….”

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“Inquiry? … into the ways of providence?”

“Yes. Barely escaping coup de’tat, I slipped away to India, looking for astrologers … those who see into the future.”

“Fortunate you are,” said Asvatta. “To arrive at the right place and exactly at the right time. India is more than snake charmers, some adepts hold the science of the stars within the palm of their hands … the art of divination. Thank your lucky stars, one such astrologer sits before you.”

“The master’s eyes sparkled with this information, and said, “I barely escaped with a thread of life. Assassins seemed to shoot up out of the dark. What lies ahead?”

“Omens do foretell.”

“Meaning?”

“Cleaning up a little kampf karma?”

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“Karma what?”

“Never mind … pray tell your fear of the future … and something will portend.

“How shall it portend, pray tell?”

“Let us survey your palm, and we’ll see how the future waxes in the stars.”

“The stone cold eyes of the master widened in anticipation, as he gazed evenly upon his company, and said, “I slipped into your country incognito, with a few friends and guards. Things have turned for the worst. I need guidance from the seers. Enemies pummel at my door.”

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After a brief hesitation, the master scrutinized his visitor and said in a low tone, “Besides the astral consultation, I am also in search of something valuable, a spear reputed to be of divine powers.”

“Asvatta’s arching eyebrows seemed to say, “What spear is this?” and then he said, “I thought you already had one.”

“But there’s another, it’s said to be infused with the power of a demigod, and two are better than one. Anyway, we’ll talk of that later.” After a pause, the master said with raised eyebrows, “You seem to know a lot about me…”

“We have our ways. Some adepts of India do very well seeing into the future … we have no need for crystal balls.”

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“Asvatta took a few minutes to do his calculations. It was obvious that he was a master at his craft by the speed of his mathematical prowess. “So, we see, by your sudden fate line change, and by examination of jhotir, I … I am fain to say, I am the harbinger of foul news, Herr Fuehrer.”

“His eyes turned plaintive, seeming to say, “Out with it….”

“There is no doubt of it, this life, alas, the curtain may be dropping, the final act commences, the fat lady singeth, the last of the Mohicans drops the hatchet, just as the sun sets exactly on time,

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setting also in the East this time, everything ends on it’s own schedule, all good things come to an end, as will the war and…..”

“Adolf’s eyes flashed with a penetration that could wilt the snows of Mount Everest. The thought of being hurled from the tent by the mere heat in those eyes, crossed Asvatta’s mind.

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“What means thou by Mohican hatchet? The sun sets when?”

“Never mind, sorry about that, please Herr Fuehrer, kindly contain the heat in thine eyes, burn me not … it is no one’s fault, this happens to every man, in due course of time….”

“You’re right,” said the man, “it happens to every man, you are right, sorry, it’s just that so many plans are unfulfilled,” and then he turned down the burning gaze … which flickered and went cold.

“Then Asvatta said, “Every man says that at the end, how his plans are undone.” Somehow Asvatta regained the master’s confidence, and cast his chart again, and encouraged him, saying “Do not protest too much, Herr Fuehrer, plans may be foiled in the here and now, but they might be rekindled and they just may well turn out again … on the other side.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is … nobody ever really dies … when death occurs, one is sure to be reborn, and adjustments can be made, with help from those on the other side.”

“I have heard of the soul, from your ancient texts, some I have read. And there are helpers from the other side, you say, but how is that going to help me and my plans?”

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“I see from your chart, your next birth may have its consequences, but your consciousness will remain intact. And with one’s original mind intact, one may still promote one’s designs.”

“How so?”

“You may again take it up … where you left off.”

“How is it possible?”

“Have you heard of yogis?, and how they have this power … called mystic power?”

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“Yes, I’ve heard many tales of this, in your land,” said the Fuehrer, “they live for hundreds of years. They can become smaller than an insect or as large as whales, or change their shape to any form, or travel to the sun or moon in an instant. I have heard.”

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“It is all true, I assure you. Here’s the deal. I only ask for a little faith, that’s all.”

“Well, ok, I guess I don’t have many options, do I?”

“You shall procure someone … who can follow you into the other side….”

“To the other side?”

“Yes, this is possible. A yogi can follow…”

“Herr Hitler said, “So what is to happen, am I to convince some such yogi to … uh, follow me, or meet me there, or what?”

“I will consult you on how. One such yogi could possibly save you from unfortunate metamorphose.”

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“How can that be? Can karma be changed?”

“He may well do that. Just as one such yogi is adept at shape-change, he could help you in a similar fashion. He could clean up your karma. You might begin your campaign again.”

“Herr Hitler’s face perked up a little.

“You are in luck, you can go to Kumbha Mela and search out such a yogi, I will direct you.”

“His eyes gave answer enough. Agitation gone, they again shone with a misty vision … eyes that shine in the truth of astrology and the mystic sciences, eyes that behold the horizon, with which to burn enemies, and see death and rebirth, which foresees victory in the hereafter.”

