The Nazgûl Rule in Malaysia! (revisited)

WHO ARE THE NAZGÛL? HERE'S A CONCISE SUMMARY I FOUND ON THE WEB...

The Nazgûl, or Ringwraiths, were Sauron's most terrible servants. They were originally mortal Men. Sauron gave them the Nine Rings of Power in order to enslave them to his will and they became Wraiths.

Little is known of the original identities of the Nazgûl. Three were said to be great lords of Numenor. One was an Easterling named Khamul. He is the only one whose name is known.

At first the Men who received the Nine Rings used them to gain power and wealth for themselves. They became great kings, sorcerers, and warriors. The Nine Rings made the Men invisible and prolonged their lives.

But eventually, the Men bearing the Nine Rings fell completely under the control of Sauron. They could not disobey him and no longer had wills of their own. Some of the Men were quickly enslaved, while others who had greater native strength or goodness took longer.

The Nazgûl were condemed to exist only in the Wraith-world. Their lives were stretched out until their very existence was torture. They were permanently invisible except when they wore black robes to give themselves a visible shape. Sauron and anyone who wore the One Ring could see them in their Wraith forms, as pale figures with burning eyes, grey hair, grey and white robes, and silver helms.

The Nazgûl perceived the Unseen world, but much of what they saw were phantoms and delusions created by Sauron. They could not see well in the physical world of light, and in the noonday sun they could see nothing. They saw people as shadows. However they could see one another clearly even in daylight and from far away. In the darkness they were most dangerous because they could perceive things that ordinary people could not.

Their sense of smell was acute. They could smell the blood of living things, which they envied. They could also sense the One Ring, and they could see the person wearing it even though he was invisible to others. In turn the Ring sensed the Nazgûl. Frodo Baggins was tempted to put on the Ring when the Nazgûl were near so that the Ring could return to Sauron.


The Nazgûl were able to speak to people using the Common Speech, though their voices sounded strange and unpleasant. They called to one another with piercing, blood-curdling cries. They could hear one another across great distances.

There was a sense of fear and dread around the Nazgûl and the air around them felt cold. People could feel the presence of Nazgûl without even seeing them. In fact, the feeling of fear was strongest when the Nazgûl were invisible, without their black robes. The terror was also greatest in the darkness and when all nine of the Nazgûl were together.

Terror was the main weapon of the Nazgûl. Few people had the willpower to stand against them. The Nazgûl exuded a miasma known as the Black Breath which caused illness and even death in those who were exposed to it.

Animals were also terrified of the Nazgûl. The black horses that the Nazgûl rode were trained to endure them. The horses were born in Mordor, but they may have been bred from stock stolen from Rohan. Later in the War of the Ring, Sauron gave the Nazgûl new mounts - terrible winged creatures known as Fell Beasts.

The Nazgul did have some weaknesses. The eight Nazgûl excluding the Lord of the Nazgûl feared water, and they did not like to cross rivers except over bridges. They could endure the Sun, but the eight lesser Nazgûl tended to become confused in daylight when they were alone and their power was diminished. They also hated fire.

Elves were among the few beings the Nazgûl feared, particularly the High Elves who had lived in the Undying Lands because they had power in the Unseen world. The Nazgûl also feared the Powers known as the Valar, especially Elbereth who created the Stars and was revered by the Elves.

The Nazgûl did not have great physical power against those who did not fear them. However, they could not be killed by ordinary means. Most weapons could not harm them, and any blade that touched the Lord of the Nazgûl disintegrated.

It took a special sword - forged by the Dunedain and wound with spells - to strike the blow that rendered the Lord of the Nazgûl powerless. Flames from the eruption of Mount Doom destroyed the other eight Nazgûl. But ultimately it was the destruction of the One Ring to which they were bound that ensured that the Nazgûl would never arise again.

Banish the Nazgûl... Return to Lothlorien!

[First posted 16 October 2008]

Are humans a laboratory experiment gone wrong? Join the Monster March!

An ode to the most insidious monster in history.

Track Produced by Julez, taken from the album Julez available at http://julezthemc.bandcamp.com/album/...

filmed by Peter Haren at Magick River, while a guest of superhero, Antares, near KKB, Malaysia.

[First posted 9 January 2011]

16 MERDEKAS DOWN THE LINE... (revisited)

These MERDEKA MUSINGS were first sent out as an email on 31 August 2003. They were subsequently published on this blog on 3 February 2007. As I haven't had the inspiration to write anything new, I'm recycling this essay. Interestingly, I only had to update three things: the age of Malaysia as an "independent" nation was altered from 44 to 56, and I inserted something about maid abuse and custodial deaths...



HERE WE ARE, a 56-year-old nation in mid-life crisis but vehemently denying there’s anything the matter with us. It’s that kiasu neighboring country or those jealous jew-funded westerners – THEY are to blame for all our economic woes!

What about the rising rate of petty thefts, armed robberies, brutal rapes, senseless murders, abuse of domestic help and deaths in police custody? Is that an inevitable by-product of “progress”? Or is it simply due to a gross imbalance in per capita incomes resulting from a rigged and uneven fiscal playing field – coupled with a hypocritical attitude towards our affection-craving animal selves, wherein public puritanism increases in direct proportion to private perversion?

Human rights and environmental abuses? The goddam Yanks are the prime culprits – well, actually they ARE, look at their secret mind control projects and the havoc they have been wreaking all over the world in the name of “freedom” - but this essay is about US, not the U.S., even if our flags look pretty alike.

