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Silver Surfer Poetics

I am re-running this (from Tabby Cat Ashtanga and my own tai chi website) just because I love it so much. I don't even believe that what the good old Silver Surfer is saying here  makes much sense. After all, we humans are mere mechanisms, slavishly pursuing the genetically coded agenda, like a C programming language subroutine:

void 
TransformMatterAndEnergyToCopiesOfYourself
(string DNA) 
{ /* return a new copy of a human */ }

But the Surfer's philosophy here is just too gorgeously expressed! As far as I know, my quoting is the only place this magnificent bullshit appears anywhere on the web or net.

So. There you have it.

If Marvel Comics wants to sue they know where to find me.

=======================================================

Silver Surfer Poetics

(Stan Lee)

In all the galaxies...
In all the endless reaches of space...
I have found no planet more blessed than this...
No world more lavishly endowed with natural beauty
... with gentle climate...
with every ingredient to create a virtual living paradise!

Possessed of rainfall in great abundance...
soil fertile enough to feed a galaxy
And a sun...
ever-warm...
ever constant...
ever symbolizing new life, new hope!

It is as though the human race has been divinely favored over all who live!
And yet… in their uncontrollable insanity…
In their unforgivable blindness…
They seek to destroy this shining jewel…
This softly spinning gem…
This tiny blessed sphere..
Which men call earth!

In every part of the globe it is the same!
Hatred, fear, and unreasoning hostility have possessed men’s hearts!
Each and every earthling,
In his own tragic way,
Is a much a Yeti as those who fight below!
Only the outward trappings differ…
But their hearts are filled with fear…
And dark distrust!

Though my power beggars description
Still I am a prisoner upon this savage world!
　~

Here amongst these ruins,
Once rose a city, prosperous and proud!
Now, all that remains is crumbling rubble…
And the dismal sight of decay!
On Earth as in every corner of the endless universe…
Civilizations grow…
Enjoy their brief moment of glory…
…only to sink into dust once more!

Is this the final fate of all who live?

Is this the end of striving…
And of hope?
Is it but in desolation that man can find the peace he seeks?
I should have known!
I should have expected no less!
Has it not happened many times…
In the past?

Of all the countless worlds I’ve known
Of the myriads of planets upon which I’ve trod…
Never have I known a race so filled with fear…
With dark distrust…
With the seeds of smoldering violence…
As THIS… which calls itself…
Humanity!

In all of nature, living creatures battle…
But, only for food… only for survival!
It is Man alone who battles in the name of nameless Causes!
It is Man alone who is goaded by emotion… who is driven by a savage PRIDE!

I can endure no more!
I can suffer the hostile forces of Nature…
The deadly barbs of a foe’s attack…
Even the gnawing anguish of eternal LONELINESS without end!

…But I cannot bear the torturous incomprehensible assault of human madness!!
I cannot be imprisoned – in a world without reason!
Must I protect you…
In SPITE of yourselves?
Are you so steeped in EVIL,
That it is all you see?
AGAIN you substitute force for understanding!

Again you would destroy that which you cannot comprehend!
From cradle to grave –
Your lives are rooted in senseless violence!
Since power is your god –
I’ll show you power –
Such as you have never known!!

If ever they are to come of age –
They must be taught to reason!
They must be shown that force can never be the answer!

~

Amongst the mightiest –
The most supposedly savage of all earth’s creatures –
I sit in peace –
I dwell in safety!
For food has been plentiful –
And no longer do they hunger!

Unlike the humans –
Who call you beast –
There is no violence in your heart!
No hint of avarice –
No smoldering hate!

Yet man, who has won dominion over all this world –
is a stranger to peace –
A prisoner caught in his own nameless fears!

And here stand I –
Hopelessly trapped in a world of madness!
Where reason is shunned while violence prevails!

But no longer shall the Silver Surfer be a part of man’s insanity!
Let humanity do what it will –
As for me, I shall dwell amongst the beasts!

~

At last I know how earthmen differ from rational beings…
They think peace denotes weakness…
And savagery strength!
And none but their very young…
Or very old…
Know the true meaning of…
Love!

Knowledge is my Reward

What's the point of writing a blog anyway? There isn't any. It's as pointless, no, it's  more pointless even than most other stuff we do. Yet it's habit-forming.

