The Parable of Ancestral Clairvoyance: The view from GR 9987-6B3

You see, I'm tuning into the fragile mindbody of the planet, here in the ancient town of Kathmandu, where the psychic hustle is beginning as I'm looking now into the old mind influences of our long and evolving human history, and the tantric planet is greeting Mahakala in the tourist ghetto of Thamel which lies somewhere in this region of imaginary mind comets and psychic moonlight. Where I have now discovered these old and multiple cycles of time, space, and matter.

Could there really be this universal spiritual language just underneath the dark surfaces of this cloggy mind wind, as beings go wild inside these slippery human realms. I'm now meeting at this tourist cafe this " ungrounded and confused " witch as I track those double visions and religious fusions inside the secret nadis of the Earth and underneath the world's itchy psychic skin. What a vortex story this Harvest saga is, and this terma too. I just need a criss-crossing mirror now for these subtler cognitive models; and for the coming house-cleaning of our newly emerging psychic civilization. That's speeding now towards an evolutionary kind of global mind.

And the tourist touts pester me endlessly with their postcards that flap now in the ghostly winds pointing towards this shifting and eccentric e-mail that comes from that digital mind circus; and it's this lightning fusion inside this gastric and green planet as the mind and matter sciences fight each other for this noxious control; and, you know, mind death now seems like the only way out of this big mess; and all these ancient nomads and glimmering settlers are still churning the mind energies found within these shadowy and glorious cycles that pulse and lead to these huge and new psychic visions, and the mind wars just get bigger and so do all the tribal uprisings, I think the ancient church and the shifty state are in this trouble as the planet shrinks; and new and shocking kinds of spiritual values sorely needed now more than ever.

For there is this strange kind of planetary power inside this sorcerer's valley. You see, it's what all these crazies simply call this new mind life. It's just the awakening mind of the new and bold Atlantis; and it's the subtle manipulation of psychic energy. It's like Basho and Bach now quietly incubating; and what is needed in this crazy scene is just a new spiritual insurance policy. It's just the necessary purification that's needed before all these subtle energy manipulations can finally become life sustaining; and you see, this fleshy art inside the Earth's new mind skin is really just the highest sort there is; and it's so secret and strange to all those who have somehow been left high and dry and not really initiated.

And there's all kinds of recyclings going on with all these strange and awkward variations based on Venus and Uranus and their new religious symbols; and also all these huge and vast image translations coming now from Saturn and Pluto; and you see, I'm looking back at these past global minds to see the currently emerging one a little bit better.

So look deep inside the violent slash and fuse, and see that here there are now these subtle connections. Can you see these galactic pictures imbued with their subtle atoms of death; it's just this wild mind poetry. And you know, the cultural accumulations are being roasted daily inside this muscular landscape, and it's those lonely helix strands and those subtle separations that are protecting now the sacred snakes and the big lizards. These psychic police are on the look-out here for all kinds of seedy-like and spiritual illnesses.

And you know I think there's this strange army digging away as I search for my newest yum. She's just a jitter agent. You know, I thought at first she was German, and she was just eating in this Thai restaurant, and I'm sure she wore those chilly-loined glasses and sat up straight with these nice big breasts, and it was this tingling mythological introduction and it was only for shamans who were perhaps monastically inclined, and simply at odds with jihads; and with systems science.

And every seaman's museum I saw offered up this demon's blood; and finally, you know, it was at the conquering stupa that I saw those bold throngs of screaming Canannites and these sixty-nine Buddhists doing calisthenics who owned all those sleek and shiny Hondas; and who then chased all those erotic and desperate yums; and then the yabs finally said "Hello" to all those crazy Shintoists and Hinbus; and to all the lazy Greeks and the sex-crazed Muslims with their powerful shields and mudras.

It was just this fierce kind of Confucian asana bending down slowly in crazy Kathmandu, and there were these stormy Zoroastrian aliens, and there were also these confused Africans wearing this cheap and repetitive Mayan camouflage for both Jesus and Osiris and I saw the Hassids leaning next to the colored jukebox, and I started to talk to Emily Dickinson, and it was just near the stupa that Kali with her extreme belching told me she had seen these Mesopotamian demons dreaming of these tasty and sweet Norwegian babes who were revealing with their white skin those wild divinations that were just hinting of this galactic mind just millions of miles from the sun.