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More of this in “Katz of Hinterland”  a novel – http://tinyurl.com/Katz-Amazon

Order “Katz of Hinterland” from author & get 20% off & a signed copy 🙂 order at- vishoka@juno.com

Recommended blogs:

Catterwaul cuts the crap – http://wp.me/p4m90U-dY
Is it Pinkish? – http://wp.me/p4m90U-eg
Willy Wanko – http://wp.me/p4m90U-18
Tolkien in Hinterland – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aC
Mandates of the night sky – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1Z
Rory chap 5 father time – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9U
Coronation of Lord Smithy the Third – http://wp.me/p4m90U-bL
Telling the Gents What to Do – http://wp.me/p4m90U-cK
Winter of my Soul- http://wp.me/p4m90U-i2
Fuehrer-ocious Inferno – http://wp.me/p4m90U-io
Books and stones – http://wp.me/p4m90U-gh
Ramayana becomes Ravayana – http://wp.me/p4m90U-hC
California Dreaming – http://wp.me/p4m90U-eq
Sherlock  chap 1 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-R
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1B
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 3 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-56
Sherlock chap 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-6g
Sherlock chap 4 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aW
Rory chap 1 – Einstein & golden Ratio http://wp.me/p4m90U-4p
Rory chap 2, the law of confusion – http://wp.me/p4m90U-7z
Mind over matter – http://wp.me/p4m90U-2m
Beehive of devotion: http://wp.me/p4m90U-3d
Even children can take part: http://wp.me/p4m90U-5E
Exhortations of Humble Love – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9p
Real Happiness – http://wp.me/p4m90U-ca
Boy Wonder Sacrificed by Guardians- http://wp.me/p4m90U-dx

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Get a copy of Bhagavad Gita at – http://www.asitis.com

Read Bhagavad Gita online – http://www.asitis.com

The Apple draws the Earth

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I noticed a man sitting beneath the tree. I recognized him to be the esteemed nobleman, Sir Isaac Newton. It was then that I accidentally dislodged an apple from it’s branch and it dropped on his head. I heard him exclaim, “Ouch, damn it all!”

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“Sreejinn, what about you interacting with big historical figures, and maybe doing things that might have changed history? Like being Hitler’s gardener and cook? Could you have changed history through some kind of intervention? Could that have been the right thing to do? You may have had an opportunity to change events that would have turned history upside down?

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“Well Jeb, yes, I intervened in one instance, for the sake of friends. The past, present, and future’s like an open book to me, I saw what was coming, what needed to be done. Yes, maybe I could have done something more drastic, could have changed history, but that’s like on your TV show, Star Trek, Kirk had to follow the prime directive, and not to mess with the natural events of the alien world, or the change could be worse than the original events. It’s very tacky, very dangerous to mess with time-lines. I did that a few times, but got very bad dreams about it. So I stopped thinking that way. Like the time I tripped Charlemagne and he dropped the spear of destiny. And so he lost the war, and I had to do a quick identity change to escape punishment, I quickly morphed into a filthy beggar on the street — that one always worked. I had nightmares for weeks after that little episode.

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Another time, I was running from an angry mob, because I was caught up in a Royal scandal with the wife of a Duke, which wasn’t my doing. Again, I was innocent, in the wrong place at the wrong time. So, I ran up this gangplank and hid in some empty cargo box, on this ship. It turned out to be the Santa Maria, and we all set off to sea, our captain was Christopher Columbus. The Nina and Pinta followed right behind. I became a regular deck hand, and fortunately they never detected that I was a stowaway. Good thing too, or they would have thrown me overboard. Of course I couldn’t die, I would have had to swim for days, or weeks, to get back to land or some island. I would not have enjoyed that very much, you know, fighting off sharks and electric eels and stingrays and so on, there’s no way I could die, it wasn’t possible. So, we sailed into the western horizon for weeks, and food and water were starting to get scarce, and the men were grumbling, and were on the verge of mutiny. Columbus was confronted with a mutinous party of desperate crew men, and he was just about to turn back, when I told him to keep going. I assured him that we were almost there, land was just a short hop and skip away, and so I stopped the mutiny. How did I know? I knew, because I sailed to the Americas before, with the Vikings. I could navigate by the stars, and calculated that we were very near to land. Within a few minutes, we heard a loud “land ahoy!!” from the crow’s nest above, and we made land in small boats, and Columbus fell to the ground and kissed the soil with tears streaming from his eyes. We made friends with the Indians, and Pocahontas took a liking to me, and Columbus got jealous — it got a little nasty. My youthful and handsome looks were always getting me in trouble with love triangles, and jealous noblemen, no matter how much I tried to avoid it. I had to run off and live incognito with the Indians for a while.