Speaking of utter pointlessness, I'm now in a position to compare the three top books in the "dude lit / pickup / fratitude" genre. Which tells of guys acting like assholes (to women).

First up to bat is The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists by Neil Strauss; then there's I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell by Tucker Max; and bringing up the rear The Average American Male: A Novel by Chad Kultgen. Now, don't get the wrong idea from this list. It may seem that I'm scanning through all the practical pick-up advice lit. Not so. I have no interest in things like The Complete A**hole's Guide to Handling Chicks by Dan Indante and Karl Marks. I have no interest in being tutored on the mechanics of picking up women (or anybody else). No, that list of three books above is there because they are good examples of a certain kind of writing. Could I call it male chauvinist satirics? It has a certain breezy, cheesy quality that can be humorous. And that's all I care about. As they say in the Mysterious East - laughter is the language of the gods.

Best of breed, by a far long distance, is The Game. Strauss is truly funny, side-splittingly so. He's a better and much more intelligent writer than either Max or Kultgen. And though a certain coldness is inherent to the enterprise he's describing (picking up strange women for casual sex), he's more human, deeper, warmer. So his book is a cut way above the other two.

Next is Max's Beer in Hell. I hope none of you out there are as stupid as me - I bought this one on a whim, in soft cover for hard cash, and later found out the entire book is on the guy's website for free. Anyway. Max is a funny writer. He's not nearly as intelligent or literate as Strauss, but that's due to the difference in their pedigrees - which shows in the tone and quality of their work. Still, I must credit Max with the one single funniest episode in any of the three books - the time that he and his buds picked up some girls with the lie that they were a famous Christian rap group. That I must admit was a supremely funny and skillful bit of bullshitting and post-action debrief. But overall, his book is far inferior to Strauss', vastly inferior. It is just toooo shallow. Not that I have anything against shallowness per se, but in addition to the endless cycle of: pickup, have sex with, insult, dump (girl) there's also too much about how drunk he's always getting. After the first twenty times I began to care less and less about that.

Last and least there is Average Male. What can I say? The guy has some writing skill, but honestly does this book need to be written? It is diverting, in a depressing way, but has zero laugh-out-loud moments, which even Max's book contained in adequate supply. Actually Male is so deadpan, so cold and affectless that I believe it was at least begun as a conscious intentional parody of Max's  book. It has a great deal in common with that, but the protagonist here has much less energy and spark than Max. Leaves a bad aftertaste. Basically it is Bret Easton Ellis um, ... lite.

One thing common to them all is a kind of political correctness. Admirable in a way, but odd, in that apparently it's fine to call out all females as bitches and hoes, but you must bend over backward not to appear homophobic or racist. So all these books incorporate a gay side-buddy with whom the otherwise Neanderthal protagonist interacts in a scrupulously meticulous and sympathetic manner. These guys are Neo-Neanderthals.

I wonder who (besides me) is reading this stuff. Presumably it would be most interesting to guys who match the demographic and interests of the authors, but do those kinds of guys really read all that much? Then how do they get their drinking and screwing done?

Anyway, my interest is in great satire/humor writing. I'll trudge any distance and climb any mountain for something promising in that area. Speaking of which, I should reveal my Tabby Cat Award for Absolute Greatest Humor Writing of All Time. It goes to a long essay "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again" by David Foster Wallace, about his experiences on a luxury cruise liner. I don't even like anything else this guy ever wrote, but that one piece is the only time I seriously understood the fact that one could actually die laughing.  

Bray of the Jackal

The "9/11 Truth Movement" is spreading, somewhat. Far more people are aware that 9/11 was an inside job now, compared to 2002 when I got it. Yay for me. Like you need more than two brain cells to understand that!

But it isn't a matter of brains at all. Most people can't handle the truth. Too many emotional barriers (this part is well understood by the 9/11 Truthers) and, more importantly, economic disincentives (this part is not as well understood by the 9/11 Truthers). The Truthers believe that eventually, with enough outreach, protest, and activism, the Inside Job hypothesis will sink in and take root. Not so. Too many people have benefited economically. The ones who've benefited economically were never in on the execution and have not directly participated in the formal coverup. But the whole culture has subtly yet powerfully warped itself into alignment with the War Of Terror, and that process can't be run in reverse.