And, besides, the U.S. is only a strong-arm front for the ancient Babylonian Brotherhood which has, over thousands of years, quietly opened branches throughout the globe and is thus the prime mover of the One-World-Order “globalization” agenda (read The Biggest Secret by David Icke; you may be put off by Icke’s tabloid-style muckraking, but the muck is there for sure and we ignore it at our own peril).

MALAYSIA IS CLEAN AND GREEN (my foot!)

I used to get hot under the collar hearing about rampant crony capitalism and the high-level corruption it invariably breeds. Not any more. The corporate crime that works hand-in-glove with institutionalized religion and big military seems endemic to this planet, not just this country. Scandals on the scale of Enron and World.com put our own homegrown ones to shame. I used to think we were living in a dictatorship, an authoritarian police state. Well, compared to what’s going on in America – especially since John F. Kennedy was assassinated and a cloak-and-dagger cabal muscled its way into the White House - we’re practically a Polynesian paradise.

We can no longer take comfort in the notion that we’re not as poorly off politically as folks in Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Indonesia, or Myanmar – nor can we aspire towards the degree of civil liberties and administrative accountability we naïvely believed were to be found in mature “democracies” like Britain, the US, Australia, Canada or New Zealand. Indeed, we no longer have any authentic rôle models, no one to emulate. It’s time to grow up and cultivate our own true identity as Malaysians, and quit wanting to be just like anybody else.



SO WHAT IS OUR "TRUE IDENTITY"?

Just what constitutes “a “global” Malaysian? RM5 billion buildings, RM500,000 cars, RM5,000 suits, and RM50 haircuts are hardly the hallmarks of success – contrary to what local policymakers may think. Five million flags waving from shophouses, cars, and in sweaty schoolkids’ hands are not the true signs of patriotism – even if it all looks mighty festive. It’s all a mere display – and everyone knows it.

But in a culture that’s founded on face-saving, cosmetic appearances are all-important. Even if you can’t afford it, you have to entertain your guests with a lavish wedding dinner at a 5-star hotel. So many people buying and flying the Jalur Gemilang (“Brilliant Stripes” - that’s what we call the Malaysian flag) must mean people are quite happy with the ruling party, right?



I’ve spotted vans with as many as ten flags fluttering from their roofs. Recently I saw a teenaged boy on a BMX with a full-sized Jalur Gemilang affixed to his tiny bike. It was an amusing sight indeed – but I couldn’t help thinking the kid would be equally proud flying the KFC, Nike, Manchester United, Hand Brand Groundnuts or Selangor Football Club insignia.

Amongst shopkeepers it would appear that displaying the Malaysian flag in the weeks leading up to Merdeka serves as some sort of talisman against bad luck (in the form of possible harassment by overzealous local council personnel - such as we seem to have within the Ampang or Subang Jaya Municipal Councils). In other words, not making a public show of “patriotism” may prove inimical to one’s business prospects.

Alas, being a patriot isn’t quite the same thing as showing loyalty to the elected government of the day – but the lines are often blurred, and deliberately so.

From my perspective, pride in our country is best shown in simple gestures like making an effort to keep our streets and drains and parks and forests and beaches garbage-free. Or being vocal about polluting industries and corrupt practices in public office. Or being proud of and sustaining our reputation for hospitality, generosity and warmth towards guests and passing strangers. For that matter, why not let charitability begin at home by being more polite, patient, understanding – and honest - with our own compatriots? Why wait for a major disaster to show the spirit of camaraderie?

My first and only visit to Burma was in 1984 – but I still recall how impressed I was by the honesty of the people I met. For example, the donkey-cart driver who ran after me, anxious to return the wallet I had dropped in his vehicle. Or the smooth-talking street hustler who wanted to buy a pair of jeans from me with a US$100 bill; and when I apologized for not having enough change, quietly advised me never to accept US$100 currency notes from the locals as they were all counterfeit (“You good man, I don’t cheat you, but Israeli, ha ha ha!” he added, which was perhaps the nicest compliment I received in Burma).

I believe the only way we will ever acquire a “true identity” as a nation is by simply allowing – if not actively encouraging – spontaneous cultural expression without attempting to control it with antiquated censorship laws and heavy-handed bureaucratic supervision. Being multiracial and multilingual is a genuine asset – not a liability as some are moved by fear and insecurity to think.

No one can dictate the terms and conditions of artistic flowering. One need only sit back, relax, and let it all happen. Of course, channeling sufficient funds towards supporting homegrown arts practitioners would greatly ease and accelerate the process. But this needs to be done with no overt or covert ethnocentric agenda. Otherwise, the culture we breed will turn out to be sycophantic, insular and syphilitic. And that would be far worse than having no culture at all – and therefore no national identity. Unassuming anonymity is a great deal more appealing – and a lot less self-destructive - than overweening pride and self-proclaimed fame.


[First posted 3 February 2007, reposted 20 August 2009. Cartoon courtesy of Lato' Lat]

Log on, folks - and prepare for more floods! (revisited)

A Statement In The Public Interest (written 16 years ago... and still relevant)

JUNE 10, 2003 – Yet another serious flood in KL, rescuers in dinghies paddling down Jalan Masjid Jamek in the heart of the city. Plaza Putra aswirl in chest-high muddy waters. Dozens of cars and motorbikes drowned. Actors Studio and Dama House wiped out within minutes...

A terrible shame, as floods have been recurring with increasing fury since the early 1970s – long before the proliferation of underground carparks and basement complexes made the potential hazard to life and property truly grievous. And yet, with all the talk of multi-million-ringgit flood mitigation schemes (mainly getting City Hall to keep drains and rivers free of garbage and silt), the situation keeps deteriorating.

