Peregrine over Torrey Pines

Monday, November 8, 2010

Close Encounters

I had first noticed the guy a few months ago. My friends and I were at a reggae concert in town and he was dancing by himself to our right, having a highly involved communion with invisible forces that were obviously beyond my perception. I remember thinking it somewhat odd that he would be wearing the heavy black gloves that accompanied his shorts and t-shirt.

I instantly thought Danny Kaye but didn't give him another thought that evening. Just another concertgoer on what already was a rather strange night in our town.

I saw him once or twice more, riding his bike around town, peddling rather furiously, in the ensuing months. Then I saw him at the opening of the photography show at Pinnell Gallery for a brief second, amongst the crowded room. Somehow he took it upon himself to gain entrance to the private party I was having in my own gallery. I noticed him but seeming harmless enough, said nothing and went back to enjoying myself with my friends.

My friend Lynne beckoned to me later in the night, "Hey Robert, you have to meet S_____." I shook the man's hand, introducing myself and Danny Kaye had now slightly morphed into Puck. Without any warning S_____ opened his mouth and a highly concentrated stream of consciousness erupted out of his mouth, explaining the quantum forces of the universe down to the most minute detail and in its full glory. I got a primer on ions and electrons and a whole bunch of other kernels of truth regarding the innermost function of being and cosmic matter.

Now I was weaned on the Grateful Dead, seeing literally hundreds of shows replete with lots of psychedelic crazies and casualties and had certainly run into the type before, but admittedly it had been many years and I was way out of practice. "Hey Buddy," I stammered, backing up slightly. "What you don't understand is that I don't care. The universe functions, I dwell here and that's fine for me at this point in my life. Me and the universe have a very nice working relationship." He continued to go off on his highly abstract tangent, taking no notice of my attempts to extricate myself from his steely stare.

Lynne leaned over and grasped me in a tight bear hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. I nodded as casually as I could that it was really no problem and made my exit as gracefully as I could and thought nothing more of the interaction. This person was obviously trapped in a highly cerebral loop that was beyond my ability to pierce. Or my endurance. For all the cosmic hoohaw, there was a clinical sophistry and fierce determination that maybe lacked real warmth or emotion. Actual communication was impossible. Was I dealing with a yogi, a psychotic or just another acid casualty?

S_____ sent me a rather cosmic email dissertation the other day, replete with appropriate citations:

“`AM1” : IS : “Hebrew” for " A people, A nation"
The Light : “רוא” in Hebrew(Pro-Nounced “OR”) : HAS ARRIVED

