THE NATURE OF THE GNOSTIC EXPERIENCE

THE NATURE OF THE GNOSTIC EXPERIENCE

The pursuit of the knowing experience that is Gnosis is not an intellectual pursuit.

It is necessary to find a higher faculty with which to apprehend reality.

It’s like facing a wall in utter darkness
and using all concentration to pierce it.

Or like reaching behind you in the dark 
trying to find your pillow.

It helps if you have a question to which 
you passionately need to find the answer.

Build up a great wall of doubt
and face it.

Focusing your mind to one point
will help you.

Explaining what happens in the Experience
is impossible. This is why some teachers
insist on no reliance on words.

If I had to use a word, I might call it
an implosion.

Once this happens you might feel you 
know all there is to know and yet you 
know nothing.

Your sight changes irrevocably, also
your sense of identity.

If you think in Christian terms, you might
call the Experience miraculous.

If you have the Experience on other
spiritual paths, you will certainly call
it astounding.


See? I have used too many words already!


(C) 2018 by W.G. Milne

GOD COMES THROUGH THE WOUND

GOD COMES THROUGH THE WOUND

“Illumination comes… through the space created
by your psychic insecurity”… ie: abandonment
complex… becomes the pearl in the half-shell… the
space through which the angels come… the jagged
hole in the chapel wall… allows… the glorious pink
fingers… the purest white chaste light of humility,
prayer and forgiveness… the white chapel sun light
of the forgiving love of God…. the law – creates the
pain, like the sand- the pearl, out of pain… and
the wound creates the space necessary, the crack
through which the dawn comes, and Maitreya, and 
the returning Christ… the light of whom even now is
a suggestion of purple out of twilight… the hint of the
dawn of the new age which transcends this base
period, Iron Age, Kali Yuga, age of doubt and
material grasping… out of this wound and pain
out of which blossoms tearful kneeling prayers 
and need for that which is beyond our powers
to come and peck at the crack in our psyches
like a mother bird does to the eggshell both
protecting and confining her baby… she breaks
open the crack…. lets in the light… out of the
crack in the eggshell ego comes the annihilation
of the shell… complete removal of confining
protection… and if the psychic space is there,
the tears and the need for prayer…. Grace will come
like a rain of forgiving light more chaste and pure
than anything you could have imagined…. and in
this divine forgiveness, this holy welcome… you
see where you are as you step out across the infinite
galactic spaces – you have come home.
        And all the Universe and Mind and Eye and
heart and soul of Soul of God overflows within you
with its blessed greeting of forgiveness… and you see…
for the first time… with eyes washed clean and
made new… that all the cosmos is your bed
and pillows, and the milky way your blanketing
warmth, and the holy blossoming fountain of eternal
truth is your comforter. For you are home… and
you know now your true identity – and you are not who 
you thought you were. And you are glad. For you are
deathless as the spring.
       The wound of your early life, the bane of your
adolescence, the pain of your earlier maturity… all
have been necessary and useful so that you could
hurt sufficiently that you would seek… and lift your
head and climb the tree at the heart of the world –
all for this – that you may see the Time of Morning.








(C)1990-2018 by W.G. Milne/ Walker Ballantine

WHIPPING MELISSA

WHIPPING MELISSA

CASES FROM THE FEMALE ORGASM CLINIC     _______________________________________

WHIPPING MELISSA

__________________________

                  Soon as I can get to a scanner, I`ll
scan some of the “Roving Reporter in the Bush” tales,
and the comic sketches drawn by Ernie Taylor of me inhot pursuit of various stories.

(He got the “mad intensity” which is hard
to get, I`m told.  Soon as someone points a camera at
me I smile like an innocent schoolboy.)

Of course, looking at me these days, I`m
not fooling anyone.
Maybe I wasn`t fooling anybody when I was
a schoolboy. I had one Grade 2 teacher who hated me
on sight!  Maybe she got a glimpse of the mind behind
the mask – the innocent schoolboy act…
*

I wrote for 2 hours the other morning – a great
true scene of whipping my 2nd wife atop a cliff, near
a waterfall in the spring – with 20 tourists approaching.  That girl sure did have a set of lungs!
I had to wrap things up fast….She was screaming…
like I hadn’t told her what I was going to do to her…