There was another time; I was running from a jealous Lord, once again a noble’s wife got inebriated at some party and flirted with me, and so I had to run from the Lord and his men. And so I swiftly climbed a large tree to hide, and they ran by, shouting and cursing. After many hours in the camouflage of the tree leaves, I noticed a man sitting beneath the tree. I recognized him to be the esteemed nobleman, Sir Isaac Newton. It was then that I accidentally dislodged an apple from it’s branch and it dropped on his head. I heard him exclaim, “Ouch, damn it all!”

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Then I said in a low tone that he could barely hear, “Why does the apple fall in a straight line to the ground? Why does it not go sideways or upwards, but to the Earth’s centre? Because the Earth draws it. Yeah, that’s why. There is a drawing power in matter. And matter draws matter in proportion of its quantity. The apple draws the Earth, and the Earth draws the apple. Oh yeah, that is what’s called a law of nature.” He must have thought this was his intuitive mind formulating this brilliant concept. He then ran off to his study to write down this flash of genius. The rest is history.

from “Katz of Hinterland,” a novel – http://tinyurl.com/Katz-Amazon

“Katz of Hinterland” is mostly about how Hitler commissioned a yogi to follow him into the “other side” of his next life, and such yogi has the power to reinstate Hitler into his former human body, mustache and all, so that he can start his nazi mission once again. Well, big surprise … 🙂

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Recommended blogs:
Catterwaul cuts the crap – http://wp.me/p4m90U-dY
Is it Pinkish? – http://wp.me/p4m90U-eg
Willy Wanko – http://wp.me/p4m90U-18
Tolkien in Hinterland – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aC
Mandates of the night sky – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1Z
Rory chap 5 father time – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9U
Coronation of Lord Smithy the Third – http://wp.me/p4m90U-bL
Telling the Gents What to Do – http://wp.me/p4m90U-cK
Sherlock  chap 1 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-R
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1B
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 3 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-56
Sherlock chap 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-6g
Sherlock chap 4 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aW
Rory chap 1 – Einstein & golden Ratio http://wp.me/p4m90U-4p
Rory chap 2, the law of confusion – http://wp.me/p4m90U-7z
Mind over matter – http://wp.me/p4m90U-2m
Beehive of devotion: http://wp.me/p4m90U-3d
Even children can take part: http://wp.me/p4m90U-5E
Exhortations of Humble Love – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9p
Real Happiness – http://wp.me/p4m90U-ca
Boy Wonder Sacrificed by Guardians- http://wp.me/p4m90U-dx

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Fuehrer-ocious Inferno

 

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“Katz of Hinterland” is mostly about how Hitler commissioned a yogi to follow him into the “other side” of his next life, and such yogi has the power to reinstate Hitler into his former human body, mustache and all, so that he can start his nazi mission once again. Well, big surprise … 🙂 for better view than email, click here – http://wp.me/p4m90U-io

God is an equal karma opportunity employer

“So who is the real primal cause of WW2?, it’s the investors who made money off the war, and Hitler and his cronies were just pawns, and so why is history silent on the daddy warbucks? Because they controlled the newspapers, the media of lies and propaganda and cover-ups. But, karma got them in the end, and the toll was much higher … as God is an equal karma opportunity employer. He is the biggest kid on the block, and nobody gets away with anything, there is no hiding or subterfuge or cover-up in the afterlife, the ways of karma knows all.”

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Jeb and the fellowship sat around dreamland campfire, as moonshine shimmered across silver flatlands of the dreamscape-sea. Gulls flew in symmetrical synchronicity around the fire. Aristo surfed the thick ocean air like a flying caricature pig on a pink-floyd album cover. And then Hans suddenly popped through the psycho-relic wall to join the fireside party, and he began to relate his preternatural news…

Hans story-told, “This foreboding spirit, I call him “the blackman,” well, he’s been trampling all over my dreams. It’s a perpetual horrid nightmare, he’s so dark, full of evil and rage, demanding some payback from me. I’m always terrified at his sight. And then something really weird happened one night dream, he appeared in a grayish robe, the darkness replaced by a glimmer of light, a benefic glow in his eyes and demeanor. The rage was all gone, he appeared tranquil and equipoised, not like his old self at all. A grayish cloth wrapped round his torso and around his neck hung a necklace with a peace symbol pendant dangling thereon, and he was gibbering about the songs of whales, and sputtering green-peace catch-phrases like ‘save the whales,’ … trite things like that.”

“So I asked him, why the sudden ethical overhaul? He said that he’d been talking to other spirits who were enlightened and they were telling him some very heavy things, and he was remembering his past lives, and he had seen the extent of his punishment in clearer light now, that it’s possible for entities to attain redemption …. to change their destructive path, for it’s never too late.

“He told me his sordid ghost history of all these odious things that befell him. He told how his astral body sometimes hovered over some trees and detested a colony of wild cats, especially this black cat residing out in the woods. And sometimes his astral body would wander around the spirit world, in this shape of this black person … and sometimes he remembered his past lives.