A Party : IS : Co-(OM)-posed of two WordS : Part and Unity; thus, “A
Party” : IS : A PART(of unit)Y, A Celebration of Wholeness OR -“רוא”
A Faction : IS : ALL-SO composed of two words : Fiction and FACT ;
Thus, When a FICTION : IS : added to A FACT of Experience, becoming no
longer a Fact : ButT : a Fictionalized “F(iction in)ACTION” : OR
-“רוא” : A FACTion – it’s a De-Ception and not a PER-ception, but a
False-BE-leaf among those “in conflict with themselves”, lost in the
winds of time, de-leaved, de-“FIG”-ured in EDEN - nude, ig-nor-ant,
where “IG” : IS : understood : AS : A: (Sheela na G)“ig”, "The Evil
Eye Stones", where “stoned” here Me(a)ns ignorant of LOVE OR -“רוא”
UNION, not winnowed 2 their lover but “stone cold”- dead to lOVE!2
Let Me Explain : A Fact is a Conclusion, and it is a conclusion that
the UNITED States of Being needs Leadership; it is How-EVERR a
Fiction, when a single group decides amongst themselves that by
conquering ALL the power of this country, All for themselves, that
they can (THE)ngovern in Peace from Victory IN War from their
Faction, or Selfishness OR - “רוא” Di-Vision -- and NOT GO-vern, where
“vern”3 is Spring or in Sanskrit “Vasanta”4 : “The MOTHER Goddess” :
from THEDi-Vine, Feminine and Masculine in BAAL5-ance to the ONE!!
The Democratic and Republican “Parties” Are Deceivers of the HIGHEST
ORDER, for they Fractionalize OR divide the UNITED STATES into A
FiCTION constantly AT WAR, without ever a PARTY of UNITY.
The UNITED STATES necessitates a PARTY OF Unity to Govern.
Factions, to maintain their Power, Project their Conflict/Split to
Other Nations(OM), though These Other Nations(OM), have no Con-Flict
with US
Learn the Difference between Factions devoted to endless WAR and PARTY
PEOPLE devoted to YOUR PLEASURE, if you want Peace in OUR TIMEZ
Support Party People, they enjoy Pleasure over Pain
At a party, weapons are placed at the door, for a party is about
Unity, Fun, “A Settling Down” of : Differences, Cleavages,
Dispersions, Otherness, and A Desire to be Thrilled with The Muses of
: Music & Dance, Where Dance is UNDERSTOOD as Poetry in MOTION, an
Emotion, (po)E(try in)Motion, and Music is Understood as a Direct
Channel to THE MUSES : Spirit’s Voice in Motion, another emotion, this
time, for UNITY AND LOVE, OR - “רוא”, 4 God’s Presence to Dwell Among
When individuals “רוא” Groups of Individuals sEEK social-advantage, it
is All-Ways through Division “רוא” WAR. They do this by taking A FACT
of EXPERIENCE, and offering a Simple TRUTH disguised as a DE-Ception,
They De-Scepter U, They De-Sieve U, they take your power away by
dividing it amongst themselves.
The RepubliKats ATE zParty, and R NOW INFactFictions “רוא” FACTions
constantly dE-Sireing to control the US through HATE, since their
enemy is the people of the United Tastes for Peace, as well, as GOD,
since GOD is UNITED in Peace, and anyone desiring to RULE without
Peace is at WAR with GOD, and with GOD as your enemy, who wouldn’t be
Afraid & GUILTY, Criminally In-SANE
Thus, “The Birthplace of FEAR” occurs when you disassociate from
Humanity, by becoming a FACTION, stay UNITED, Form a United Party for
PEACE, otherwise, die2selfishness “רוא” Factions; for Factions are the
Birthplace of Fear OR selfishness
No One can be angry at a FACT, facts simply ARE TRUE:
…“It is always an interpretation that gives rise to negative emotions,
regardless of their seeming justification by what appears as facts…If
anger comes from an interpretation and not a fact, ANGER is never
ANGER is never justified!
ANGER is never justified!!
ANGER is never justified!!!
ANGER is never justified!!!!
ANGER is never justified!!!!!
Once this is even dimly grasped, the WAY is o-PEN. NOW it is possible
THUS THE ANGER can be over-looked, and thus forgiven in the truest
sense”(Capitalization and Poetic Liberty by S___)
I am i
Citations :
(Latin, “vernalis”, alteration of “vernus”, from “ver” “spring” ; akin
to Greek “ear” = “spring” (Stuart here, “Hear in the “Spring :
air-ear” : Yhe Birds & the Bees – Spring2LOVE with the Risen Erection
or Resurrection”), Sanskrit “vasanta”. First Known Use: 1530
- Ennead Mentation: The Nine Visitations of God
The Course In Miracles, Teachers Manual, UR Text, pdf Page 46-47, text

Hmmm. Now you can call me shallow or maybe I get reincarnated as a rock next go around but I just don't know what to make of all this convoluted acid talk at this stage of my life. It's like having the secret missile documents or something.

I  feel bad for this person although he seems perfectly content in his space. He had obviously undergone what Dylan had termed a lethal "dose" somewhere along the way. Having grown up in the psychedelic age, I know exactly what it is like to be marooned on some interstellar island without a return ticket. In conceptual hell. It certainly isn't fun. Interpersonal relationships are a bit rough when you are carrying the weight of full cosmic comprehension around with you. Inconsequential trivialities may become ultra magnified and take on enormous import. His super focalized dance moves with the invisible partner began to make sense to me.