I wasn’t particularly impressed when I read the government’s immediate response: the suggestion that “smart tunnels” be constructed to drain floodwaters directly to the sea – an extremely expensive business indeed, with the potential of wreaking further havoc on our coastal ecosystem and perhaps even causing giant sinkholes. Now, the PM may be extraordinarily brilliant as a political strategist but when it comes to environmental problems, he instinctively avoids looking at the root causes and seeking authentic solutions.

Our obsession with economic growth and physical development – and our utter lack of respect for Nature’s workings – lie at the core of our worsening environmental woes.

So much rain falling and instantly turning into flash floods means only two things: the forest canopy has been thinned out through logging, so there’s nothing to soften the impact of heavy rains on hillslopes. Not enough trees to act as a sponge, slowing down the speed and volume of drainage. And the rainwater cannot run off into the ground because so many areas have been paved over in the overnight growth of our big cities.



It has never been more obvious that logging must be abolished with almost immediate effect. There is no such thing as “sustainable” when it comes to destruction of watersheds. It simply has got to stop. True, many jobs hinge around the timber industry – and many private fortunes too. But one may as well argue that the slave trade promotes the GDP and should therefore be licensed and allowed to continue indefinitely.

Indeed, logging is by far a more heinous crime than even the slave trade, which may inflict psychological trauma on its victims, but nothing a dose of freedom won't heal. A despoiled landscape, however, may never fully heal and the environmental consequences impact on everyone – especially future generations.

By now it must a dim wit indeed who doesn't see the direct link between reckless deforestation and the deteriorating environment – whether in terms of massive erosion which leads to rapid silting, hence increased flooding; or deadly landslides caused by human disrespect towards 550 million-year-old hills. And, of course, with patches of green lungs decreasing by the hour, the air itself progressively becomes unbreathable and a perpetual source of respiratory disorders.



I see at least half a dozen lorries laden with logs trundling along the roads every single day. In the middle of the lush Ulu Yam-Sungai Tua forest reserve – now a well-visited recreational area every weekend – loggers have been hard at work. Around the once-verdant foothills near Kuala Kubu Bharu, logging proceeds with impunity. The Forestry Department seems to have learned nothing about conservation since the 1960s when ecological studies began pouring in, showing the hazardous ill-effects of profit-driven logging, especially in watersheds and hillslopes.

Most of the hills surrounding the Klang Valley have long been shorn of their green canopy – hence the dramatic changes in rainfall patterns over the last two decades.

Perhaps a handful of timber tycoons (and the officials on their unofficial payroll) have made a pretty pile – but in the long run the public must bear the high cost of replacing bridges, repairing roads, desilting canals, dams and rivers, not to mention the immeasurable damage to property and the disruption of business caused by worsening flash floods.

For every 10 million ringgit earned by logging concessionaires, the long-term cost to the public purse may well be in the region of 100 million. Measured in macro-economic terms, logging is no longer a viable “economic activity” - simply because we cannot afford its costly negative consequences.

Rather than spend money on stop-gap flood mitigation measures, we have to bite the bullet and stop wreaking irreparable ruin on our precious forests and the few remaining green lungs in our towns and cities. Indeed, we need to work out a systematic and sustained campaign to heal our badly scarred landscape – by planting flowering shrubs and fruit trees on every denuded hill, so that within a few years, even though we have lost our forests, at least the hills will once again be cool, fresh sanctuaries, serving as filters for airborne pollutants and self-renewing sources of oxygen.



Most importantly, they would no longer contribute to the tons of mud that cascade down with every heavy downpour. Now, such a move would constitute what I would define as visionary leadership.

What happens when wood is no longer a cheap and freely available commodity? Well, here's where the innovative use of alternative materials can spawn a whole new generation of industries. For a start, we might consider ways to recycle PVC waste and combine it with organic fibers to produce weatherproof planks. Hemp grows like a weed and can be used in countless ways – from pulp products to fiberboards, fabrics and cosmetics.

The incredible versatility of hemp 

My fervent hope is that within the next few years, the only way we can possibly log on is to the Internet. This would give those involved in the timber industry sufficient time to diversify and seek less dangerous and destructive means of livelihood. Meanwhile, an extremely strict watch must be placed on those responsible for issuing logging permits.

[Originally posted 13 June 2003. Reposted 3 April 2010]

Pranav Mistry and his SixthSense Device: Humanizing the digital-analog interface

This brilliant young man from India is currently developing his breakthrough ideas at MIT Media Lab and he's ready to make his astounding discoveries available to the world through an open-source platform, thereby bypassing narrow commercial interests. Ladies and gentleman, meet a bona fide wunderkind supergenius whizkid named Pranav Mistry...

[Brought to my attention by SeniorsAloud; first posted 18 January 2010]

Navigational Tips For Turbulent Times (reprise)

Be agile and sure-footed. It's really all about self-confidence. Overcome your fear of heights; you just might succeed beyond your wildest expectations!


Be resourceful and expect some occasional rain. Don't let wet weather dampen your spirits. The sun will soon shine again.


Smile, grin and laugh a lot. Doing so alters your biochemical balance and enhances your physical and mental health.

[Images lifted from a forwarded email, first posted 28 January 2010]

In Celebration of Love’s Labors Lost (Part 1)

Radha Krishna and the Gopis

As I lean back now and look back on the life path I have taken since I first stepped out into the world, two recurring motifs dominate the pattern of events.

The first is a hardwired impulse to be free – free of all external compulsions (which is well nigh impossible when you happen to be part of a family, and all of us are). But as one whose birthdate adds up to a 5, numerologists say I’m “one of those people who is always striving to find answers to the many questions that life poses; [that I] want to be totally unrestrained, as this is the sign of freedom and independence.” So I’m only being true to my core nature in cherishing my freedom.

