All Down

All the being that I am can be laid down on the table, if there was one, of the Great I Am. I am Andrew. I have six characters to enunciate to keep folks familiar with me, call me, bill me, hopefully not arrest me or toe-tag me, but there I am!

The Great I Am was the one who said, “I Am That I Am” in response to a HUMAN who asked what should he say.. if.. folks wanted to know. What is God’s self? No- no crazy questions here. You go away with that one. God is distinctly not SELFISH in the Judeo-Krsna Scriptures. No. Not selfish. Powerful. Made man in his own imago!

That’s what it says in the Judean-Krishna Scriptures. JESUS was sent to save and not merely ENACT the Judeo-Krishna ethic… Wha.. Wha?? Someone says I say it wrong? No you are right. Haha. I was just seeing if you were paying attention! It’s “Jujitsu-Christian” values. Crufflah! No! Judea… Well there was the tribe of Judah, Jude The Obscure, but that is a modern book…

I just destroyed myself, see the rubble above?

I do not take my religion so seriously that I cannot laugh at a cartoon of a monk being spanked by a robot with big hands… I can say “Jesus H. Christ” if only to quote someone who long ago felt the need to demystify a holy dead word. “Jesus” as written may or may not have power. The ink in the “J-E-S-U-S” swims, reaches dead-ends, swirls and so WHAT? Yet still a name or word is retained. Much more is to be gained. A human writer probably does not know what he is doing as we tend to pick this vocation or activity. I do something other than writing.

Actually it’s funny but I use writing to do it. I use breathing to do it. My prayer to me is a yalp and a nation of yalp, broken mostly, maybe some coherent cries. Audible or not, I Tai-Chi breathe sleep criss cross walk talk and act in any present way to be a conformist. Because I signed up in fire ink. I am trying and failing but as I live, things proceed and it is not simple.

Some things are simple. Complexity kills a person. Do we want to die? How do we die? DO WE? Do human beings cease? Well I should hope so- they’re annoying! Oh but for the cause of the glory their is grace. Did you ever think you were going to die? You did not. If you are now, I don’t find it amusing. Comfort and love should be lavished on the perishing. The Scripture says:

“Give strong drink then to the perishing, that they remember their suffering no more.”

Excuse me! I feel a perishing in me? May I have a pint of Guinness? Well be high on the Spirit, friend. Know when to give those drinks an end! Walk down the night street and wonder what you are. Try to stay out of the driver seat in a car! I’m no priest.

I’m a Lummy Yumchuckner. A practitioner of raw wit. I’m not a condone-demn-er. I can’t get a licence in Northern upkeep and Southern doo-dittle! That is ridicufunk! Cheese anemones on a stick re-dic! But I can lose myself.

I can lose myself in a pinch. It might be stupid but when I was 19 I went to my friend’s funeral and stood in a line. The line was to talk to the mother, age 40 perhaps. She had one KID. Him. I had a thought I was near my friend’s size and I gave her a hug with the thought in mind she could think of her son and not me. I did not preplan that. It’s awfully personal.

What I did not expect was to feel a weight in it. You could say light. Electricity. Negatrons. I don’t know. I absorbed something. I went outside and cried myself. Quite a bit. I was not kidding around. I always was huggy as a kid. What did I do! It felt like profanity. I was even then a spiritual man. I saw my friend’s body 1 1/2 hours previous.

I combined with death in that family. I extended a self-as-other to stand in my friend’s place to embrace a stranger twice my age. Perhaps to not let there be a lack of sons? He was the only one. His mother was torn apart.

It tore ME apart. I never saw death the same again. The way I saw my body changed. The prepared decedant is identical to a living body except that it is missing “X”, life. To those who are green or sensitive the sight of a body in our culture is shocking and almost never happens. For the sake of the family I was glad to lose myself in strange sensations in my chest as the VEHICLE of person of my friend was absolutely still. Hell seemed near, if not RIGHT THERE. Teenage girls followed after me, gasping, crying at the sight of what was left of their handsome, witty good-humoured friend.

I always tell myself I sense “gold light” where there is death. Our culture in the USA lives like there is no such thing as dying with acetomenophin overuse, excessive smoking & drinking, shootings in schools replicating video gaming’s incidental “training”, movies full of excessive violence, Tv and yadda doo be dumb. Something golden is near death, maybe I’m nuts but WHATEVER- I believe that people who come from FORM have a sculptor who can do what people hope- or ought to hope for which is to return to him in peace.

Any way I have ever looked at THIS world seems like how a dead end street is. You can keep going but you have to get out of your car. I’m not encouraging that in any way. In fact, I’m going to say that there is an ocean of sewage on the other side of the dead end road. There! Don’t go there. Not until angels give you a tug and take you on Yonder. Live for now until you die. Agreed? Great. Have a nice life.


No nevermind. I’ll write something else later. Hopefully not overly cheery. And I hope to leave out dead people. Sorry.



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