                                       *
Ah, but some of the tourists were running like
they were trying to “save” her.  They should have
saved me.  I was the one married to her…                                      *
The problem with people who want to try S&M,
they hear it`s sexy… that the PAIN turns to PLEASURE…
if you get caned in the right spot…       They’re right, but NOT RIGHT AWAY!
It`s going to hurt a lot first… And that`s when you
spend a little quiet time alone and tell yourself
how sorry you are for all the evil things you`ve
done… (No!  I`m kidding!)
Anyway Melissa was losing it, and tourists
were almost making it to the crest of the hill,  so I did the
only logical thing.  I put Melissa in the trunk of the car.
Out of sight, out of mind…
*
Then later I went on to describe my use of Mindshocks,
working with a trained psychologist, to cure tortured
women, tortured by their familial repressions… how
Mindshocks help to set these ladies free – by scaring the
shit out of them, if they need it.
Their knees are not pressed so tightly together
after that. And if the women have a tendency to look
at the floor – they don`t look at the floor so much
after the first Surprise.
No, it`s too dangerous to look at the floor.  They
look behind them and all around them, and then they see
my trained assistants with notepad ,
padded handcuffs and a short cattle prod, which
is easy to hide when you tuck it up the sleeve of
your white labcoat…   when they see that…
Some of them try to run, but they don`t get far. It`s
rare for anyone to get away, like Alice. After all, she`d already paid the fee.  Also, there`s the fact that I`m the
only shop in three cities who performs this sort
of high-intensity, quick-fix psychological procedure.
Hell, I might be the only clinic anywhere, who promises to
cure your orgasm problems in ten days, or you money
back guaranteed.
*
After several years, most of the women who have
attended the KLEAR YOUR MIND ORGASM CLINIC
after a year or two, I get thank you notes… sometimes
the letters are long and the thanks are effusive;  sometimes they even try to find me!
But right off the bat after the procedure, they
usually   hate my guts…  That`s why I have to get
the money first.
In my one unsuccessful case, out of 19 delighted and appreciative women I got a letter
that was not a thank-you note…It looked like she had
a lawyer or  an expensive secretary type it.  The words,
“a long and enduring hatred” appeared.
I`ll be seeing her again, but it might take
years, and, all flippancy aside, she has a serious problem,
which will not get better on its own – even if she shoots
her father, or her uncle, whoever she`s sure has caused her such difficulties.                                           *
Speaking of shooting, TRANSFERENCE can be a problem in this specific situation. When she turns her
compulsive spotlight in my direction, it`s quite likely
she`ll try to shoot me. This has happened to me with
members of the fair sex before, but never in a professional relationship.
I can feel her now, prowling the side streets and
parking lots around my old place, a rifle with a scope in her trunk.               I should never have taught the lady to shoot.
I  had nothing but her best interests at heart. However –  it might appear  different in her mind –  in her enraged,vindictive an extremely pressured state of mind.
I`ll have to be very careful
when I leave the compound, any time soon.
*
Alice,
is an extremely attractive, wealthy, apparently stable woman… But she’ll be trouble for any husband.  Until she is cured, that is.  And she is so very close to a cure.  Just give me 3 more nights with her in the clinic.
You see the husband, when he gets naked with her to have sex – and when sex turns out to be a disaster –it`s hard to maintain an erection if you are staring into the
eyes of a woman who looks suspiciously like a black
panther, preparing to eat your spleen.

                                   *

I have my assistants. Gentle Doctor Laura is
available to placate patients – Laura`s services are  always necessary after the initial Mindshock.
The women naturally think they are in the
middle of some weird Machiavellian Nazi experiment
after I lay the electrodes down to tender parts
of their bodies.
It`s almost all for show… Almost!
*
Thinking again of that poor naked man
before Alice’s glowering onslaught.
Without my instruments I`d feel naked, too.

I use well-fashioned and durable sexual implements… An electric pulse and probe are frequently necessary… and of course there are canes and crops. Electric cuffs may be needed… restraints…prescribed stimulants… padded restraints.
Sometimes I bring in professional studs,
sometimes  distractions…    Sometimes I use power tools…                                        *

My team are pros at quickly
treating any medical difficulties

                                          *

               Sometimes after the
first surprise PROBE and ZAP, the patient starts to shriek…
and the words LAWSUIT and CHARLATAN often come up… and she`s right.

With the amount of  of electrical
and medical lab equipment we have assembled here…
not to mention the powerful prescription drugs. She’s right

that all my methods are not approved.
When the patient starts to shriek “LAWSUIT”
after the first blast of  current up her ass, I hit her with the
Haldol…

                                    *

And soon as they awaken and she`s having
breakfast in her green backless johnny gown, I hit her
with the blast again….. ZOWEEE!  MINDSHOCK!
delivered to her lower unit…
I have doubled the current going thru the
electric probe this time ..  .
I told you, I get results, and I get `em fast!
I must break down all resistance. And we’re

experts at my lab.
*
I`m the one who drafts the MEDICAL RELEASE
FORM, and if I do say so myself, it`s a beauty.
I lost one lovely twisted soul 13 months ago… I
happened to spot her sprinting across the lawn.
Sometimes you overdo the initial shock –  but really the
shock has to be administered in a closed environment.

An intelligent woman can often sense something
coming.   Maybe it`s the snickers of the queer male nurses.
(I keep calling them gay – they insist they`re not gay;
they`re Queer. I`m not sure what the difference is
and I`m not sure I want to know).

         William S.  Burroughs wrote the book, “QUEER!”

 and we all respected him.

*

I hired the male nurses because they did such a special job of nabbing fleeing patients at the research hospital –
they showed such gusto and skill.  (They nabbed
me more than once and I can run like a rabbit when
I`ve got a good head of steam up. Of course, with my
knees strapped together they had the advantage…)
*
Yes, I make fun. But these women suffer.
And, understand something about my methods:
I claim to cure you quick.  And I do.  I will.
My team hasn`t had a failure yet.(With one exception
and I`m not finished with her yet.) If my
methods appear to be more like theater than
medicine, well so be it!
I`ve always wanted to get into the theater,
but this is a hell of a way to do it!
*
As I`ve mentioned before, my clinic is not
sanctioned by the A.M.A. or even by the F.D.A.
I do get referrals from some doctors, but
it`s always on the Q.T.    That should be enough
initials for one article.

                                             *
Word of mouth provides most of my trade –
people who roam the City late at night in the
black-walled darkness of the more unknown bars,
red flickering candles, vampire suits,
and laughter and shouts and confidential talk
when the band stops playing.