Then I asked, “well, who were you before all this kitty-poop hit the proverbial fan?” He said, with reluctance, that he remembered his uniform and arm insignia, it seems he was a military officer in his former life. After swallowing several lumps in my throat, it occurred to me …I got an inkling that perhaps this was my master coming back into flesh, though I didn’t want to believe it. I told myself it was only a dream, don’t let a dream get you down. I was thinking that he didn’t want to believe it either, and he was grabbling with the reality for a long time, or else he wasn’t inclined to tell me the truth all at once. Well, he finally came clean with me and told me he was pretty much the Fuehrer reincarnate, in some weird flesh casing, and also this ghostly apparition … but he told me not to worry, even though it was a bitter pill to swallow. It didn’t seem to me like the grandest re-entry of my master, back from the dead, but I came to grips with it in a while, thinking maybe still everything would continue as planned. Then he told me about the hell part….”

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“Hans took a moment’s pause, as his audience sat with ear antennas tuned in, and Hans continued…

“It seems that blackman had to pay for the bad things he did, before getting anything good, if there was any good. They explained it like that. He had to pay, just like everybody has to pay. The afterlife spirits told him, that’s how things work. They said that every departed soul must reap karma for the number of other souls vanquished in his earthly life, he must pay for the lives taken before their time, if he was in any way responsible for their early demise, including animals and other living things, not just humans, he must pay … and often it involves a stint in hell, temporary hellish punishments. Then he described all the sordid details of how he went to hell …the road he traversed to the destiny of hell, and how long it went on.”

“I was under the impression,” said Jeb, “that hell wasn’t a temporary arrangement, or at least this is the common belief.”

“Oh, I know, but it gets real complicated,” said Hans, “they told him that hell wasn’t eternal, but in another way it’s eternal, or it that it seems eternal. I know it sounds nuts, and I trying to get a handle on it too…”

“So, the blackman recounted all the revolting details to my ears,” continued Hans, “as he said that he was in a great darkness, there was a pitch blackness in all directions, like he was floating in outer space with no stars or moon. And then a road appeared before him that faded off into infinity. There appeared some ghastly characters with bright red hair that sprouted out of their heads like these spiked-hair geeks you see in the city. Their facial features were contorted into grisly masks of horror, worse than those Freddy Kruggar movies.

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“The miscreants grabbed him from all sides as they emitted loud shrieks, and he fought them in vain as they yanked and dragged him down the road at a unrelenting pace, as ferocious hounds of hell appeared from the shadows, barking through wicked canines. They tore at his flesh with maws of steel, again and again …and he stumbled and fell again and again, crying out pitiably, losing consciousness from the pain, then jolting out of comatose to a searing pain again. There upon the snarling hounds of hell tore him apart, again and again, a perpetual horror upon horrors, and he could not die though he desired to.

“The torturous road stretched out into space, shrouded in darkness, as raging bon fires consumed the path on all sides, making flesh bake. The conflagration roared on all sides of the road, baking the hot sand and burning feet, and he stumbled and fell again and again from the extreme heat, losing consciousness, just to re-awaken to fresh torture from the ripping teeth of the hell hounds. The copper-haired freaks dragged him down this burning road of perdition, as the road stretched out forever … into a darkness of oblivion…

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“It seemed like hell went on for forever, but in reality, it was only a few minutes. Things are not what they seem in the afterworld. Time is a tricky concept there. A few moments might seem like years. And besides, the torture part of hell is a bit redundant, and the true lessons of karma are more effectively learned in the future lives to come, where every tooth for tooth is well reckoned, where the soul lives out the injustices that he impinged upon others. So, after a while, the torture ebbed away, and the blackman’s ravaged subtle body was dragged the nape of his ghostly neck to a regal looking person sitting on a high throne, who lectured him about his karma and suffering and gave advise of how to change it.”

Then, the blackman passed into a spirit limbo world were disembodied spirits loitered about, in all kinds of shapes. They are everywhere in the regular world, but people can’t see them. Blackman avoided them at first, but he seemed to have all the time in the world, and after an in terminal period of boredom, he accosted some spirits, and they shared their past.

Some spirits were evolved in wisdom and they told him the truth of hell and karma. It seems that hell is not eternal as men seem to think, and in a way it seems eternal. All souls are like diamonds embedded within a hard covering of coal, for a very long time. But after a certain span of time the coal covering may be chipped away and broken off, by flickers of spirit illuminations, and the brilliant diamond of the soul comes out. Blackman saw that perhaps he would get another chance, for the soul pays for past karma for a certain time in extreme hell, and then comes back to the world of flesh, or the limbo spirit side, and then he goes up or down on the suffering scale, depending on his actions of doing good or bad. He finally saw the suffering in the ether world and the physical world; he had a change of heart. The spirits convinced him to change his karma and do well for others, because it’s never too late to change and make right to one’s past and change the future. This is what he was telling me.”