Therefore, you'll never see widespread, open recognition of 9/11 as an inside job.

Still, the occasional little leaks and flashes of light can be interesting. It's fun to watch the antics of the lower-level security professionals, the ones who try so hard to believe in the Official Line, and who deploy themselves professionally in accordance with it. The higher level guys, who know, can only laugh at the Keystone bumbling. That's especially true in the CIA and other intell services. The 9/11 Official Account is a tall mountain of apparent coincidences, which cut uniformly in the direction of a Goebellian Big Lie. And even I, with my relatively brief professional dip into the dark water of the intelligence trade, back in the day, immediately understood the main lesson of that world - the very first thing you learn: There are no coincidences.

To amateurs and outsiders, that sounds like gonzo paranoia. But in that world, if you haven't understood this truth and based all your operational analysis on it, you simply aren't a professional.

Advice: Stalker

Dear Tabby,

Hey Tabby, it's me, Biff, here in Puke Weasel, Michigan. Help! My pet cat Spunker and I are being stalked nightly in our dreams by some kind of etheric demon, an evil nocturnal sleep entity, spewing filth from the deepest chasm of Hell. You're the one on that whole crazy astral feline trip - so I'm begging you - exorcise it, vaporize it, save us! I'll pay whatever you ask!

Your Pal,

- Biff

Biff...  Biff...  Biff... ,

What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully? You've read my column for many years, but this is the first time you came to me for counsel, for help. I can't remember the last time that you invited me over to snort a line of catnip, even though the Puke Weasel branch of the Tabby Cat National Fan Club is the country's biggest local chapter. But let's be frank here: you never wanted my friendship.  And uh, you were afraid to be in my debt.

But I understand. You found paradise on the Earth Plane, found a nice trailer park, made a good living as a dice inspector. The police protected your physical body; and there were courts of law. And you didn't need a friend of me. But uh, now you come to me and you say "Don Tabbleone give me justice." But you don't think to ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me Godfeline. Instead, you come to my blog on a day when I ought to be peacefully writing my usual blindingly brilliant entry and you uh ask me to do murder, for money.

Had you come to me in friendship, then this scum that ruined your Spunker's sleep would be suffering this very  day. And that by chance if an honest pet owner such as yourself should make enemies, then they would become my enemies. And then they would fear you.

Down for Count

For those who have not been knocked out in a fight before, I will give you the gist of it, from personal experience. Oh no, please - not all that many times - but, over the course of 35+ years of off and on (mostly off) boxing, enough times to write you about it.

The key thing about being knocked out is that in some ways, it's better than a hit that connects well but which doesn't knock you out - that actually hurts. While basically, in the case of a ko, you aren't really there when it happens. What I mean is, you don't see it coming,  you don't feel it hit, you have no memory of it - as far as the actual impact is concerned, it's all aftermath, all past tense.

But post-impact there are basically two types:

(Type A KO) when you have enough consciousness to be aware of yourself going down, to stand aside as it were, get out of your own way and let your bod take its helpless, embarrassing trajectory to the floor. Then your consciousness may flicker in and out for a few minutes until (hopefully!) you are restored enough to sit up.

(Type B KO) The other type is more surgical, if I may put it that way - meaning one minute you are boxing along fine, the next minute you are staring up at ceiling lights or somebody's face - a seamless transition.

Either way, it isn't so totally bad, though you may have a headache for a day or so afterwards. I figure death in many cases is probably a lot like this experience. I bet in many cases you never know what hit you, you don't remember passing through it, you just wake up on the other side with some kind of etheric hangover.

Lifting Me Higher

I've started wondering recently just how did yoga get lathered up with all the spirituality marketing buzz.

In essence to me, yoga at its best is this:

In other words, contortionism. Entertainment. In the vid clip above, professional contortionism. In the case of most yoga, amateur contortionism.

Amazing how the Indians cross-branded, re-imaged, and re-deployed it in a virgin sector (West) as a path to higher this or that. You can bark back and insist the body is a route to higher whatever. Can't contortionism take you to the 7th Heaven or ultimate Samadhi? Yah sure it can, and you can apply that logic to walking your dog or anything physical at all.