                                           *
“It worked for Alice.   She feels a whole lot
better now… She says he was brilliant, a genius.
She said he quoted Dr Wilhelm Reich and his
orgone therapy as well as Mesmer and the Marquis
de Sade.
” Now she wants sex as soon as she sees a
white coat, or hears a certain song
only the doctor knows…”
” You`re kidding, Alice – that has to
be unethical – keeping a hypnotic trigger secret!”
“It`s certainly better  keeping it secret –
than telling everybody what it is at the cross-roads!”

*

Alice laughs out loud and slaps her knee.
“Actually, Jo,  that was a joke about the secret
song.”   She pats Jo`s hand.
Johanna:   “What`s gotten into you?
You haven`t been snorting that drug, inhaling ha! ha! gas again?”
“Relax!   I feel fine.  I feel great, better
than I have in over a decade. He not only
showed me how to orgasm, he cured my two
pack a day smoking habit….

*`
“My God! How`d he do that?”

*

Madelaine looked down… along the line of
her leg and boot:

             *

            “He showed me how to put something
else in my mouth.”

                                            *

MONOPOLY OVER THE JESUS TURF – THE EMPIRE CHURCH AND THE 10TH LEGION OF ROME

CHRIST’S EARLIEST TEACHING EMPHASIZED “KNOWING.” THE EMPIRE CHURCH’S ATTEMPTED ANNIHILATION

      

        If the crucifixion was in 65 B.C., as seems likely,

then there is no point in arguing about the so-called

 “historical” facts. Because all the facts are wrong.

        The  WORDS that have come down to us are 

more reliable. But not the words of the Empire Church,

which created a marketable G.I. Joe type saviour who did

 multiple miracles.

..     Why did they do this?



They did it because then it is easy to create a CHRIST 

MONOPOLY. And they created a Christ monopoly. 



If the teacher is a Superman, he becomes property of the 


marketing agent. He becomes a saleable item.


             There is big money in a monopolized Christ.


You can’t sell indulgences, you can’t sell forgiveness,

unless you have a monopoly.So the Empire Church

gained a monopoly over the Christ turf, because no one

had the power to argue with the narrow doctrine. Because 

everybody who argued in the early days, they became dead.

And the church started to SELL FORGIVENESS.

              
             Besides, no one could read in the middle ages except the

priests. So the monopoly was everywhere; the monopoly was

complete.

              The early Christians who emphasized KNOWING,

they were put to the sword, or burned alive, or exiled. Just

as their libraries and monasteries were burned – and all their 

texts and earliest writings were burned.


              By the time of the Council of Nicea, Empire Church

doctrine was set. The allowable books were kept, everything else 

was so-called heresy. By then, when the church had unified with

the might of Rome, the earliest materials (the Gnostic Gospels =

the earliest Christian Gospels) were destroyed.

              This is why the existence of the texts discovered in an 

urn in a cave in Egypt, and their existence into the present day,

this is nothing short  of a miracle!


               Does my teaching seem radical to you?


                Remember this:  Christ’s teachings were

radical and they are still radical today.

                 
                 
                I have been cursed by priests. I have been

told I am going to hell. And when they started to

curse me in Latin, then I knew I was getting

somewhere.








                 The earliest texts teach the exact opposite

of Empire Church doctrine.


                                           *


But the earliest texts teach the exact opposite.
 
 
 
 
         The earliest teachings teach that 
 


the purpose is to  become One with 
 


Christ, One with the Mind of God.
Christ hopes that you will seek Him out,
by looking within yourself and delving deeply.
 


        This is what Christ was/is 
 


saying:  “Become One with me. Then 
 


you shall know what I know.
Know yourself and you will see me.
Know yourself and you will know me.”
 
 
        

             “He shall be as I am and I shall be he,
 
and the hidden things will be revealed to him”
 
Gospel of Thomas.
 
 
         
       If you commune with the Mind 
 



of Christ, then you will know he 




is God.  For only the Mind of God 




is the Eternal Mind.
 



          This is what we seek – the 
 



meaning of eternal life. This is 
 



Paradise – the Knowledge of eternal 
 



life.
 
           
                This Knowledge is the 
 



culmination of the Grail Quest and the
 



Gnostic journey.
 
 
 
            What’s the point in going on a 
 


quest if what you find is only mundane
 


knowledge?














(C) 2018 by W.G. Milne
 

SCORES OF LIZARDS THRU MY MOTEL BRAIN – song lyrics

REPTILIAN

 

            SCORES OF LIZARDS THRU MY MOTEL BRAIN – SONG LYRICS

REPTILIAN

white light thru the door at Spiro’s Cafe
white white white hot sun at the heart of the day
Black Beauty’s coming soon
Delivery’s at noon
In the junkyard underneath the floor

                                  *

SCORES OF LIZARDS THRU MY MOTEL 
        BRAIN
First a throb of love, then a lash of pain
Plastic yellow roses someone’s glued to              the wall
Next to a picture of me
Doesn’t look like me at all

                               *

Cigar and brandy and me and Old Nick
Poster of a stripper from last year
There’s a crack in the wall and                              something comes thru it
What it is I can’t exactly tell.

                              *

No sleep for a week, it’s clear as a                        crystal bell,
Been in the desert now for 40 days…
I walked 100 miles from jail, I haven’t
        found my thrill,
With the little people sneaking thru my            keyhole once again.

                                *

Roxy’s at the corner trying to get some            cash,
There’s a gold stamp on it from across            the sea,
Can’t seem to find that last kilo flat of              hash –
Can’t wait to mix it, smoke it up with                some of these!