Freedom from debt, for a start. I don’t have a credit card, no overdraft, and I have never once applied for a bank loan. The house I’m living in is in my wife’s name and it was given to her when her entire village was relocated several hundred yards upstream on account of the Selangor Dam. So, no mortgage either - although the fine print says the land the house stands on is on a 99-year lease. We have until the year 2106 to worry about having to move.

The second motif happens to be my susceptibility to love. Some live to work, some to eat, some to make money – I live for love.

My first love was at the tender age of 4, when I shared a bathtub with a neighbor’s daughter, who arrived on earth 11 days ahead of me, and later found myself sitting beside her at kindergarten. I remember how we shared little secrets in class. She was curious to know if boys and girls had similar genitals, and neither of us had a clue – so I drew a simple diagram to show her what mine looked like, and she reciprocated, very demurely, by handing me a piece of paper on which she had written the letter V. I wasn’t satisfied with her response, suspecting there had to be more to it, that she was holding back. Then we got separated in primary school – there were no co-ed schools when I was a kid – and didn’t meet again until we were in our early teens, and I was smitten by her luminous beauty which I noticed for the first time.

When I learnt she was in the habit of roller-skating along the corridors of a school opposite my house most afternoons, I decided to take up roller-skating too – and soon became quite adept at it. But we were both too shy to go beyond smiling at each other and I felt totally tongue-tied when face-to-face with her.

So nothing at all transpired until fate brought us together again when we reached fourth form. I was appointed to the editorial board of a science magazine jointly published by my all-boys school and a nearby girls’ school. At our first informal meeting to discuss the magazine, I was astounded by how mature the girls were compared to me at 15. She and her best buddy, my co-editor, were smoking real cigarettes (not the chocolate ones I was familiar with as a kid) and even driving around without a license.

That’s how I began smoking, and soon I was borrowing my dad’s car to drive – at first up and down the compound, then increasingly further around the neighborhood. Working together on the science magazine project gave me a good excuse to start visiting her in the afternoons after classes. She lived conveniently around the corner from my house, within a 3-minute walk, even less on my bicycle.

Several times a week, I’d perch my cockatoo on the handle bar and ride over to her place. She was usually home. We would sit around her airy front porch and chat till twilight. Each time I saw her she grew more beautiful in my eyes. But I just didn’t know how to shift gears from being her childhood playmate to being her beau. 

So things drifted along for a while sweetly enough, but neither of us wanted to make the first move into adulthood, although I occasionally detected a flirtatious or teasing tone in her glances. I just wanted everything to be perfect between us. The thought of doing something clumsy or saying something inappropriate paralyzed me. Much later in life I realized that the abstract notion of “perfection” itself could be the #1 Killjoy Factor in the human universe…

Anyway, many other events intruded that weren’t part of the pattern of “perfect love” and I took them all in my stride as part of love’s learning curve. As my mind drifts slowly backwards in time, scanning for precious memory fragments to rescue from analog oblivion, I become acutely aware of the many-layered nature of experience: in so many instances, I can’t draw a linear timeline marking one event without then wondering when some other event occurred.

For instance, during the years I didn’t see my first love, I enjoyed quite a few other romantic fantasies. I vaguely recall an alphabetic crush I had for a pig-tailed cutie who played the letter M in some kiddie concert I witnessed around 10. I remember a couple of stiffy-inducing dreams with me playing the letter K and somehow showing up the loutish low-class L who stood between us. I never found out her name, but I bet it began with the letter M...

Then there was WW, baby sister of one of my best buddies in whose home I used to hang out all day after school. My own siblings were much older than I, so I never felt the same sort of intense kinship with them. In this household there was a great deal of family interaction. It was an ideal atmosphere for innocent fun and puppy love to flourish: the stirrings of juicy adolescence, the brief but intense thrill of her foot brushing against mine during a game of Monopoly. I was present when her first period arrived, her face flushed as she hurried towards the bathroom.

I knew nothing about hormones and pheromones then. But I enjoyed the undercurrent of irrational desires and the heady sensation of erotic impulses. These weren’t exactly romantic – primal, more likely. Electromagnetic and biochemical, at least. No guilt was attached to these prurient fantasies; nor were they focused on any specific person. Non-specific lust is what I call this syndrome.

Girls were lovely to dream about, but my everyday reality was populated with boys. Since girls were sexually unavailable, we resorted to making lewd jokes about them; but among ourselves, we were comfortable showing off our erections and competing to see who could shoot his load the furthest. There was ample opportunity for experimentation. Staying over at male friends’ houses presented no problems with parents and it seemed natural for us to have temporary crushes on each other without their becoming full-blown affairs.

Being single-minded about anything has never been a habit of mine - which may explain why I never became a virtuoso in any specific endeavor. Looking back, if I had kept my focus on winning the heart of my first love, ignoring other distractions and settling for nobody else, perhaps we would have ended up as a couple. I can’t imagine what married life would have been like for us – but I’m fairly certain she would have compelled me to become a high flyer in the upper income bracket, since it’s clear she had set her sights on a comfortable lifestyle, being what people would consider a trophy wife. As it turned out, she subsequently dated and married a fellow who became an accountant – while I drifted in the opposite direction, devoting my energies to the arts, after a short-lived stint in the glossy advertising game.

Clark Kent look @ 1968

But I’m getting ahead of my narrative. While all this was going on, I began to visit a couple of pretty sisters – one shy and demure, the other outgoing and vivacious – both of whom eventually became integral parts of my life.