Jeb said, “I don’t think the world is going to change it’s opinion about him, no matter how much he changes. He is a condemned person.”

“True, and his subtle body and mind will carry his karma to his next life,” said Sreejinn, “and he could be the same kind of person, if he maintains that mentality. But, if this is true what Hans is saying, if hell and the spirits could change him, then he can have redemption, just like all other souls in the material world. No one soul is condemned for some eternal punishment, all souls can be redeemed eventually. Otherwise, what is the point? If everyone is cemented by fate, if nobody can change, then what is the meaning of free will or being human? Perhaps the severe hell jail time is over for him, but the karma and suffering comes in other ways, going on life after life. So it’s like a perpetual hell in a way. It goes on for him, like it does for everyone else, until he decides to change his ways.

“However, it is normal for souls in ethereal bodies, or in the womb, to have profound spiritual realizations, and then to forget what they learned as soon as they are cast out of the womb and enter the world. They mostly forget all they learned and revert back to their former karmic consciousness.”

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“Besides that,” said Jehrom, “this claim that he is the most evil person in history? Well, history is relative to geography, there were other persons who are more despised in other parts of the world, who’s wreaked more death than Hitler, like Stalin, who silenced 50 million, and Mao Tse-tung who caped a 100 mill, and so many holocausts which soaked the earth with blood. And there are those in the background, the financial backers of Hitler, the ones who financed the war, they are also culpable for crimes to humanity. If not for them, it couldn’t have happened. There were many revolutionary types in history, who did nothing because they didn’t have capital for war machines. Hitler couldn’t have done squat without the big bankrollers, like all those tanks and guns and ammunition don’t appear out of thin air, so who is the real primal cause of WW2?, it’s the investors who made money off the war, and Hitler and his cronies were just pawns, and so why is history silent on the daddy warbucks? Because they controlled the newspapers, the media of lies and propaganda and cover-ups. But, karma got them in the end, and the toll was much higher … as God is an equal karma opportunity employer. He is the biggest kid on the block, and nobody gets away with anything, there is no hiding or subterfuge or cover-up in the afterlife, the ways of karma knows all.”

from “Katz of Hinterland,” a novel – http://tinyurl.com/Katz-Amazon

“Katz of Hinterland” is mostly about how Hitler commissioned a yogi to follow him into the “other side” of his next life, and such yogi has the power to reinstate Hitler into his former human body, mustache and all, so that he can start his nazi mission once again. Well, big surprise … 🙂

BookKatzCover

Recommended blogs:
Catterwaul cuts the crap – http://wp.me/p4m90U-dY
Is it Pinkish? – http://wp.me/p4m90U-eg
Willy Wanko – http://wp.me/p4m90U-18
Tolkien in Hinterland – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aC
Mandates of the night sky – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1Z
Rory chap 5 father time – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9U
Coronation of Lord Smithy the Third – http://wp.me/p4m90U-bL
Telling the Gents What to Do – http://wp.me/p4m90U-cK
Sherlock  chap 1 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-R
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1B
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 3 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-56
Sherlock chap 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-6g
Sherlock chap 4 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aW
Rory chap 1 – Einstein & golden Ratio http://wp.me/p4m90U-4p
Rory chap 2, the law of confusion – http://wp.me/p4m90U-7z
Mind over matter – http://wp.me/p4m90U-2m
Beehive of devotion: http://wp.me/p4m90U-3d
Even children can take part: http://wp.me/p4m90U-5E
Exhortations of Humble Love – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9p
Real Happiness – http://wp.me/p4m90U-ca
Boy Wonder Sacrificed by Guardians- http://wp.me/p4m90U-dx

Ramayana becomes Ravayana

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Chapter 5 of “Sherlock Holmes and the Tweaking of Time”

“Re-writing world history is a demanding job”

 

“Tri-kala-jna? Oh yes!” exclaims Moriarty, “Master of past, present and future, that I will become! Precisely, I will be the greatest Philosopher of all time!”

Thereafter, Moriarty recruits some old Professor buddies of his, some philologist and linguistic scholars from Oxford University. Promising them the adventure of a lifetime, Moriarty dispatches them via the time machine into the past & future. Some are teleporting to the age of Lord Rama and Ravana, to the Isle of Sri Lanka. Some scholars are teleported to the ancient time of Sri Krishna … to the battlefield of Kurushetra … and some are unsuccessfully trying to enter the village of Vrndavan.

Moriarty sends men to find the tunnel to El Dorado and the legends of gold .. and he sends men to different times of past and future ….

“We have news from the El Dorado mission, my Lord,” says Vince. “They say that men are giants in that age, we are like midgets next to them.”

“Well,” said Moriarty, “we’re on a tight schedule, and re-writing world history is a demanding job and my minions must meet my timetable, or all is lost … and losing, that’s not an option … by the way, where are the men I sent to Jaipur?”