                                   *







This is a song from my nitty-gritty drug days. I haven’t recorded it yet, tho I know all the chords. So let’s see!



(C)2008-2018 by W.G. Milne (JOHNNY ROCK AND THE ANGELS) 

I’LL WRITE YOU A PRESCRIPTION, I’LL WRITE IT WITH HONEY AND BLOOD

PRESCRIPTION

 

I’ll write you a prescription;

I’ll write it with honey and blood;

With scraps of newspapers, spring                       waters

Evergreen berries and mud.

With stars that shine so brightly

On the brilliant axel tree,

Tree on which the world turns,

Leaving you and me to stare

Across the waters by the moon.

*

 To wonder about the promises

We made, or why the time came

So late or so soon.

And wonder where the

Many-coloured river of lights leads us,

Day to day. And why it didn’t turn out

Another way.

*

We are here now with the lights flashing

And the silence of the sea, ships’                           passing.

Go ahead, laugh! the wild gull of                          freedom

Waits, and screams his half-mad

Wisdom scream.

*

And what do I have but words

To reach you across the distances?

I have my kiss,

I have a flood of freshwater tears.

All the stories have been told.

I will not tell you a story.

*

I will mix you a melody, with a

Thousand ingredients. A melody

Is where it is, it never leads somewhere.

It is either enough or it is nothing.

A melody, it is the stuff of paradise

And dreams; it is the stuff of an empty,

Filthy alley, with cyanide queens

And the growl of hyenas.

*

The glowing panther eyes become

The flowing semen of the mainstream.

With its eternal ways and means,

Mainstreet. The monkeys laugh!

The impotent bones crack.

All that was proud pounds between

The sidewalk cracks. The wind hits

Like a hammer, the last of winter

Blows.

I wait now now while the spring melts

Into the morningglow.

*

And I write you this prescription

From my heart and soul. God knows

It might be all I can give to you that

Grows.

*

I wait here in the wildwind and the

Alleyfilth, while the rats bloat,

While the whirlwind turns a

Galaxy of worlds. While the gull

Flies through a new dawn,

And I discard my old clothes.

I wait while the old winter dies

And spring blows.

* * * * * * *

(C)1979-2018 W.G.Milne

I WAS ASLEEP. NOW I AM AWAKE.

           It would be easy to go to sleep again. The world is so very peaceful.

But this is not my purpose.

           We have seen some very fine teachers. But they all are dead or in prison. I was in prison for a considerable time…but prison was very

kind to me. I spent ninety days naked in the dark in a cell. And this rescued me.

           What are you going to do?  You can only play with your body parts so many times. You have one choice – die or meditate.

           I’m told people in Tibet would pay to be locked up in a cave, a wall was built behind them. One meal is delivered each day. There are no distractions whatsoever.

          Well, I was locked up for free. But there was no T.V. No music. Not even a pencil. I learned how to draw on the walls, using an ashtray. Though there were no cigarettes and there was no way they were going to give me matches.

          No, we are living in the so-called normal world and distractions are everywhere. Satisfaction is rare, but there are all kinds of things to occupy

our minds. So very little Mind work is done. There are so many more pleasant things to do.

          Though if you pursue the superficial, you are lost at that level.

We are lost at that level though we have a treasure-house within us. We have the ability to become luminous beings, but we ignore our deeper abilities.

         I like to put it this way:  space is not the final frontier, nor is the ocean. Our human Mind is the final frontier, and let’s never forget this. There are vast regions within that we have yet to discover.

          We don’t even have a map of this magnificent country within us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(C)2018 by W.G. Milne

NORTHERN TOWN STARRY NIGHT- SATUDAY NIGHT

A PAINTING I did of Mainstreet of this Northern Town, North Bay… but also Timmins & also, other northern towns.

On Saturday nights under the stars with 7 draft rooms open, Paradise is not too far away.

Hail to the north! And northern inspiration. The stars are there, too, if you look for them.

 

C 2007-2018  By W.G. Milne

UNDER THE HIGHWAY BRIDGE

Autumn’s yearly brilliance goes

As our loves go so our dreams,

As this river by this beach,

River weeping as it flows

*

As our dreams, so our loves go

Flows the river past this peak

Water’s silent violent speech

So goes our ancient sorrow

*

As our loves go so our dreams

Below the bridge to pass downstream

Must I still remember then

When love has gone and I remain?

*

If love is gone but life remains

And I am left still standing here

And you are now so out of reach

And now I share the river’s tears

*

I cannot stay, I cannot, no!

I cannot keep this love alone!

I see your eyes in the mystery

Coursing slowly past this beach

*

Love runs away like water flows

How swift love flows, how slow life goes

I see your face just one instant, brief!

Your face in waters beyond reach;

*

It’s some mystery I don’t know

As our loves go so our dreams,

You blow a secret kiss to me

Mona Lisa of the stream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Appollinaire

(C)2000-2018 by W.G. Milne

 

 

FACING THE VIRGIN PAGE – THE DEFINITION OF A POET

THE DEFINITION OF A POET………………………………………………FACING THE VIRGIN PAGE………..