When you’re a teenager it’s very important to appear cool – and to visit a young lady on a rickety bicycle is fairly uncool (especially with a cockatoo perched on the handlebar). Since I had convinced my father that I could drive competently, he rarely protested whenever I asked to borrow his car. I had a schoolmate named Johnny who was always on the lookout for hot chicks. He didn’t have access to a car, so he would sometimes tell me about some nice girl he knew who happened to have good-looking sisters – and we’d go visit them in my dad’s car.

That’s how I got to meet Annie, my French kiss instructor only a year younger than I but slightly more experienced. It was because of Annie I decided to quit wearing glasses (which, prior to my first kissing lesson, I had believed to be a requisite accessory since they made one look smarter and older). We were both wearing glasses when the serious smooching began one sultry afternoon – and the collision of our spectacles almost turned the experience into an episode out of some Woody Allen movie.  Anyway, thank you, Annie – for your wonderful coaching which has served me well through the decades.

(In 2011 Annie tracked me down on facebook. Imagine the great joy I felt to be reconnected with her after 46 years. She's moved on from kissing coach to tai-chi instructor.)

[To be continued...]

Originally posted 1 April 2012, reposted 6 May 2016

THE TRUE MEANING OF CLASS (reprise)

... or A Case of Unimpeachable Decadence

A man goes to the famous Lucas Carton restaurant in Paris with his girlfriend and orders the Mouton Rothschild 1928.

The waiter returns cradling a bottle of the precious wine and pours a small amount in the glass for tasting.

The customer picks up the glass, sniffs the wine, then puts it down on the table with a disdainful sneer: "This is NOT the 1928 Mouton."

The waiter animatedly assures him it is - and soon there are another twenty people surrounding the table - including the maître'd, the chef, and the manager - trying to convince the man that the wine is indeed the 1928 Mouton.

Finally, in exasperation, the manager asks him how he can be so certain that it is not the 1928 Mouton.

"My name is Philippe de Rothschild, and I make that wine."

Hearing this, the waiter hangs his head forlornly in defeat and confesses that he had poured the Clerc Milon 1928.

"I could not bear to part with our last bottle of 1928 Mouton. You know Clerc Milon: the vineyard is in the same village as Mouton; you pick the grapes at the same time, the same cépage. You crush in the same way, you put them into similar barrels, you bottle at the same time; you even use eggs from the same chickens to fine them. The wines are the same, except for a minute and negligible difference in geographical location."

Rothschild beckons the waiter to come closer, and whispers in his ear: "When you return home tonight, ask your girlfriend to remove her underwear. Put one finger in one opening, another finger in the other, then smell both fingers. You will understand the difference a minute variation in geographic location makes."


[Forwarded by Shanghai Fish. First posted 29 January 2010]

A PRAYER FOR YOU ~ by Rob Brezsny (repost)

Rob Brezsny is an aspiring master of curiosity, perpetrator of sacred uproar, and founder of the Beauty and Truth Lab. He writes "Free Will Astrology," a syndicated weekly column that appears in over a hundred other publications and on the Web.

His latest book is called Pronoia Is the Antidote for Paranoia: How All of Creation Is Conspiring To Shower You with Blessings.

As much a storyteller and prophet as astrologer, Brezsny brings a literate, myth-savvy perspective to his work. When Utne Reader named him a "Culture Hero," it observed: "With a blend of spontaneous poetry, feisty politics, and fanciful put-on, Brezsny breathes new life into the tabloid mummy of zodiac advice columns."

In its profile of Brezsny, the New York Times quoted a reader who compared his writing to that of the novelist Tom Robbins. The horoscopes "are like little valentines, buoyant and spilling over with mischievousness. They're a soul prognosis."

Brezsny's docufiction memoir, THE TELEVISIONARY ORACLE, was published in 2000. Coincidentally, Tom Robbins had this to say about the book: "I've seen the future of American literature and its name is Rob Brezsny."

Before The Televisionary Oracle Brezsny's enduring artistic artifacts were music albums, one created as a solo artist and three with the "Jungian beatnik funk" band WORLD ENTERTAINMENT WAR.

Burning Man festival 2001, Oregon

In 2000, after years as a rock musician, Brezsny branched out to develop "Sacred Uproar," a pagan revival show featuring uproarious prayers, chaotic meditations, ritual antics, and musical elixirs.

Burning Man 2001 core group

In one of Sacred Uproar's signature performance art pieces, Brezsny offers revelers the chance to get married to themselves. "Let's all just admit," he says early on in the wedding ceremony, "that none of us is ever likely to find our perfect partner or create the juicy romance we deserve until we first master the art of loving ourselves with great ingenuity."

Working with three freaky collaborators, Brezsny married hundreds of people to themselves at the Plastic Chapel during the Burning Man festival in the summer of 2001. The ecstatic ritual culminated just an hour before the Man himself was burned on Saturday night, September 1st. As the moon rose over the black rocks, the desert air shivered with the sounds of hundreds of blissed-out rapture hounds shouting out the vow "I am a fucking genius" as per Brezsny's instruction.

Believe it or else, beauty and truth fans, it's time for a prayer for YOU.

A prayer to end all prayers. A prayer for everything you've never asked for before, because you weren't sure you deserved it. A special, no-nonsense, hype-free prayer exclusively for you ~ in the most unselfish tone of voice I've ever mustered. Ready?

I am starting to pray right now to the God of Gods, the God beyond all Gods, the Girlfriend of God, the Teacher of God, the Goddess who invented God, and what I pray is:

Oh Goddess Who Never Kills But Only Changes: I pray that my exuberant, suave, and accidental words might move You to unleash ferocious blessings on all the beauty and truth fans who've tuned in.

I pray that You'll grant them what they don't even know they want. Not just the boons they think they need but everything they've been afraid to even imagine or wish for.

