From "Alex in Wonderland", a story of sex and tragic
love and morality and personal ethics and prophecy,
and of occult knowledge.
All the predictions made in "Alex in Wonderland" are
happening today. These are some of them.
“You asked me once how you would know when the change begins and I said it begins when people like you start to pop up. If you want a calendar date, its beginning will be marked by the planet Pluto's passage into Capricorn.”
“That doesn't mean anything to me, Hughbella. I want to know what's going to happen.”
“I can only give you hints, Alexander. The events of change will come in all kinds of forms. It's impossible to keep count. You'll see it going on. Old systems will collapse and be replaced by new models. The old ideas won't be such good ideas anymore. Many events are already reaching critical mass. Pluto always points out where. Where and what's left are what it's all about. It will seem as if the practical will give way to nonsense and crazy people will be calling all the shots. People will be scared and angry. A collective gathering about what's right and wrong will be interesting to see. Imagine that in politics and law and medicine, Alexander. It's going to be interesting times. These kinds of things will be the change. The whole facade will change at all levels.”
“You're telling the future, Hughbella. You said you couldn't do that.”
“Only in general terms, Alexander. The planet Pluto helps me to do that. I put two and two together. Remember, I can read anything from any time.”
“Hughbella, I have one question.”
“Only one, my sweet man? How unusual. I'll bet it's one you could toss out to the cosmos. What is it?”
“Will these changes happen during my lifetime?”
“Oh, yes, Alexander. They're happening now, as we speak. They're coming to a head, but look around you after the year 2010. The exhilaration of living through great change in a large population is what draws you to California.”
“You're making it sound scary. I'm going to wish I hadn't left Indiana.”
“Not if you can summon events and practice the Art of Choice. Don't worry, my sweet man. What doesn't kill us only makes us pee our pants. Hee, hee, hee. After the year 2010 no form of structure or organization will go untouched. All of the superficial truths and ideals will be replaced with what furthers the movement of civilization. False faiths and beliefs, once held to be substantial, will crumble. What was thought to be a good working plan will be found useless. This will deal a psychological blow to the culture, Alexander. Remember what I told you about the blow to the being? There will be blows to some cultures, too. Beliefs do not die easily, and beliefs are everything in the facade. Even the political parties will reassemble. They're already polarizing within to rebuild and save their original processes.
“There will be more mass movement of people across the continents than ever before.”
“You make it sound pretty bleak.”
“What's happening now is bleak. When the whole of civilization goes through transformation the going gets tough. Even the earth will change, Alexander. The earth will move in places where it never moved before, and more often. A good measure of the earth's people will have to reinvent their lives. That's what you're doing, you see. There will be messes to clean up, masses of earth and debris to move around. All sorts of hidden structures and organizations will be uncovered. Infrastructures will change everywhere and the changes will be strange and beautiful. A wondrous world will rise out of the ashes. Professions, including yours, Alexander, will be altered to survive or disappear altogether to be replaced.”
“Hughbella, what you're saying about Pluto, I don't believe in Astrology.”
“That's okay, Alexander. It will always be there anyway. I'm telling you about Pluto, not the other planets. Pluto includes the whole facade, not just you. I'll tell you something about you and Pluto, Alexander. I'll show you it doesn't matter if you believe in Astrology, or not.
“When consciousness get lifted to a higher quality, the energy that brings it there and refocuses it there is shown by Pluto, not caused by it. Nobody knows what causes it. Some people think the collective consciousness does it on its own. Pluto always shows unimaginable depths of concentration, Alexander. Intensity and concentration and focus are Pluto's middle name. Hee, hee, hee. To be what you have become, your consciousness had to be prepared for your realization.”
“Yes. We made you more available to a higher quality. Then we went through the process of refocusing you to make you an Observer. You rose up out of your own ashes, you see. You accepted your lot. You recognized yourself. You may learn from questions and answers, but you understand through experience. You're experiencing Pluto, my Alexander, whether you believe in Astrology, or not. Let your beliefs come from experience, too. You're lucky, Alexander. Sometimes, when Pluto gets done with you, all you have left is the desire for a little quality. Hee, hee, hee.
“Now, listen, Alexander. I want you to listen to me before you wake up. There are rules, rules of temperature, and gravity, and rules of reaction and response. I told you about reaction and response, didn't I?”
“Okay. These are rules of the facade, the rules of human nature. These are the rules you are born into and born with. They set the standards of common existence, but there are other rules less known. And these are the rules you depend on as an Observer. Only the phenomenal types can remember and use these rules. When these types pop up in the population, they use the rules of the facade and human nature the same as you do, but the other rules pop up with them. These rules are outside the facade. That's why you get to take a stance outside the facade, Alexander, because of these rules. These rules will replace the old structures of thought you used to use by habit. You'll understand them now.