      
       Editor 666 has arrived. This bush pilot knows where the poet lives. His cabin is
hard to forget, as it is the only free standing structure in several hundred square miles.
      Wait-A-Bit is about 200 miles away,
but there are no free standing structures
in Wait-A-Bit – except Matilda`s double caravan
with dug-out room below… Her former friend drove a smaller trailer into a larger one, pushed insulation between the two walls, doubled up with the screening, cut a hole in the floor to accomodate the foxhole – and voila – the perfect Artic dwelling.. with steel walls…
reinforced with angle iron…
        
     

        My first wife she used to try
to piss me off – clever bitch! I loved her – still do. She figured the only way she could get me to tell the truth was when I was angry. Otherwise… I lied.
      “True enough,”  Astrid insists: “Normally
you`re a sneaky, duplicitous bastard!” So she`d try to annoy me        “Truth is best before breakfast,” she`d say…. See?  That`s pretty annoying.

        

      Today   EDITOR 666 meets the THE MAD TRAPPED POET OF RAT RIVER.
     I can relate to EDITOR666 because you must get ugly with
yourself, with your sentences – with everything in your
life. 
    I love the street and I love street talk.  I love country
talk. I love being in the country. I love to have a cold beer
sitting on a stump.
      I LOVE THE `ECONOMY OF PHRASE` SLANG
 ENABLES US TO USE!
      But do not be deceived. I spent four fucking years
at the University learning how to use this language.
And I`ve spent another ten years learning how
 to use street-slang…. I didn`t know that`s what I was doing

at the time – I had joined crack culture, “country of the Now”
      But to write well and tell the truth I almost
have to “get my dander up”… this is a phrase the old
folks used….. Get up to face the Virgin Page.
      I`m getting older now – a ripe middle age. And I`m
not as patient as I used to be – in fact I`m turning
into a real monster.   I don`t let people visit me.
Most people don`t want to, anyway.  And that`s just
fine.Works out well.
      You see I have to GET IT UP every morning (and
for once I`m not talking about sex). And you know, that
old prick Hemingway (he`s already had more than enough

attention) – but he was right about a lot of things… I like
him best when he talked about writing.
      I used to think he was always a bit pretentious about the

boxing matches, the bullfights  etc. But I don`t think that way
 any more.
      Boxing to me is just a metaphor for the fight to face
the page, and derive some truth, squeeze some juice out
of the psyche.
      Every morning it`s like climbing a mountain…to mix
metaphors.
       I`ve climbed plenty of mountains and, if you`re determined,

 the one thing you cannot do is stop

***************************

EDITING


Editor 666 – picks a lame line out of a half-assed poem
and sticks it up on the blackboard.
 
“SOME WEIRD BEAK AT BEAT IMPLORING”
       
“Ha! Ha! Ha!    What the fuck do you mean by that???

Mad Trap Poet:   If I could see the text, I could discuss it.
Ed:     You don`t need the text, fruitcake… I`ll put the text      

in big letters up above  TO EMBARRASS YOU!

MAD POET OF RAT RIVER:  He produces a 14 inch
butcher knife which looks more like a Roman short sword
than a knife….He waves the blade in the light from
the Coleman Lamp, so Ed666 can see its razor sharp edge.
“Call me `fruitcake` one more time and I`ll cut your head
         off. Right here, right now.  I`LL EDIT YOU!

EDITOR666:  Ah,  you don`t have the balls to cut anybody`s head off.   Not you, you`re a “literary type.”

PO:  What are you—- you`re a LITTLE editor.  (He lisps
        as he says this)    

 EDITOR666:  All my life, I`ve worked like a man. You don`t  
          have the strength to cut off my head —  see these       ..        neck muscles? They`re too tough for you…. You
          do not know how hard it is…head cutting.

PO:    Oh, but I do.  I know exactly how hard it is…. I`ve
         done it before AND I LIKE IT….It`s not hard;
         it`s easy…. the prick was trying to kill me and
         it cheered me right the fuck up lifting his
         surly head into the air – by the hair… Hard, nah.
         Easy. I liked  I felt like a better man after it was
         done….. All the women in the club cheered and  
          and begged to suck my dong…. Did I let   them?         

What do you think?

(THIS IS CALLED A PISSING CONTEST… AND YES, IT DOES  HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH EDITING…)

Editor666:  No way.. I scan the news for mental oddities
                elements of the insane… I`d have seen  the
                news report…. Did you do it in secret, pansy,
                in your own secret closet?

PO: No it was in the news for days….almost 2
      years back… Remember a story about…..a head being
      chopped off in a public…WHAT ARE YOU, A COP?  I`m     not  not    telling you any details….

EDITOR666:   “I`m no cop! Your mayor hired me to give you
                      a hand with your narrative poems and free free             

verse…. I hear you`re good but you need help
                         bad !
              PO:      What mayor? There`s no town….if you hadn`t           noticed…. We`re on Great Bear Lake,  asshole!
        The only town within 500 miles is PORT RADIUM…
        and it`s been a ghost town for twenty years.
        That`s what they tell me.

ED6: You never bothered to go.?

PO:  Where you from?

ED6: Toronto, New York City, London.

PO:  You drop in to Rochester often? You bother to
        go there?

ED:  Never have, nope.

PO:  Well, at least there`s fuckin people in in Rochester.
       Port Radium, there no one.  And it glows in the dark!
       And It`s about the same distance…   

ED666: What do you mean, same distance. It`s just
           across the lake. I saw it on the map…

RAT:    A map?  You saw a map did ya? Ha! Ha! Ha!
           Yeah, just across the Lake, a paddle of
            about 400 miles…

ED666:  You`re not kidding are you? No, God help me!
            What`s so funny about a map?