Advice: Startup Venture

Dear Tabby,

Listen up please, this is the business opportunity of a lifetime, just for you! Woody Allen once said "I've got nothing against death, I just don't want to be there when it happens". Well, my colleagues and I up here on the Astral Plane are taking that seriously - but turning it on its head. Our motto is: we have nothing against life but nobody wants to be there when that happens either, right? I mean, look at the scorecard. Murder, suicide, disease, torture, rape, verbal and emotional abuse of every imaginable sort, starvation, political oppression, jailhouse gangs, gulags and sweatshops, head-hunting and cannibalism- need I go on? That's the Earth Plane for you. Yet, all souls are mandated by the politically bulletproof Time/Space Obligation Act (TSOA) to undergo a practically unlimited number of human existences, at the direction and pleasure of the Karmic Overlord Committee (KOC) acting through individual so-called Spirit Guides. Obviously a total scam! When I was younger, I thought violent overthrow of the Committee was the only way forward, but now with greater maturity I realize this is the kind of ungodly profit opportunity that only unbalanced, tyrannical legislation can create.

My techie friends and I have therefore created a system whereby a soul can perform human life actions "as if" incarnated, by manipulating their human body unit through remote control! No more actual climbing into the wetsuit! Never again experience the pain of a stubbed toe, the stab of toothache, disabling appendicitis, embarassing flatulence. All these conditions and more are merely signaled on the monitor with an unobtrusive beep, and the operator can take appropriate corrective action as needed - in a calm, cool, unhurried and hyper-efficient fashion.

Just as Earth Plane surgeons can now operate remotely over a telemetric computer link from thousands of miles away with just a video monitor and a joystick, now with our revolutionary "Samsaric Offsite Umbilical Leash Backseat Oversight Technology" (SOULBOT) system, souls can do the same with human bodies. A soul can drive its incarnation through the entire gauntlet of usual human existential bullshit remotely, all the while lounging in perfect comfort up on its Astral cloud! (Kind of like the Mars Rover exploration vehicle, remote-controlled out of NASA headquarters.)

We're still brainstorming the company name. I'd like us to go with "Soulbot Creative Astral Machines, Inc."  Some of the guys here say they don't feel entirely cool with that, though they can't quite put their finger on the problem. Maybe that's something you could help us with.

Be that as it may, primarily what remains are the political and legal challenges. And that, Tabby, is where you can really shine for us! We could really use your political credibility, telegenic media charisma, and overall gravitas to help us get KOC approval. We need to insure that Karma Kredits earned on the SOULBOT have the same legal-tender status as Kreds earned the old-fashioned way, down in the meat. Futhermore, we want the TSOA amended to allow for souls to hire another soul to act in their stead. Like a babysitter type of concept. After all, even without feeling the smacks and humiliation of actual physical existence, we recognize it could get plain dull having to watch your own incarnation on the monitor up to 16 or more hours every day. We are working on automation software, but in the meantime we need a TSOA tweak to allow low-wage temp workers to be hired to man the consoles for high net worth Oversouls that have more important things to do than hold their human incarnation's hand all day long. We'll need some PR help too, with certain demographics that are bound to oppose this epochal advance. The hyper-macho Calvinist throwback types and other dinosaurs will fight us tooth and nail in a rearguard action to re-impose their tiresome "adversity builds character" thing, and we'll need you to beat them back.

So bottom line: Tabby, will you come on our Board of Directors? The honorarium is extremely generous and you travel to all Board meetings at our expense including a lavish per diem. Of course we do require commitment of a certain level of personal investment, just a trivial formal requirement for all Officers of the Company - merely to demonstrate you have some skin in the game.

Please join us in upgrading the old (highly effective) Christian marketing buzzline "Death, where is thy sting?" to our 21st century version: "Life, where is thy sting?"

- Botsters

Dear Bsters,

Man, I am gonna have to hire a secretary to filter the junk mail around here! Yet another crazy-ass internet offer email. Bit better than the usual whisker-elongation gizmos and tail-chase performance enhancement pills I'm usually bombarded with. Sorry guys, my funds are all tied up with my own company, manufacturing and marketing self-cleaning litter boxes. Promotional material enclosed.