Oh Goddess, You Wealthy Anarchist Burning Heaven to the Ground:

The divine chameleons out there in sacred space don't even know they're crazy. Please use Your blinding magic to help them see they're all wildly creative geniuses too big for their own bodies. Guide them to realize that they're all completely different from what they think they are and more exciting than they can possibly imagine. And make it immoral, illegal, irrelevant, unpatriotic and totally tasteless for them to be in love with anyone or anything that's no good for them.

Oh Goddess You Sly Universal Virus with No Opinion:

I beg that You help all the personal growth-addicts that are reading this prayer to be disciplined enough to go crazy in the name of creation not destruction. I pray that You teach them the difference between self-destructive self-control and liberating self-control. Awaken in them the power to do the half-right thing when it's impossible to do the totally right thing. Arouse the Wild Woman within them ~ even if they're men. Give them bigger, better, more original sins and wilder, wetter, more interesting problems.

And, oh Goddess, You Pregnant Criminal Who Scorns All Mediocre Longing:

Inspire all the original sinners out there to love their enemies in case their friends turn out to be jerks. Provoke them to throw away things that make them believe they're better than everyone else. Show them how much fun it is to brag about what they can't do and don't have. Most of all, brainwash them with Your freedom, so that they never love their own pain more than anyone else's pain.

Oh Goddess, you Psychedelic Mushroom Cloud at the Center of All Our Brains:

These budding Demeters and Inannas and Buddhas and Christs deserve everything they need and much much more. Please arrange for a racehorse to be named after them, or a boulevard or river or thousand-year-old storm on another planet.

Help them win the battle against time, and learn to talk the language of the most scientific angels, and master the zen of temper tantrums, and get a fabulous mommy and daddy in their next incarnation.

Teach them to push their own buttons and unbreak their own hearts and right their own wrongs and sing their own songs and be their own wives and save their own lives.

Bless them with lucid dreams while they're wide awake and solar energy-operated sex toys that work in the dark and a vacuum cleaner for their magic carpet and a knack for avoiding other people's hells [!] and a secret admirer who's not a psychotic stalker and a thousand masks that all fit their face perfectly and their own 900 number so that everyone has to pay to talk to them.

Oh Goddess, you Dumb, Fast, Infinitely Wide River of Electricity, You Smart Slow Smoldering Lump of Angel Fat Left Over from the Big Bang, You Ghostly Snake Who Loves Inventive Tragedy and Sophisticated Superstition, You Cool Furnace That Incinerates the Props of Our Nightmares Much Too Slowly, You Creator of Happy Purgatories Where Impeccably Unironic Apocalypse Salesmen Preach Christian Satanism and Rosicrucian Baseball Players from the Middle Ages Dream Politically Cracked Dreams That Reveal the News in More Exact Metaphors Than Any Newspaper:

I pray that You provide all the global village idiots that are reading this prayer with a license to bend all laws, rules, and traditions that keep them apart from the things they love. Show them how to purge themselves of the wishy-washy wishes that keep them distracted from their divine desires. And teach them that they can have anything they want if they'll only ask for it in an unselfish tone of voice.

Oh Goddess Who Gives Us So Much Love and Pain Together That Our Morality is Always on the Verge of Collapsing:

I beg You to cast a spell to nullify all bad spells that have ever been cast on all the beautiful love geniuses out there. Remove, banish, annihilate, and laugh into oblivion any jinx that has clung to them no matter how long they've suffered from it, and even if they've grown accustomed or addicted to its ugly companionship. Conjure an aura of protection around them so that they will receive an early warning if they're ever about to act in such a way that would attract another hex or plague or voodoo into their lives.

And now, dear God of Gods, God Beyond All Gods, Sister Lover of God, Mother of God, Goddess who invented God:

I bring this prayer to a close, trusting that in these mysterious moments You have impregnated the dream glands of all the beauty and truth fans out there with the most compassionate lust and smartest love You can imagine. And if there is anything I've forgotten which will help their cause, please flash it into my imagination in the coming days and months and decades, and motivate me to perform any tricks or carry out any project that will encourage an abundance of sweaty creativity to flow through them, inspiring them to become more wildly disciplined, erotically feminist, aggressively sensitive, demonically compassionate, ironically sincere, lyrically logical, insanely poised, orgiastically lucid, macho feminist.

Amen. Awomen. Ommmmmmm and halle-fucking-lujah.

There you have it, beauty and truth fans. A personalized prayer just for you. A prayer that'll probably come true simply because you didn't even ask for it.

You may now kiss yourself on your own lips.

[First posted 10 October 2007, reposted 20 July 2016]

The Pakistani Spectator interviews Blogger Antares (repost)

Photo by Suzanne Lee Das

The Pakistani Spectator • Jun 25th, 2008

Would you please tell us something about you and your site?

I was born to a middle-class family in a small town called Batu Pahat. Began working at age 20 in advertising, became a Creative Director at 23, quit at 27 to become a freelance audiovisual producer and creative consultant, and soon devoted my energies entirely to theatre, music and writing. I was introduced to the Internet at 48 and immediately embraced the delightful possibilities of digital tech. Relocated from Kuala Lumpur to a forest reserve in 1992 to found an alternative community called Magick River. Soon became involved with an Orang Asli (aboriginal) community and environmental issues. Launched the Magick River website. A dam was built in the area in 2002 and the village went on the power grid - but it took another four years to get broadband access. One of the first things I did was to start the Magick River blog in December 2006.

Do you feel that you continue to grow in your writing the longer you write? Why is that important to you?