PO:  No one`s seen a map up here for years…
        The map`s not really the problem… even WITH
       a map, we don`t know exactly where we are.
        We`d better have a drink and Il try and
       explain things for you…

Editor666:  That first pilot dropped me off
                 right in the middle of a huge parking lot…

Mad Poet:   You mean Wait-A-Bit!

Editor: __________?No. It was just utter
          devastation. Not even a blade of grass. It was
          a huge stone crusher had passed through just
          that morning…

Poet:   So you didn`t see the mayor.

Ed:     I didn`t see anybody. Wait, there was this one
      crazy asshole who seemed to be sweeping
      the place up… He was wearing this  hat like I`ve
      never seen before, and I have been to New
      Guinea… And they come up with some pretty
       wild-assed combinations over there… But
      nothing like this fool! There he was looking
      among the stones… With all these screens
       hanging over his face…..!

Mad-trap: That was the mayor.

Ed666:  Oh, no!  You`re mistaken. This guy looks like
          the moron janitor no one hired, working in this great
           latrine under the sky, scrubbing at the rocky
           coast of nowhere!

Mad Poet ( writes it down)   
       “The moron janitor no one hired,
        Working in this great latrine under the sky,
         Scrubbing at the rocky coast of nowhere “
         

 MADPO:        ” Sweeping under the open sky”…not bad!…. Maybe   you`re a poet,also

Editor666:  “I WAS a poet… It`s just that my character
                is not quite aberrant enough; my temper,
                though it is extreme, is not sufficiently
loathsome; and my genitals, though larger and much more
weighty than average, are not quite huge. And though
I enjoy beating innocent animals and persons smaller than I am, whipping them into apologetic and begging submission – I am not quite the sadist that I ought to be… to be worthy the name,”POET”.  
          Though I am deceitful and enjoy lying, 
especially to trusting souls: I find duplicity is not the air
I breathe.
        Though I do try to be an cold emotion-manipulating
beast, I am not quite up to par: I do not have that icy grasp
to squeeze each drop of soul out of each person in a situation;
       No I am not quite cold enough to deserve the title,POET.

Mad poet:  “WHAT? did you just say? Are you mocking me? Did you just insult me??`  You`re drunk, aren`t you…?
                You`d better be!”

Editor 666:  “Oh, no! Drunk?  Never!  Alcohol gives me the
                  great clarity.  The more alcohol I consume, the
                  more intelligent I seem to be…

                   I do not know entirely  how the 
                 Cosmos works, but the more I drink, the less                   

intelligent  other people  grow to be, other
                  people in the room with me, the dumber they                   become….                          
                 
             quite likeable folks turn out to be fools and
                 morons – the alcohol gives me the power
                 to discern their retardation easily…

MadPo        Man,  you`re hammered! Look, it`s
                  OK to talk to me this way…for a moment…But if you start spouting off this way in Wait-A-Bit…. 
someone`ll put a bullet thru your brain… and laugh about it… It won`t take  very long, either!

Edito666:   WAIT-A-BIT does not exist!

MadPo:    Ha! Ha! That`d be a good start.  They`re sensitive
          over there about their town stature         

ED666:  Statue…?.

MadPo:  That, too! It was melted down in seconds!

EDITOR666:  “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING, MAN?”


               

               

Mad Po: I had sex with his wife.  He found out.. Broke into my house… I woke up he had a knife in his teeth and
            his hands in my pants….
   
Ed666:  So you cut his head off…. and then you ate his
            brain…

Mad Po:  Quite right. I felt I had to … to prove
              the ability that he was trying to remove
              from me.
              I caught him and I ate his brain.            
              I felt like a real success that day!

Ed666:    They found you covered in blood
              a man`s brain in your mouth….

Mad Po:  Yes.

Editor:     You did all that and got away!  You`re a sick
              prick aren`t you? Brains, guts, mental illness and
              a gory past – you have exactly the traits I hope
              to find in a poet… Yes, you are mad -but that can
              be a good thing for similes, images and symbols.

Mad Poet:  So you`ll work with me?

Editor 666: Yes, I will. You`ve got all the qualities.

Poet:   In honour of our deal, I will present you with
          this!         The  Poet from Rat River
          holds up the huge knife…

Editot 666:  I was hoping for something else”, he
               whispers in the poet`s ear.

Mad Poet:  That?  You want “that?”

The editor nods his head, “Yes”


Poet: Poet nods his head.  “That can be arranged.”

            They shake on it.


  EDITOR 666 – DEFINITION OF A POET:  Intelligence of an  eccentric kind, passion with a BENT twist —a different   way of thinking and seeing the world, 
 necessarily strange associations. A mean, assaultive   character   prone to grandiose thoughts.  Alcoholics are often best – alcoholics who yearn for 
childhood before the age of 5 (Like- Dylan Thomas.) A puerile intellect that makes manipulation
of children and naive under-confident women a simple matter.
     A capable individual,  a person who devises a plan and can then carry the plan out –  no matter how outrageous, violent and sordid the plan may be.  A person with massive manic interludes…. an attractive, handsome sociopath (who can really screw the ladies over).
        
MADPO:   “What?” WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY….??? Let me read that! I`VE NEVER HEARD SUCH A STRING OF INSULTS, degenerate thinking in one place
!
EDITOR 666: Ho! Ho! You know I speak the truth!

PO:   You`re going to pay for that little joke!

Editor 666:  Who`s joking? 

         Both men are loaded now. The overproof has found
a major place in them both.
        Running down towards the river. Mad Trapper Poet
 of Rat River asks:  “Do you think I`m poet material? Do you think I can make the grade?

