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Oh yeah she’s so lonely she just wansta curl up an die, an if she ain’t dead already maaan you sure know the reason why. It’s early in the morning an she wansta die an when its evening she still wansta die, but she sure ain’t dead yet, an maaan you know the reason why.

Java’s still on his Lennon trip – he gets that way sometimes with one his very favourite lyricists, using a song to inspire his craziness. And that White Album didn’t help none, as it just jogged his unconscious and renewed old memories that lay dormant until now.

Her mind’s a whirling dervish as she spins herself away from fantasy to ecstasy and back to yesterday, but she be so looonnneely – wansta die, but she ain’t dead already an maan you know the reason why

The maggots in her brain transmute into stars that shoot across the sky, the flesh decays like the words she says but never ever dies. She be looonnneely – wansta die, but she ain’t dead already an maan you know the reason why

Storm clouds darken the sky and thunder shakes her soul, she’s contemplatin suicide but loves her rock ‘n roll. She be looonnneely – wansta die, though she ain’t dead already, an maan you know the reason why

Her man’s a motherfucker who played her for a fool, he bent her will but she loves him still even though he stopped being cool, so she’s looonnneely – wansta die, though she ain’t dead already, an maan you know the reason why

Looks like that’s all from Java, as he abandoned his effort and drifted off to spacing out to another Lennon track. Just hope he gives this a break for a bit.

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Java’s on this trip about celestial bodies recently – not the kind of celestial bodies that RD revels in (or on), but the kind that flash in the night sky. Just last week when we were tripping out at Flowerbook we both noticed Venus shining a little extra bright, but what intrigued us both was the other bright body not far from Venus. Then just yesterday we get this mail from Kranzloid that tells us about a celestial event that’s happening as we write. Check it out here if you are that way inclined.

Trying to locate the bodies in Colombo was a major bummer due to the weather conditions, but hopefully in a few days we will be at Flowerbook and should be in time for the grand finale. And if it is a clear sky, we will be in for a treat, as with the lack of ambient light the night sky at Flowerbook is such that the stars and planets look like footballs in comparison to what they look like from Colombo.

So fingers are star-crossed!

With the touch of a satin hand like a reptile on a sheet of glass, the man with the mulitcoloured lenses on his black-eyed shades, lied through his teeth while his brain was busy working overtime, a token for his spouse who knew nothing of his tryst with the Federal Reserve.

Roll me a joint for I’m going down, down past the places I’ve been to uptown, roll me a joint as I’m going down…..

Java’s been tripping out again – this time inspired through Lennon’s plaintive vocals on Happiness is a warm gun.  There we were spacing out and watching bits of Mumbai burn and wondering where and when these fundamental crazies will see the light. Java had turned the TV sound off and put the White Album on – a much better option than listening to the commentary on insanity. His current stash was of the highest quality, so it didn’t take much to achieve the heights that allow for consciousness-stretching.

Mother Inferior say your prayers for Father Immaculate dying upstairs, Mother Inferior say your prayers. Happiness ain’t a stone cold fish, eyes glazed an all an all, happiness ain’t where them stocks tumble an fall, an happiness ain’t a cold dick in a wet warm fleshy cunzlebun. No, happiness is a swarm of butterflies in the sun

She’s not a chick who talks a lot – no no no no no nooo waayy. She’s not so used to that touch of his satin hand like a reptile sliding on that sheet of glass, glistening like those multicoloured lenses on his black-eyed shades, lying on his ass while his hand is busy sliding down her thighs in memory of his wife and her varicosed nether regions that he took when he was filled with remorse

Roll him a joint for he’s going down, down to the place that he left up-town. Roll him a spliff as he’s going down.

Happiness ain’t a limp lump, oh no it ain’t. Happiness ain’t a short stump, oh  no mamma, so when he takes you in his arms and runs his pistol down your thinger can you stand the pain of desire when you know that happiness is a tight plum – no it ain’t.

Happiness is a swarm of dragonflies in the sun.

Yes it is.

‘Falling out’ is an interesting phenomenon, isn’t it? Folk ‘fall out’ of relationships that have sometimes endured for masses of time and in the process have accumulated all manner of attachments and emotions concerning the individuals involved. So usually, the ‘falling out’ brings with it a host of feelings that are, for the most part, ‘negative’ and that could include sorrow, anger, bewilderment, disgust and more. The very term ‘falling out’ connotes ‘pain’ – as in falling out of a moving vehicle or anything else for that matter, where the greater the ‘impact’, the greater the ‘pain’.

So what is it that causes years of closeness and intimacy to disintegrate into feelings that generate negative emotions? Obviously it is something that begins with disagreements that can not be easily resolved – and then the egos come into play. Values clash and words and actions provide grist for the mill churning out the effects that will gradually build the barriers that eventually halt any further progress of the relationship. And it is then that the degree of the ‘attachment’ results in the intensity of the effects on the individuals concerned. In other words, the stronger the ‘attachment’ or ‘bond’ that existed, the greater the mental anguish – whether it be sorrow, anger or frustration – or a combination of these and other states of mind that were caused by the relationship.