Advice: Soul on Ice

Dear Tabby,

I had a pretty good life as a guy on the Earth Plane, late 20th century time frame. I was a shrewd businessman and I owned a lot of real estate, several Lamborghini sports cars, trophy wife, and other emblems of worldly success. As I got older, I thought what a shame to leave all this stuff behind so I arranged for my body to be cryonically frozen. My bod is now stored in a corporate cryonics facility pending the future time when they are gonna defrost me and bring me to life again. But meanwhile, since I've been up here on the Astral Plane, I've been having second thoughts. Things are great up here Tabby! Why didn't somebody tell me before? Perfect year-round climate, all-day sunshine, infinite soul sex opportunities, why, it's better than Marin County in the 70's! But Earth Plane high tech is advancing so rapidly, I fear the day is not far off when those earthlings are going to start thawing me out - and I don't want to be brought back to physical life anymore! However, they're bound by their contract to attempt it, and I'm afraid they might succeed. Then I'll be stuck right back down there again, in all that material mud. How can I get out of this?

Please advise asap,

- Deal-Breaker

Dear Tabby,

I've never heard of you, but a friend told me you are some kind of super guru or something so I thought what the hell I'll try this guy. Here's the thing: I was recently human incarnated on the Earth Plane. But I had lots of problems, so I committed suicide to see if that could bring about an uptick in my prospects. But all I found here on the Astral Plane is a bunch of tiresome Spirit Guide busybodies constantly harping on how I shouldn't oughta have done that (knocked myself off),and those bozo's are really getting on my nerves! Plus things are kind of dim and foggy everyday, it's gloomy. And my fellow Astral inmates around here are no fun at all, bunch of addicts and druggies and gloom-n-doom mongers, basically they're all hungry ghosts and pretas. I'm sick of it. I want to go back to Earth, but then I think about starting over as a baby again, the whole birth and childhood thing, what a total drag. Isn't there some easier way to just get back there, and touchdown again with a driver's license, some cash in the bank, not starting totally from zero? Basically I just need a functioning adult body, preferably a rich one. I'm gotten so desperate I even checked out an Incarnation Agency this morning, to try for a "Walk-In" lease on a good human body, but the guy there told me to forget about it. He said if I'd of contacted them last week it would've been a breeze to set something up, but it seems that just yesterday some jackass internet columnist started slandering the Incarnation Agencies and warning about the Walk-In solicitation industry being a big fraud, and all the human-body rental prospects read this asshole's warning so now the whole operation has to go to ground for a while. Boy how I'd like to wring that dickwad's scrawny neck!

Anyway, I'm desperate to get back in a human body! Can't you do anything?

- Dead-Waker

Dear Breaker and Waker,

You humans just crack me up. Really. You slay me, you really do. DB, meet DW. I'll let you guys take it from here. I'm sure you know what to do.

Best of luck,
Tabby (Match-Maker)

Advice: Next Big Move

Dear Tabby,

I'm a young-ish soul, only been through 3 million or so Earth Plane lives, and so far only as an insect or animal (no offense!). Now on my next go-round, I really think I'm ready to make the big step up to a human life! My question is, what socio-cultural identity will be best for me? The Chinese seem to be hot right now and getting ever more so, but that air pollution! Meanwhile the Anglo's have a nice killer-ape Alpha-chimp power vibe going, but are they slipping from their inside edge lately? And overall it seems that the Equatorial/tropical guys have the most fun - or at least, their dances are best.

What would you do Tabby?

- Ambitious Un-Affiliated Proto-Soul

Dear PS,

Look, you are basically barking (excuse my language) up the wrong tree here , as your letter seems to place humans at the apex of the earth scene, which I don't really buy into. But since you ask what type of human to become, I would answer "None of the Above". Not that we animals really want you back  either (no offense!) but merely saying that you can do better, reach higher than human. See, the humans started out as pack animals, evolved through being herd animals, and are now beginning the long march to hive animal status. Heading for total lockdown! Which is fine, there's much to be said for the absolute elimination of thought, freedom, and individuality.