EDITOR 666 “A person of your experience, proclivities and background, you will shine!” 

SINGING & WRITING: “IT’S SO SERIOUS!”

        I was recording my song: “IT’S SO SERIOUS!” In a 24 Track Recording Studio just north of Toronto. I’d had invited about 20 jazz musicians including the 5 of us in JOHNNY ROCK AND THE THE MAINSTREET BAND

           There were 20 or so musicians drinking strong rum in the manager’s office. I had hired a woman producer who was more of a ballbuster  than I had expected. Half the band was black and they don’t like getting ordered around by this white gal. I realized they were plotting to kidnap her and put her in the trunk of someone’s car.

         I took over her chair right away, but that didn’t help much. They all could see her through the soundproof glass. They knew where she was…

       I was getting worried about her safety. So I took all my clothes of and started singing this next song in my underwear —- I was aiming for some comic effect… when I started barking like a dog, baying like a hound – this got plenty of laughs…

 

I wanted to bring a pit bull into the studio and have him howl under the microphone, but the manager nixed this idea. The mike cost about 10 Gs and he thought the dog might eat the mike…

         So I had to take over. That’s when I wrote this song.

 

        “IT’S SO SERIOUS!”

 

And I’m glad I did.

 

(C)1980-2018 by W.G. Milne  All rights reserved.

 

 

******

The Critical Edition of Q
A Synopsis including the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Mark and Thomas with English, German and French Translations of Q and Thomas

Series:

Editors:  Robinson J.M., Hoffmann P., Kloppenborg J.S.

Year: 2000
ISBN: 978-90-429-0926-7
Pages: CVII-561 p.
Price: 70 EURO
Summary:
The Critical Edition of Q: Synopsis including the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Mark and Thomas with English, German, and French Translations of Q and Thomas, edited by James M. Robinson, Paul Hoffmann and John S. Kloppenborg, culminates almost twenty years of teamwork by the International Q Project, which includes more than 40 scholars from North America and Europe. The outcome of this massive undertaking is an 8-column synopsis on facing pages, which presents the critical text of Q itself in column four, flanked by the Matthean and Lukan texts from which it has been reconstructed, and then, in the other columns, Matthean and Lukan doublets, and parallels from Mark, Thomas, John and the LXX. With all these materials laid out in parallel lines, the study of the Q sayings is greatly facilitated. Toward the bottom of each page the resultant Q text is presented in non-formatted and hence more readable form in Greek, English, German and French. A history of Q Research opens the volume, and a Greek Concordance of the critical text of Q closes the volume. Thus the Critical Edition of Q serves as the standard tool for all Q research of the future.

PASSAGES FROM PASSAGES

I left the city and took “the narrow path to the deep north”. In the north

I built a cabin out of oak logs on top of a 150 foot cliff. In that cabin

I worked on clarifying the meaning of some of the texts found at

Nag Hammadi, Egypt, 1945.
Most times when I have difficulty with a passage, the sunlight would pour through. On a cloudy day, the skies would open and the passage would write itself.
Once I was working by a campfire in the bush at night, and I was totally stifled.
A passage in the Gospel of Philip had me stumped. I was staring into the campfire
and couldn’t do a thing. After a few moments the Northern Lights descended
and the woods lit up all around me, and the passage basically finished itself.
No further thought went into the matter. The pen just wrote.
Later I was wondering whether I had imagined the whole thing. But I had
a visitor in the cabin, and she came running out and said, “The cabin just got
really bright.”
This sort of thing was not a rare occurance, but happened frequently.
Many different kinds of experience struck me as not merely odd, but
certainly a sign of Divine Intelligence within all things.
                                          *
Through Realization. or Revelation, or Satori, Enlightenment,
the Knowing of the early Christian Gnostics, through this Experience
which is fundamentally the same in all cultures, “identity” becomes
“Identity” and the seeker becomes One with God. Through an annihilation
of the ego, an implosion occurs which destroys the shell of the egg,
and the mystic achieves spiritual maturity. This is by no means
an easy process.
 
What we have forgotten, because we have been lead astray, is this:
it is not the name that is important. All our holy men have been murdered;
our heros have been slaughtered, because of names. These holy ones
would be horrified and enraged if they knew their names
are being used for such hellish purposes!

The very names of our holy men have been used as a justification

for slaughter! Also our names for God. In the name of Christ,

in the name of Allah, in the name of Krisna, we kill each others’ children.
Then distracted, we allow those who have lied to us for thousands of years,
those who are aligned with Power and Greed, we allow them to fool us again –

Don’t be blinded by names – don’t be led astray. Allow the name of God to be nameless. “I AM THAT I AM” is a good nameless name,

         Or: THE ONE WHO IS CREATING US.

Creation never takes place in the past tense. It is a continuous birthing.

I sometimes us the phrase: “THE TRUE ONE” because no names attack to it.

 

*

 

The Lord of light cannot be invoked. His grace is like the wind;
it goes where it wishes. When Grace fills you,
the room seems to lighten up a bit. Other people notice it, too,
that the room has brightened. Suddenly your are filled with
love and confidence. We can all be mystics.

*

The answer is to take the energy of this anger and use it as fuel

for meditation. Take the fuel of this rage and look within to the new country of the soul, the pure

land where men cease from grasping.

Look within and see until the mirror appears,
the mirror that is no mirror, but is the eye through which
you see God. And God sees you also through the same mirror,
and you know and you are known. The two become one,
the division between you and God disappears.
The One Light shines eternally,
and will forever shine within true men and women the world over.