The ‘falling out’ phenomenon is not confined to individuals, but also extends to other human constructs like organizations, states and countries. And in these ‘relationships’ the effects are exponentially increased due the myriad complexities involved and often result in wars and other destructive actions. But that’s not what this post is about, so to get back to the crux of it, ‘falling out’ is more usually a bummer than not – for all those involved

But what is the remedy for the effects that fallout brings about? It is a kind of ‘radiation’ that results, analogous to that of nuclear ‘fallout’, the only difference is that it doesn’t contaminate with poison everything that comes in contact with either of the individuals concerned – or does it? Some fall-outs do, in fact, help contaminate some of those who are in contact with the individuals – contaminate through information concerning the other person involved. Whether the information is biased, true or completely false, it will have an effect, and that effect will in turn affect other relationships. So a ‘remedy’ will, in effect, have to result in minimizing or even eliminating the effects of the falling out.

Java says he’s working on it, although he seems to think that as long as ‘attachment’ prevails in the individuals concerned in a relationship that ends in them ‘falling out’, the effects this brings about will be inevitable.

How do you see it?

“…life is just a load of moments strung together and happiness can come from focusing on enjoying each moment as it happens, without thinking about what’s next.” That’s a quote from a book RD was reading and that he included in the post he bunged in just before he took off for a whole week of fun and games in Singapura. Weird, but Java was pondering on the very same phenomena yesterday when he was in one of those reflective moments that he sometimes gets immersed in.

As he understands it, ‘time’ is the interval, or space, between ‘thought’ and ‘action’ (something he picked up from Krishnamurthi, no doubt), so that if there was no ‘thought’, ‘time’ would cease to exist. This is the same state, he said, that practitioners of meditation techniques strive to achieve – where the ‘voice’ (or ‘voices’ for some) in the head, are silent. In short, no ‘thought’. So the moment that the ‘voice’ gets activated again, ‘time’ is operative once more for the individual.

‘Now’ is a millionth, or more, of a nano-second, so that if one were to contemplate ‘now’, it would be gone before the ‘voice’ has the ‘time’ to assess it. So RD’s quote about “focusing” on the moment “without thinking about what’s next” is, in Java’s view, pretty much where it’s at, in terms of being ‘here and now’.

Of course he was quick to point out that ‘here now’ is also ‘now here’ or ‘nowhere’.

Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty Four was prescient in so many ways – and now Big Brother is a reality – pretty much. But there’s one aspect of the human psyche that Orwell exposes that may not have occurred to the general public at the time – or even now – and that is his concept of Doublethink. What’s more, this phenomenon operates consistently – in the individual, in administrations of all types, as well as in the collective psyche.

Doublethink is described by Orwell as “The power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one’s mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them….To tell deliberate lies while genuinely believing in them, to forget any fact that has become inconvenient, and then, when it becomes necessary again, to draw it back from oblivion for just so long as it is needed, to deny the existence of objective reality and all the while to take account of the reality which one denies — all this is indispensably necessary. Even in using the word doublethink it is necessary to exercise doublethink. For by using the word one admits that one is tampering with reality; by a fresh act of doublethink one erases this knowledge; and so on indefinitely, with the lie always one leap ahead of the truth

Sounds familiar? Just look around, and within, with as much objectivity you can summon. Of course Orwell was projecting his view of a state of governance, and here and now we could see Doublethink exercised to extremes by administrations just about everywhere – not least in Sri Lanka, where recent attempts to muzzle independent media are being confronted.

Orwell goes on to describe the protagonist’s thought process when he ponders on Doublethink:

His mind slid away into the labyrinthine world of doublethink. To know and not to know, to be conscious of complete truthfulness while telling carefully-constructed lies, to hold simultaneously two opinions which cancelled out, knowing them to be contradictory and believing in both of them; to use logic against logic, to repudiate morality while laying claim to it, to believe that democracy was impossible and that the Party was the guardian of democracy; to forget whatever it was necessary to forget, then to draw it back at the moment when it was needed, and then promptly to forget it again: and above all, to apply the same process to the process itself. That was the ultimate subtlety: consciously to induce unconsciousness, and then, once again, to become unconscious of the act of hypnosis you had just performed. Even to understand the word ‘doublethink’ involved using doublethink”.

It’s a phenomenon we’re stuck with and the only way out would be some genetic shift that would alter consciousness enough to see the ‘truth’ and stick with it.

Tough task!

Good old RD has tagged me – again! Just because I love it so much – being tagged, that is. And since I love him so much, I can’t help myself – so here goes:

I’ve never…

Walked on the moon

Been inside a whale

Jammed with John Lennon

Glimpsed Nirvana (not the band) for long enough

Mastered time-travel – yet

Got over my distaste for this tagging shit

Hope that will do RD – and since the tradition must be unbroken, I shall duly tag Gallicissa, Sanjana, Defence Net,  Jathika Chinthana Pravahaya.