Like any other craft, writing improves with experience and regular practice. However, mastering the technical aspects of writing is hardly the most important issue. What’s truly meaningful to me is the process of developing clarity of thought - and simplicity and elegance of expression.

I’m wondering what some of your memorable experiences are with blogging?

Soon after I initiated the Magick River blog I realized the importance of building a readership. There were so many new things to learn: getting listed with Technorati and other blog directories, promoting the blog among friends, adding widgets and generally tweaking the blog template so that it would reflect my personality. For the first year I was happy to get approximately 300 hits a day but after the March 8th 2008 elections I began to focus more on Malaysian politics and that boosted traffic to nearly 12,000 hits a day for certain blogposts. That was a real thrill for me - like somebody earning thousands suddenly receiving a cheque for millions!

What do you do in order to keep up your communication with other bloggers?

I make it a point to read other blogposts pinged on Petaling Street (Malaysia’s blog aggregator) and often leave comments here and there. This encourages random visitors to my own blog who then leave comments and this is how the blog network grows. Once in a while there is sufficient resonance to begin emailing other bloggers and befriending them beyond the blogosphere.

What do you think is the most exciting or most innovative use of technology in politics right now?

The phenomenal growth of digital and microchip tech has made notebooks, palmtops, Blackberries, camera and video cellphones commonplace. At any given moment at any given place there will be somebody equipped to record an image or video footage or transmit a text message almost instantly. In effect, this is the era of citizen reporters whose enthusiasm for spreading info and news within overlapping networks makes it impossible for totalitarian control and suppression of information. For the first time since the Athenian experiment in democracy nearly 30 centuries ago, decentralized power is beginning to supersede the outgoing patriarchal, feudal, top-down forms of political power. I relish the fact that I am now able to live far from the madding crowd and yet - with affordable equipment like a laptop and digital videocam - I can become an autonomous multimedia production unit with satellite access to the rest of the planet. The proverbial Voice in the Wilderness can now be heard in the traditional centers of economic and cultural power, regardless of latitude or longitude. From my idyllic village in the Malaysian rainforest, I can broadcast my thoughts to people in London, Paris, New York, Moscow, Beijing, Ulan Bator... and, of course, Rawalpindi!

Do you think that these new technologies are effective in making people more responsive?

Certainly, and increasingly so. In the early days of the Internet, there was a greater divide between Actual and Virtual Reality. People would spend hours at their computers conversing with absent beings - and then take a break and connect with friends “in real life.” However, the line between actual and virtual appears to be blurring as we switch comfortably from chatting face-to-face to facebook chat or an SMS exchange. Indeed, the new digital interconnectivity makes it possible for an enterprising individual to organize a real-time street event using only a social networking tool like facebook.

What do you think sets Your site apart from others?

I go for substance, not style - and generally offer well-crafted blogposts with strong visual appeal. The subject matter I blog about is eclectic and ranges from musical and literary topics to hardcore politics and metaphysics, with a generous dose of humor and whimsicality.

If you could choose one characteristic you have that brought you success in life, what would it be?

My ability to empathize with, understand and love whatever and whoever I encounter. This has the effect of generating an attractive, rather than a repulsive, energy field - which helps in everything one does.


What was the happiest and gloomiest moment of your life?

It would take too much time and effort to scour my memory banks for interesting anecdotes - and in the end such experiences tend to be intensely personal and not something to be discussed out of context.

If you could pick a travel destination, anywhere in the world, with no worries about how it’s paid for - what would your top 3 choices be?

Machu Picchu, Egypt, and Central America.

What is your favorite book and why?

No particular favorite as such but I was profoundly inspired by The Mayan Factor: Path Beyond Technology by José Argüelles (Bear & Co, 1986). The galactic scope of the book’s vision was a great relief to somebody like me who tends to feel claustrophobic when confronting petty and mundane issues.

What’s the first thing you notice about a person (whether you know them or not)?

Their energy field - whether it’s dormant or radiant.

Is there anyone from your past that once told you you couldn’t write?

Fortunately, no.

How can bloggers benefit from blogs financially?

I know bloggers who earn heaps by managing a dozen blogs all targeted at attracting traffic and generating income from advertising. But this isn’t my reason for blogging and my flirtation with Google Adsense has been shortlived. Nevertheless, the friendship and goodwill my blog has earned occasionally translates into financial support from those who have found inspiration from researching my blog archives (there are quite a few who spend as many as 9-12 hours browsing my blog on a single visit!)

Is it true that whoever has a successful blog has an awful lot of time on their hands?

Time is our most precious resource and it’s up to each of us how we utilize it. The majority of humans are still trapped in the old paradigm of trading their time for wages. I happen to be among the privileged who enjoys the freedom to use my time as I please. Since I resigned from my last full-time job in 1977, I have somehow managed to sustain myself and my family fairly comfortably without having to take on tasks that are unpleasant or ethically dubious.

What are your thoughts on corporate blogs and what do you think the biggest advantages and disadvantages are?

I avoid corporate blogs like the plague! Only individuals have something worthwhile to say. Corporations only have an image to sell.

What role can bloggers of the world play to make this world friendlier and less hostile?

When you’ve been blogging for a while you get exposed to a wide spectrum of opinions and temperaments - from the most refined to the coarsest of the coarse. This has the effect of acclimatizing you to shocking rudeness and even the most bizarre and grotesque prejudices. After a few heated exchanges on forums or via blog comments, you learn not to take things too personally - not to get wound up by a bunch of pixels on the screen. I’m sure this greatly helps in making bloggers more accepting and tolerant of different viewpoints. Bloggers learn to insult each other in a playful manner - without wanting to translate the aggro into violent behavior “in real life.” The only way to a peaceful world may be to allow humans to slug it out virtually with their conflicting opinions.