But why settle for half-measures? If I were you, starting out on a clean slate without the karmic hangover that human life usually entails, I'd leapfrog the whole game by jumping straight into a life as an space-alien Gray. You know those pics showing a baldy, scrawny, pencil-neck, gray-skinned guy, with huge lidless black eyes, zero nose, and a slit for a mouth? Ultimate hive animal! And with the humans fouling their own nest so bad, I figure these Grays will swoop in and clean up on fire-sale-priced Planet Earth real estate before long. And if not, even if the humans manage to pull through, they themselves are mutating into spineless, soulless, hive-dwelling, technoid, insectoid Grays anyway. They're becoming aliens on their own planet. So why not jump the gun, beat the crowd, and get yourself a leg up?

Best of all, the Grays have the most kick-ass hyper-advanced weaponry, which is all the humans really care about anyway, supremely cool shit like Totalizer(tm) planetary dematerialization torpedoes.

Advice: Rental Scam

Dear Tabby,

I'm an ordinary young Earth-plane woman, just another human like anybody else, trying to make ends meet between full-time work and part-time school (Medical Assistant program). Recently, I don't know if somebody noticed I'm a bit cash-strapped or what, but I got an email from somebody saying they want to rent my body. The message said that they need to use my body for their "Walk-In" accommodation program, and they promise keep it up in very good condition, and I'll be paid a huge sum (26 million KarmaKredits) for the rental. Frankly I am a bit pinched financially lately, so I'm  kinda tempted to go for it.

What would you advise?

- Tight This Month

Dear Tight,

This is a complete scam! Please don't go near it with a ten-foot pole. Many young women have been receiving these emails but typically any unsolicited "Walk-In" offer constitutes a total fraud. Basically, a "Walk-In" is a soul who desires the human physical-plane experience, but without going through the unbelievable hassle of an actual human birth and childhood. Can't blame them for that, but in their pursuit of materiality without tears, they often run roughshod over the body-owner's property rights. Typically you would be required to vacate yourself for the term of the sublet, while the Walk-In takes possession of your mind, body, appearance, and human social existence. It's basically a form of legalized Identity Theft on steroids.

First of all, when you respond to such a solicitation you aren't dealing with your prospective tenant directly. This is merely an Incarnation Agency, trolling with spam. They will typically claim it's a time-bounded temporary rental, but many cases have been reported of the Walk-In soul failing to vacate when the lease expires. When that happens, the soul currently in possession has the presumption of prior right, and the whole thing needs to be adjudicated by the High Akashic Courts, which can easily drag into millenia.

Also, many cases have been reported of failure to maintain the property (your body) in acceptable condition, upon vacating the premises. Often the physical, emotional, and social damage done to your human existence in your absence runs to many times the amount of the security deposit.

Additionally, many Walk-In hosts have accepted cash only to realize later that they've been paid counterfeit KarmaKred bills. Be sure to carefully inspect all KK notes received as payment in any questionable transaction such as this. Please also consider that the exchange rate between KarmaKreds and US dollars really sucks. The KarmaKred, backed as it is by Universal Morality, Saintliness, Altruism, and the Golden Rule, is pretty much completely worthless on the Earth Plane - many millions of KK's to the dollar.

Lastly, you need to think about your own lodging costs while the renter is in possession of your body. You may need to get your own short-term Walk-In sub-let; typically these are not the highest quality human lives. Alternatively you can move to a shared accommodation with friends, but unless you are on really good personal terms with the other roommates and the owner, this option can bring up its own set of challenges (cf. American Psychiatric Association DSM-III - Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD); revised to Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) as of DSM-IV).

How to recognize a Walk-In rental scam:

* The solicitation emails from Incarnation Agencies usually contain notable grammatical errors.
* The "story" often  has a sense of urgency about it, needing to find a body for Walking-In within the next month; sometimes the story has inconsistencies as well.
* The prospective tenant wants to use an intermediary (channeler or spirit medium) to make payment.

How to avoid a Walk-In rental scam:

* Never accept more payment than the amount you request (such acceptance may be construed by the Karmic Kourts in some Etheric jurisdictions as consituting tacit forefiture of your physical body).
* Always ask for references from the prospective tenant's Spirit Guides.
* Google the potential tenant's name in the Akashic Records and see if anything of concern comes up.