Vinny murmured sheepishly, “we were delayed, just a small problem, it seems, my lord, that your men have become hooked on hashish, it is so easy to procure, street vendors are everywhere … and they are sitting around stoned, listening to tales of Sri Krishna in the Mahabharta with a look of wonder and bliss while the local sadhus read from Mahabharata, and they wear a white cloth wrapped around in weird fashion, and have clay marking on their forehead, and thus they have completely forgotten why and how they came to this land of India.”

Moriarty screams, “Dispatch a detail at once to India, and grab them by their necks and shake these poor diluted fools out of their pipe dreams! Then teleport them to me!’

“I fear that the bad news gets a little darker, my lord, it seems that the men we sent to the future, to the 60’s in San Francisco, well, there were these hippies, and our men got turned on to LSD, and some came back, some didn’t, and the men who came back, were attired in tye-dye shirts, beads, long hair, muttering slogans like “peace brother! All power to the people!”

Moriarty quickly decides to take advantage of the situation, and instructed his men to go back to the 60’s and score a batch of LSD, so that he could take the psychedelic drug to the ancient times of the Mahabharta, to the Kurushetra battlefield, so to make it seem that Krishna’s pastimes are pipe dreams, psychotic episodes … “what a brilliant plan,” said Moriarty to himself as a wicked smile adorned his countenance.

As some of Moriarty’s men teleport to the ancient land of Sri Lanka, Sherlock dispatches his trusted man, Orwell, to the same Sri Lanka, as a spy in disguise. Orwell observes the actions of Moriarty’s men, and he writes the story on a paper scroll and hides it under a marble slab in a Siva temple. And thus, a million years later, Sherlock and Chandra and Orwell retrieve the scroll from the same temple and Orwell reads the scroll that he wrote a million years ago, and thus he narrates their adventures;

“Moriarty’s men entered Sri Lanka through a small hole in the gigantic wall that surrounded the city, and then they skulked through lavish boulevards paved with gold, stopping every few feet to gawk in wonder at the incredible structural designs, and statues adorning many mansions dotting the avenues … and they heard loud noises in the sky and looked to see huge Vimana aeroplanes flying overhead. Entering a large park, they see the incomparable beauty of a Goddess, languishing in the midst of the Asoka grove,” and Orwell pauses a moment to interject, “I’ve read the Ramayana many times, and to teleport there and see the actual forms of Sita and Hanuman was incredible.”

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“And so, the dwarfish men see many grotesque monsters, green and orange monstrosities roaming about, some had long necks and legs, and dagger-like teeth. They can no longer hide their presence from the eyes of the monstrous fiends; soon they are captured and dragged into Ravana’s court. Standing there in stuptification, they stare at the inner magnificent courtroom in amazement, especially the surreal spectacle of Ravana’s ten heads, all of which are rhythmically gyrating in hypnotic circles, suddenly expanding as if to encompass the entire room, then all 20 eyes are maliciously gazing through the gateway of our two eyes, into our sizzling brain, as if you were the only one there, their penetrating eyes seem to bore a hole right into our very soul.”

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Ravana said, “where did these delightful little creatures come from? … these green little midgets!, they look so cute and delicious!, they shall be my pre-dinner appetizers … yes, I surmise that their flesh is soft and scrumptious! All my 10 mouths are watering, and my teeth shiver in eagerness, to chomp on the tender little morsels! Cooks, prepare the kitchen to fry these here-said delicacies in celestial ghee!! .. What? Wait a minute, do they speak? Yes little man, give us a few last words, or give us a joke or two … buy some time, before giving us the entrée of your tender flesh! Heh heh.

The midget replied as follows, “Before eating us, oh great one,” he said with a smile, “you might want to hear about our visions of the future … to be more precise, they are the bright and sparkling visions of your illustrious future … your eternal fame.”

Upon hearing these words, Ravana’s countenance suddenly switched from culinary lust to that of wonder and amazement. Then he said, as he signaled with a forefinger for the cooks to hold off a second or two, “But what future has not been revealed to me by my numerous seers, I’ve retained ample astrologers, one for each head!” The other 9 heads turned towards the speaker head and nodded their confirmations.

“But do they see piles of gold in your near future?” said the dwarf, with a smile of utter confidence that the king would compulsively take the bait with great haste, and his captive midget would unceremoniously reel the monster in … hook, line, and sinker …

Taken back a little, Ravana hesitated for a moment to think, and then he retorted with a booming voice, “But I see gold everywhere in my kingdom!”

“But my dear king, is it really enough?” challenged the grinning dwarf … with a smile that threw down a gauntlet challenge to a duel of wits…

Ravana said, “I admit, I don’t always have humongous piles of gold, and I am never sated with the gold that I have. I enjoy 10 thousand maidens in my harem, but there’s never enough gold to cover their luscious bodies to my complete satisfaction.”

“We can help you with that … that is … unless you would rather eat us?