“Look back, Alexander. You'll see how you used to cling to old beliefs, and I was there to replace them with new ones. Do you see the trouble you had with that? You'll see the same trouble in the people around you as this cycle passes by. That's all I can tell you about it, Alexander. Don't worry. You'll know when to take a stance outside the facade, and when it's best to be inside. An Observer's best attribute is his ability to shift from inside the facade to outside. For you, my sweet man, it's as easy as slipping into a daydream. Not all Observers have it so easy. Trust your abilities, Alexander. It's impossible for them to fail you.”
“Trust the cosmos to answer your questions, but beware. If you don't know enough to ask a question, you won't recognize the answer even if it jumps up right in your face. Now, the main thing, Alexander.”
“Hush, Alexander. You're young and handsome, Alexander. That alone will open doors for you. Don't go through just any door. And remind me to tell you the sixth task of the Observer. Will you take your furry little brother there with you?”
“Yep. Good ol' Ginzburg's coming, too.”
“But who's the third party, Alexander? That part's a little vague to me.”
“Munch is coming. He's the third party.”
“Hee, hee, hee.”
“What- You know something.”
“Alexander, I'll tell you something from the Book of Beliefs. There are those events you think could never happen. But they happen. Right before your eyes. They can be devastating blows, or grand accommodations, strokes of good fortune, or slight annoyances, but they always come as a surprise. But not for you, Alexander.”
“Hughbella, you know something.”
“I have to go, Alexander. I have things to do. You have a nice trip.”
“Oh, man. “
“Now, wake up, Alexander. Your lanky friend will be here soon.”
Reminiscent of Tony Bennett's "Stranger in Paradise"
10/19/2016 - Wednesday
How would I describe her: a work of Art, a frightened, delicate, butterfly of a woman, draped in the haute couture of the day. She was accompanied by a stout, little man with slicked-back hair and a poorly fitted, brown suit with whom she seemed very bored, and who, in turn, seemed to adore her. Several times he summoned the steward to attend to something at their table for her. I imagined her a celebrity of sorts, traveling with her manager. She seemed oblivious to his rude impatience toward the steward. I took an immediate dislike for him. His name, I was to learn later, was Ulrich Bregmann, a minor, but well-connected authority in the Gestapo Command.
On a spiral stair each tread and each riser is a different size (width and length). Also the tread and riser are usually installed as one piece (wrapping the material over the tread nosing). A template is made for each step (tread) in the run of stairs and cut accordingly.
Installers use very basic math in the field . But they rely on instinct and craftsmanship to do it.
an R. Harlan Smith book
Once upon a time there was a very wise mouse who said, “Teaching is the sacred communication. There should be no damage in the delivery." And that was his approach to everything. The other mice listened to him. They believed the things he said. They considered him a Master, a prince among mice, and there were reasons for this.
Robin's mother didn't consider herself a Master, nor did she have an approach. She simply fixed a piece of cheese to the trap and set it in the middle of the kitchen floor. It was the last thing she did before turning out the lights and going to bed. Robin thought it was a terrible thing, one of the stupidest things grownups do, and there was nothing he could do about it.
It was late that night when the Master summoned his followers to the center of the kitchen floor. He didn't speak. He did not explain. They knew he wanted them to watch. He waddled around the trap, rising and sniffing things here and there. He could see the Arm of Death at that end, straining against the catch. That end then would be the Master's approach.
Like a student of Balanchine the Master mounted the wooden platform with one swift move. The notion of 'so far, so good,' would never enter his mind. He was steady and sure of himself. He was a Master. Then, with circus precision, he eased the cheese away from the trigger and clutched it to his breast with a prayer to the mouse God. And the trap lay breathless still beneath him. There wasn't a closed mouth among his followers. What would the Master do now?
Robin felt the snap of the trap with every cell in his body. It coursed through his body like a Baby Ruth before breakfast. It was a terrible thing. But before Robin could ask himself how his mother could do such a thing, a plump, warm, furry little body plopped onto his pillow right beside his ear. In fact, it had to hold on to Robin's ear to steady itself on the slope of the pillow.
Robin's face lit up, his heart raced. He held his breath, and screwed up his face and squinted his eyes closed. He wanted to squeal. He wanted to jump up and run around in a circle. A chill like electricity moved over his skin, a sensation not uncommon in the presence of a Master. He lay very still, listening to the scratchy little feet crossing around the top of his head. The Master waddled down to Robin's ear, negotiated the slope of the pillow, then to Robin's shoulder, and to the mattress where he made a triumphant leap to the floor. He returned quickly to his followers with the treasured cheese. It is for this reason that cheese is regarded as a divine delicacy among mice.
Robin laughed out loud.
There were many occasions when Robin's father sprang up in bed, shaking and dripping with sweat.
“My God!” he gasped. “What the hell was that?!”
Robin's mother rather enjoyed it. “It's your jolly son,” she said, yawning. “Be grateful he's laughing and go back to sleep.”
Actually, all the neighbors who could hear were grateful, as well. Even if it was two o'clock in the morning. The mice were grateful. Robin was grateful. Who is not grateful when a child laughs out loud?
- Went into semi-retirement immediately after high school. Then attended five different colleges for 3 minor degrees in Eng. Lit. (AA), Behavioral Sciences (BA), and Paralegal Procedures (AA)
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