Java’s just returned from one of those brief sojourns in his psychic (or was it psychedelic?) wilderness. One could never be certain. Anyway, he came out with another one of those pithy sayings, as he sometimes does:

Hey maan, yo know folk deserve what dey get – so dey should be tankful fo what dey have, ‘stead of moanin’ bout dat sheet dey want.

Can’t say I disagree.

It just pisses me off when the folk that one is supposed to work with sit on their butts and take things for granted instead of responding to requests for information or something else that is work-related. And then, what is even worse is when they take offense at one’s impatience to get the required information. Java is, thankfully, on the same trip as I am (for a change!), so when he experienced procrastination, without any explanation for the delay, at his current work-place (yeah, he actually does work once in a blue-moon), he responded with a cutting bit of sarcasm at the poor sod who was to blame. I saw the e-mail he sent, so know exactly how the recipient would have felt.

What happened next made things even more interesting. Java received a smart-ass response from the object of his derision telling him to “relax”!!! Knowing Java only too well, I could sense that the shit would hit the fan and the bits and pieces of excrement would surely find their way back to the idiot who had the balls to take old Java lightly. And I was right. A scathingly sarcastic mail was zapped right back – all very cool and collected on the outside, but anyone with even a modicum of insight could tell what the message implied. Even I had to admit that it was really a classy put-down in no uncertain terms. And then, after the required information was received – soon after the classy put-down – Java gets a mail from the boss of the moron who was responsible for the series of events, trying to justify the delay and telling him, in effect, not to be a prima-donna! Major mistake on her part!!

Even at the best of times Java revels in expressing himself in caustic terms that are guaranteed to pierce even the thickest of hides when he gets indignant at what he considers to be a banal attempt to justify bullshit. And so he expressed himself lucidly, to the point, and with all the panache of a true slayer of the extra-mundane. The moron’s boss probably had enough sense not to respond to Java’s deadly missive, possibly because the mail was copied to her boss as well, who just happens to be a close personal mate of ours and who would, no doubt, have sussed what was going down here, as well as there in the office he occupied abroad.

Sure enough, a conciliatory mail soon arrived in Java’s mailbox from the ‘big boss’ telling all concerned to get back to being chilled and promising to remedy the procrastination-malady existing over there. His parting suggestion to Java was to keep smiling and stay stoned so that there would then be less chance of aggression through cyber-mail landing in his mailbox.

And that was all Java needed to do the needful.

It wasn’t Obama’s victory that set Java off on a trip about how America has the capacity to rise beyond setbacks, rather, it was more to do with Colin Powell’s endorsement that, if one read between the lines, was an apology to the American people for the part he played in the Bush administration – particularly regarding its disastrous war in Iraq. Or so Java said.

But that was yesterday.

Sarah Palin-drone had given it her best shot. She knew that she had started something of a revival of a floundering campaign when she did her “pit-bull with lipstick” impersonation at her VP nomination acceptance speech and had all those red-neck mammas and pappas clamoring for more. But she did regret her indiscretion and perhaps, she thought, her overconfidence in her abilities of going one-one-one with the press, in spite of the think-tank’s warnings that she would blow it. And she had to admit, she did – blow it, that is. The words just didn’t come out right when she tried to answer some of the questions that smart ass Couric put to her on foreign policy – or was it the state of the economy? She couldn’t even remember it now – it was such a stupid question anyway. So when she saw her answer in print, she could have sworn that someone, somewhere, had altered her sentences – they made no sense whatsoever – even to her. The hell with it – Todd understood, even though Johnny Mac (she had pet names for everybody) wasn’t too pleased and told her not to shoot her mouth off if she wasn’t sure of what she was saying.

And after that, Johnny Mac’s Mafiosi kept her locked in her box with a special panel of experts feeding her information on a variety of topics, whilst another couple of nerds coached her on how to answer questions without saying anything of substance – vagueness and obfuscation being the name of their game. The vacuity that existed in her head helped no end and all she should remember was to keep the ‘pit-bull’ attack mode in gear and repeat the mantra of ‘redistribution of wealth’ and ‘the dangers of Socialism’. The red-necked fans of hers would do the rest. She didn’t want to join Joe the Plumber on the trail too much, as she didn’t want Todd throwing any more of his tantrums – although she loved it when he displayed his jealousy.

Now that it was all over and ‘The Socialist’ had beaten them, she had a variety of options going for her. She would get back to governing Alaska with renewed vigour and play her cards close to her chest – all thirty-eight inches of it. There had been speculation that she would try to lead the Republicans and even prepare for 2012, which would be a gas. But she would have to plan her course of action, starting now.

And so she got back home to Alaska, got her brood ready to go, packed in the camping gear and hunting paraphernalia, ice-box, booze and other goodies and set off to shoot some wildlife. That should relieve some of that stress – and besides, she wouldn’t have to think too hard.