“No, no, I got plenty of flesh, all stocked up on that commodity. My soldiers make sure we have mounds of dead carcasses, stacked up to the sky, and we feed on them for a week or so, then the flesh gets a little rancid, and the crows and vultures are taking over, then we move on to fresher meat, more recent kills … so, let’s talk about that gold, and this better not be some magical trick…”

“Oh no, we would never think to defraud the great Ravana ….. as for payment, we only ask for a few soldiers to help us in a little skirmish we are planning some day in the future.”

“Granted,” said Ravana .. [Rakshakas to fight for Moriarty in the Kurusetra war..]

“There will soon be written a enormous book, a grand saga, that will live throughout the eons of history, by the name of “Ramayana” … wherein the sadhus want to claim that Rama is the hero of that book, and all of history. And so, we shall change that book so as to make you, Ravana, the real hero of Ramayana … we will change the book title to “Ravayana” … 🙂

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Recommended blogs:

Catterwaul cuts the crap – http://wp.me/p4m90U-dY
Is it Pinkish? – http://wp.me/p4m90U-eg
Willy Wanko – http://wp.me/p4m90U-18
Tolkien in Hinterland – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aC
Mandates of the night sky – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1Z
Rory chap 5 father time – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9U
Coronation of Lord Smithy the Third – http://wp.me/p4m90U-bL
Telling the Gents What to Do – http://wp.me/p4m90U-cK
Sherlock  chap 1 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-R
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1B
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 3 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-56
Sherlock chap 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-6g
Sherlock chap 4 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aW
Rory chap 1 – Einstein & golden Ratio http://wp.me/p4m90U-4p
Rory chap 2, the law of confusion – http://wp.me/p4m90U-7z
Mind over matter – http://wp.me/p4m90U-2m
Beehive of devotion: http://wp.me/p4m90U-3d
Even children can take part: http://wp.me/p4m90U-5E
Exhortations of Humble Love – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9p
Real Happiness – http://wp.me/p4m90U-ca
Boy Wonder Sacrificed by Guardians- http://wp.me/p4m90U-dx

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Books and Stones Telltale the Past

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Books and Stones telltale the past

What best endures the ravages of time? The written word or architecture? What gives us the real picture about our past? Was it written manuscripts on parchment and palm leaves that had more impact on history, or was it those great and enigmatic edifices of stone left behind by vanished civilizations?

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Lately there’s been talk about these structures on Mars, especially a face visible from space. There’s been fear and wonder about what this implicates. The imagination can go wild and think of amazing implications that will challenge the reality of a worldview we’ve embraced, very challenging indeed. That’s why it is so secretive and controversial with NASA. It seems that people are very afraid to think of things that might change their view of the world. Recently the movie of going to Mars came out, and the structure was in the movie, and some speculate that NASA wasn’t very happy with it.

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Such a vision on the surface of Mars sets the senses of man agog, his mind races in lightspeed, reeling in wonder … but what about structures on the earth? Have we really understood the ruins left on earth?, and what they implicate? Denial and secrecy may be more of an issue here than the face on Mars. Have we unlocked the secrets of the pyramids? Have we a clue of the Easter island faces staring out in space? Have we fathomed the enigmas of Machu Pichu? The Mayan temples? What’s the story behind the vast labyrinths of Angkor Vat? Who built these mind boggling conundrums and how? A replication of such construction is impossible in our modern day. We sometimes pride ourselves as being so greatly scientifically advanced, but what do we really know what is really going on … on this earth? What to speak of a face on Mars, have we even barely scratched the surface of the meanings of the astounding puzzles on the face of this earth?

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The following information will never be aired in mainstream media and newspapers, because the implications are just too mind boggling, it sticks in the throat, just too hard to swallow for modern man to neatly fit into his preconcieved notions of his world and human history. It beggars the historians to re-think, to re-write, but they are unwilling. Despite resistance and denial, the plain evidence stares us in the face, clear cut and excutiatingly verifiable … a relentless and obdurate statement about the mysterious past of humankind.

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Thousands of years ago, we had no archives, no microfiche machines, no libraries, and so the only method of leaving clues for the future was to leave embedded messages in architecture, or give the written story on palm leaves and parchments. Books and stones – and so what do they tell of the past? Man was always leaving his mark in history in the form of architectureal monuments and the written word. What paints a most vivid picture of the true story of our past? Victor Hugo raises this question in his “Hunchback,” when he talks about the Gutenberg press, 1450, and how this event changed the history of man.

