Listening to Erik Davis’s “High Weirdness Oracle” while walking through Floral Park Cemetery after the Retreat, after a Friend escaped Chapel Perilous

Con/Jur/d Week of 10/13/2020 - 10/20/2020

Vegetative ghosts appear

do a little awe-filled, “Boo”

disappear via strong Fall-winds.

“Of course, 2.3.74, begins with 23, I like the meta-joke and how Erik Davis tells it. Ram Dass, once told a story about how at Millbrook, certain jokes kept repeating, so rather than tell them again they assigned numbers. Sometimes, that’s all we are, call-numbers, in a cosmic Dewey-decimal-system prat-fall.” Dr. Concrescence

Is there any other season in a cemetery but Fall?

I was disappointed in myself this week. The title of the piece came together as if preordained. The poem and images however receded like a dream after coffee and email. These days, with the eddy’s in the time-stream, the clear over-arching narratives we are too awake to believe in, none the less overwrite our memories, quarantine our responses and reveal, reveal, reveal the great lies of our times. At least, I understood finally and not for the last time, the mantra ‘as soon as’ obfuscates the living and denies the dying. Do everything you can to rid yourself of ‘as soon as’ and you will move a long way towards understanding ‘Right Living.’

If only I had been listening to the Mckenna chapters instead of the end of Wilson. This:

would have really meant something! That’s the point, you can’t force it, sometimes you can fake it, but that’s the trick of Randi and other failed magicians. Never settle for anything less than the ‘real’ thing. I defy anyone who ‘leans towards and into language’ to walk in a cemetery and not compose a work of poetics, criticism, occulture, or cinematic mysticism.

Enough, enough.

I’ll see y’all around the roses.

con/jur/d 10/23/2020 ha ha ha ha ha ha ha