There are many pathways to One Place. It is simple.

Do not be confused by names. Your duty is the Holy
Quest to your soul, to that which you have always been,
even before your parents were born.
I asked God one time, “What am I?” God answered in a loud Voice,
“You are an empty vessel.” It is through this empty vessel
that I write to you these words.

A TOUCH OF TRUTH, A TASTE OF THE OCEAN

A TOUCH OF TRUTH, A TASTE OF THE OCEAN
The earliest Christians were called Gnostics mostly in an attempt to dismiss the Christ’s emphasis on “knowing”. “Know yourself and you shall see me.” “HE WHO DR…Source: A TOUCH OF TRUTH, A TASTE OF THE OCEAN

June 9, 2016
A TOUCH OF TRUTH, A TASTE OF THE OCEAN
The earliest Christians were called Gnostics mostly in an attempt to dismiss
the Christ’s emphasis on “knowing”. “Know yourself and you shall see me.””HE WHO DRINKS THE WATERS FLOWING FROM MY MOUTH
SHALL BE AS I AM
AND I SHALL BE HE
AND THE HIDDEN THINGS SHALL BE REVEALED TO HIM”
GOSPEL OF THOMAS

This message is very simple. It describes a mirror-like confrontation between
master and student. And the master is urging the student-seeker to question the nature of his identity and being.

*

Again I ask you for your strength, for I have no
strength of my own, only the strength that you have
have given me

O holy one of Israel and Albion, thank you for your
grace, thank you for your gifts, thank you for the truth
that you have given us. O Father, you who ride the clouds
and pierce the clouds with the brightest light of
illumination, I greet you again.
I ask you to fill us with your light, as
you have done before and fill this room again
with you Grace.
O Lord of the Meeting Rivers, Lord on high,
you have given us love of the Mother and the
Earth, our mother; you are aware that our
adoration of the Mother is the love of
you, the most high. Help me teach your
mysterious message to your children
You are the Lord of the Indus plains,
the red earth; you are Father of the islands
and Lord of the sea. You are the incandescent
light at the core of me; you are the mystic
star of all the tribes.
Thank you for your gifts, thank you for
your Grace: thank you for the strength
you give to all of us.

2.

You pervade all things and teach me
my own intelligence. Help me teach
the difference between reality and the
lies that have been told.
You are God of the mountains,
the shepherd of the valleys. Little
children are born knowing you.
Trailing clouds of glory do they
come. *

I ask you to bless this wine,
O Lord Jesus Christ, soul of my soul,
heart of my heart, One day I
had my communion bathed in you.
And what had been my mind
dissolved in your eternal Knowing.
I have never been the same.
*

When you want to sell something,
you make it very special. So the rulers,
organizers of the monopoly, made you so very special,
so miraculous and exceptional, that
no man could be like you.
All we could do is worship you from
afar for being so utterly above us.

*

But this
was not your purpose, your purpose
was to dissolve into the seeker and
have the seeker dissolve into you, until
there were not two identities
but one only.
This is the meaning of communion,
it is the meaning of the Eucharist,
as well.
*
“FOR GOD IS A DYER. AS THE GOOD
DYES, WHICH ARE CALLED TRUE, DISSOLVE
WITH THE THINGS DYED IN THEM, SO IS
IT WITH THOSE WHO GOD HAS DYED.
SINCE HIS DYES ARE IMMORTAL,THEY BECOME
IMMORTAL, BY MEANS OF HIS COLOURS.”
*
On earth, in darkness and ignorance,
you see things but you
do not become like them. You see the sun,
you do not become the sun.
*
But in this place, the place of realization,
the place of redemption, “it is not possible
to see anything of the things that actually
exist, without being like them. “You saw the
spirit, you became the spirit; you saw Christ,
you become Christ. You saw the father,
you shall become the father. In this place,
you see everything and do not see yourself.”

“But in that place you do see yourself – and
what you see you shall become.”
For example, in that place (oblivion)
you see something or someone
you desire, you become that desire”.

This is the gospel of the one who
is searched for, and the seeker,
once enlightened, can no longer
be found.
The one who is searched for
was revealed to those who are
made complete, perfect through
the mercies of the Father, the
hidden mystery, Jesus the Christ
enlightened those who were in darkness,
the darkness and the fog of oblivion.
He gave light to their darkness;
he cured their blindness: he enlightened
them; he showed them a way, and the
way is the truth which he taught them,
the fruit of the tree which was Christ ,
the tree of the lineage of the Lord.
*

“AND HE DISCOVERED THEM IN HIMSELF,
AND THEY DISCOVERED HIM IN THEMSELVES.”
*
This is why the Bridal Chamber contains a
mirror. For the seeker reflects the one
who is sought, and the one who is sought
reflects the seeker. And a merciful God
is the reflection of the man.
There the man is baptized with water. light
and fire, in order that the Chrism may take
place. For no impure woman or man may enter
the Bridal Chamber, for there the marriage
takes place between the Lord God and the man
who has pursued the truth until he has
disappeared into the sanctuary, made chaste
by the Son.
*
There is no describing these things, but a
road map can be made – with signposts
along the way, so that the seeker may
not be lost completely.
I was lost in the early days, and when
realization occurred I had no idea what
had happened. I had no idea which way to
turn. I had to go to a zen temple, where
the monks knew of such things. In fact
realization was the aim of all their
zazen.
in the early days , then as now.

(C) 1990-2018 by W.G. Milne