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Before the ink and plates of the Gutenberg press, long before the printing press, a large body of books were kept well in stock for many thousands of years, in the land of India, written on palm leafs. These ancient books of India are known as the Vedas, which date 5,000 years back into antiquity. It is said there are enough books of Vedic literature to fill a basketball stadium. But most are lost (many distroyed by envaders) and yet there is still a large canon of literature of the Vedas in existence. Still, many people in the world do not know of the Vedas, nor believe in the Vedas. The Indologists from the British empire were especially intent upon discrediting the Vedas. They portrayed the Vedas to be somewhat like old comic books, old fables and myths made up by fertile imagination. The ancient scripts even tell of how a Vedic civilization once existed all over the globe! Scoffers beware … restrain your verdict for a minute, and give the following information a chance for digestion.

http://www.hinduismtoday.com/modules/smartsection/item.php?itemid=3433

 

Cruising at Warp 9

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Harrison sits in his propitious literati chair, which is replete with unique cushions and arm-rests — it makes him feel like he’s on the bridge of the Enterprise, cruising at warp 9 in deep space, with the stars flying by on all sides. As he tugs on his red Starfleet uniform, which somehow never feels comfortable, his inner voice whispers, “let the words melt down onto the page, no inhibitions.” And he aims his trusty Excalibur towards the stars in outer space, and with a comical tone of exaggerated authority, he reiterates the proverbial command … “make it so!”

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Am I channeling some spirit? How does one account for inexplicable and grotesque images surfacing from the lagoon of one’s mind? Mutilated cats hung in effigy? Explosions in the sky in time with baroque concertos? Fefe asks the cats about the torture going on in the woods, things that Merle was telling Jeb about, and the cats says it was some transit cats who are demented … a bunch of batty cats who keep to themselves, when not murdering on the sly …

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as they hang out around the northern perimeter of the woods, and render mayhem in the dead of night. I see zany things in my dreams — a man sees a gold hoop affixed to his earlobe — a hawk converses with wildcats, and commiserates over the horrors of body parts strewn all over the woods — and Jeb boy hitches a ride with a hippie on a magical mystery tour bus, and so … what is all that? And there’s a crucified cat hanging in a tree with frenzied guitar solos blaring in tune to fireworks exploding over the Pacific!

But, ya know, I tend to think these things are cool, and I can think that way because it’s not really real, it’s all just a dream. It’s like the Praying Mantis, who is totally creepy, yet way cool at the same time. He’s like a little monster-monk-like insect in a nightmarish cheesy horror movie, where he is a demonic alien descending from the stars, ransacking cities and gorging on the flesh of human carcasses,

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and other times he appears like a monastic priest offering prayers to the heavens. Wanda, she does not like the horror genre kind of flicks, and I look at them once in a while, cause they are not really real — just like the crucified cat in the tree, I think the imagery is cool, cause it’s like the movies, it ain’t real!! It’s all a grand hallucination!

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And if you watch the nature shows once in a while, you will see that the insect kingdom is a much more brutal and horrific in their episodes than human movies — replete with more ghastly murders and dismemberments than the horror reels of these cat dreams. I give special mention to the Praying Mantis and his sometimes fiendish demeanor, and in the next instant he is morphing to monk-like innocence. As the whole world is running here and there in constant struggle for existence, the Mantis cares not for the hustle and bustle of the world, and he moves very slowly and nonchalant and carefree, and self-assured that the world will come to him, with him never lifting a hook-like finger to go to it.

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He assumes a stick-like posture and waits with a smug grin on its face, looking like an monster from outer space, as the unsuspecting food-chain serving steps right into his claws and jaws, which he uses to rip his main course entree asunder. And after dismembering and gorging on the hapless victim — like the religious Mafioso who says grace at the dinner table right after whacking his competitor — the pious Mantis utters a devout prayer with folded hands in supplication and hearty thanks for the bountiful blessings bestowed on him by the almighty Lord of the creepy-crawlies.

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From “Katz of Hinterland,” a novel – http://tinyurl.com/Katz-Amazon

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Recommended blogs:
Catterwaul cuts the crap – http://wp.me/p4m90U-dY
Is it Pinkish? – http://wp.me/p4m90U-eg
Willy Wanko – http://wp.me/p4m90U-18
Tolkien in Hinterland – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aC
Coronation of Lord Smithy the Third – http://wp.me/p4m90U-bL
Telling the Gents What to Do – http://wp.me/p4m90U-cK
Sherlock  chap 1 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-R
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1B
Sherlock  chap 1 pt 3 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-56
Sherlock chap 2 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-6g
Sherlock chap 4 – http://wp.me/p4m90U-aW
Mandates of the night sky – http://wp.me/p4m90U-1Z
Rory chap 1 – Einstein & golden Ratio http://wp.me/p4m90U-4p
Rory chap 2, the law of confusion – http://wp.me/p4m90U-7z
Rory chap 5 father time – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9U
Mind over matter – http://wp.me/p4m90U-2m
Beehive of devotion: http://wp.me/p4m90U-3d
Even children can take part: http://wp.me/p4m90U-5E
Exhortations of Humble Love – http://wp.me/p4m90U-9p
Real Happiness – http://wp.me/p4m90U-ca
Boy Wonder Sacrificed by Guardians- http://wp.me/p4m90U-dx