I would like to relate one of my experiences going over the cosmic maginot line, the statute of limitations having run out well over thirty years ago. I was at my property in Aguanga, in the high desert. I had ingested the ergotamine sacrament. Memories are spotty as you might be able to understand. But I think I was as far into space as my new acquaintance might have been. I was walking around outside my trailer. I remember sitting down next to a coiled rattlesnake and communing with it for what seemed an eternity.

Maybe me and the serpent had something real going because he never did strike me and I had no fear of him. Then St. Luke appeared. The real one. He wrote letters of fire in the sky with his index finger, delivering a message that I do not remember today but processed quite intensely at the time. Believe me or not but I would swear that I stood in the middle of the desert getting a visitation with a saint who had fire spurting out of his finger. Damn, I know it's hard to believe... The next thing I knew I was in Vietnam and the planes overhead were enemy Migs. Thank god no shooting ever started. Eventually after an eternity or two, I came down and ended up at the Chaparral, the local steakhouse, seriously toasted but also feeling blessed and invigorated as if I had climbed a personal Everest.

I don't know what the moral of the story is. Perhaps always try to get a round trip ticket and don't ever hurt the machinery if you can possibly help it. I know what it's like to be stranded on a cold, barren moon and to beg the universe for a second chance. Dear god, let me back into my body and I will be forever grateful and promise to be good. That's why I stick with cabernet at this stage of my existence. Leave the astronaut stuff for the kids. May we all find our way.


Anonymous said...

Perhaps S is the messenger of the Dark Force? Or a reflection of your inner mirror slowing losing light on one of lifes cosmic subjects? Maybe he was sent to you as a mystical test, a question that needs to be revealed in the inner santuary of your deepest thoughts, something that must be answered, and very quickly! before it's too late!.....
You need to introduce him to Grumpy. He's just the person to crack this case open.

grumpy said...

no introductions needed, or desired; look, i was there, so i know the guy we're talking about here; he was at the opening and later he followed everyone across the street to the gallery, interjecting himself into other people's conversations, including my own, with his off the wall remarks and rambling asides; harmless enough i suppose and in a way he seemed like a sweet guy, but before long it was getting past my bedtime, and the room was starting to smell like a tortilleria, so i begged off and headed for home while i was still minimally coherent; case closed.

Anonymous said...

AND NOW YOU KNOW THE RESET OF THE STORY.................................................................................................................................................good.................... day..........................................................................Paul Harvey

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

To paraphrase William James.........Its all burnt almonds,nothing more.

windowdancer said...

The year was 1976 and I was at a bluegrass festival in Galax, Virginia called "STOMPIN' 76".

I was sitting on a hill in front of the stage frying my brains out while Doc & Merle Watson played. I remember hearing somebody say...


I turned and came face to face with a man at least twice my age. He had long black flowing hair, a face filled with pock marks and looked like death warmed over. He spoke in one of those whiskey worn voices that scares and captivates you at the same time. He talked with me for what seemed like forever... Same kinds of ramblings as your guy... stuff that only makes sense when you're on "BROWN WINDOWPANE".

Suddenly the guy in front of me jolts me back to reality when he yells "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

When I looked back to the stranger he was gone.


Blue Heron said...

Now that's what I'm talking about...

Blue Heron said...

St. Luke was the patron saint of artists. He was the only disciple who was not a jew,he is thought to have perhaps been greek. According to Eusebius he was born at Antioch in Syria and was a physician. He may have been a slave, it was common at the time for slaves to become doctors.

He wrote his gospel and also Acts. His is the only gospel that tells the parable of the good samaritan. In fact he tells 18 parables that are not found elsewhere in the new testament.

Luke's is the gospel of the poor and of social justice. He is the one who tells the story of Lazarus and the Rich Man who ignored him. Luke is the one who uses "Blessed are the poor" instead of "Blessed are the poor in spirit" in the beatitudes. Only in Luke's gospel do we hear Mary 's Magnificat where she proclaims that God "has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty" (Luke 1:52-53).

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Anonymous said...

That was heavy man. I don't get it, but in my heart of hearts I think it was heavy. I think a re-read is in order.