Is there one observation or column or post that has gotten the most powerful reaction from people?

The most vociferous discussion and feedback I ever got with any blogpost was on the burning topic of Malay Supremacy. Blogposts on the Altantuya murder case also tend to attract lots of attention.

What is your perception about Pakistan and its people?

The Pakistani people are beautiful, intelligent and capable - but, unfortunately, the masses appear to have been kept ignorant and easily misled through the exploitation of religious fervor by a succession of power-hungry politicians, mullahs and warlords. Sounds just like America, no?

Have you ever become stunned by the uniqueness of any blogger?

Indeed I have. Raja Petra Kamarudin (popularly known as RPK) happens to be among the best informed when it comes to local politics. His access to the “corridors of power” (by virtue, perhaps, of his being a prince of the Selangor royal household), combined with his rebellious spirit and sharp intellect, makes his political blogposts pure dynamite. That’s why his newsblog, Malaysia Today, occasionally records 1.7 million hits a day. [Unfortunately, this is no longer true... not after 2010 when RPK apparently did a 180-degree turn and began blogging on behalf of the Dark Side!]

What is the most striking difference between a developed country and a developing country?

Bread-and-butter issues tend to be less pronounced in a “developed” country where the majority are sufficiently comfortable to focus their attention on larger and broader ideas, particularly pertaining to questions of ethics and aesthetics. In so-called “developing countries” the emphasis tends to be on making money and building more visible infrastructure - therefore, abstract notions of justice, human rights, civil liberties, and cultural maturity become secondary… at least, until a sizeable educated middle class exists.

What is the future of blogging?

Personally, I’ll keep doing it till it gets boring. Then I’ll stop. Blogging has become such a global phenomenon because it gives the individual a sense of validity and value in a perplexingly complex world where traditional forms of socializing have become almost obsolete (in a congested city like Bangkok or Kuala Lumpur, for example, it takes so much effort to travel across town just to have coffee with a friend, so the answer is facebook chat and sending each other virtual drinks!)

You have also got a blogging life, how has it directly affected both your personal and professional life?

Once I began blogging the activity seemed to gradually take over most of my waking hours in that even when not actually writing a blogpost, I’m gathering data and thinking of ways to repackage it for my blog. In other words, I am now an extremely mature nerd. But, absent any more stimulating diversion, I’m quite happy to be exactly that. My “professional” life is fluid as I tend to venture into an assortment of activities, ranging from producing low-budget documentaries to giving talks on esoteric subjects and trying to get old manuscripts published.

What are your future plans?

I have never taken the future - or anything else - seriously. One step at a time, I take each day as it comes - and goes. In short, I prefer to live in the NOW. Of course, there are endless “projects” waiting to be actualized - for instance, releasing my musical output digitally (hours of music were recently rescued from analog oblivion) and clearing a space in my study for a digital recording studio. Man does not live on blogs alone.

Any message you want to give to the readers of The Pakistani Spectator?

When your head begins to ache with confusion, just follow your heart - that’s the road to joy and freedom!

[First posted 26 June 2008, reposted 13 May 2016]

UNINSTALLING SEXUAL GUILT & RECLAIMING YOUR SOVEREIGNTY AS A FREE HUMAN ANIMAL

The second MAGICKAL MYSTERY MASTERCLASS for 2019 has been scheduled for 20-22 September (with an optional free day on the 23rd for those who opt to stay back and integrate the experience). Star Commander Darien Nagle will join us on Sunday with a demonstration on how to clear your chakras and enhance your ability to manifest your desires.

Why am I facilitating these Masterclasses, you might wonder (as I occasionally do myself)? It's very simple, really. There is absolutely nothing wrong with the Reality Spectrum each of us accesses - the problem lies with the negative, disempowering programming ALL of us have been subjected to from birth (and even prior to our arrival via our parents' acquired and inherited baggage). With a tiny bit of effort – but, most importantly, the conscious decision to reclaim our individual destinies and debug our operating systems - we can begin to expand our awareness and truly enjoy being alive at this unprecedentedly exciting juncture of human evolution - instead of being a passive consumer of prepackaged truth, habituated to moaning and groaning about how fucked-up everything appears to be.

The Upper Deck of The Fusion Longhouse
has witnessed a great many Reality Shifts!

Truth be told, a single weekend doesn't allow us much time to unravel an entire lifetime (or many lifetimes) of confusion, perplexity and systematic indoctrination. In the old days, an undertaking of this nature could stretch over 25 years or more (much of it spent on ascetic practices and osmotic absorption of cellular wisdom from some venerable sage). But we are, for better or worse, living in the Digital Era, where compression (and decompression) technology has made it possible to pack several lifetimes of experience into a painless weekend (with healthy and tasty meals thrown in).

And while it's true that an entire week would be far more intensive and comprehensive, that's a luxury few of us can afford. Most of us (including myself) are bound by domestic and professional commitments that make setting aside an entire week extremely difficult, except under exceptional circumstances. So we must do what we can within the confines an extended weekend.

MOVING BEYOND DOUBT AND FAITH INTO DIRECT INNER KNOWING

"Core Essence" by Ravin Sikander
(acrylic on canvas 3' x 5')

In the brief but intensely compressed space of a single weekend you will experience full body-mind-soul immersion within a transformational vortex, a safe nonjudgmental space in which you can release and transmute societally ingrained beliefs and behaviors - especially those involving your own sexuality. This is an opportunity to integrate fresh inputs that will support your liberation from enslavement to an illusory system called The 3D Matrix.

You will begin to reclaim your unique individual sovereignty, molecular integrity and innate nobility - perhaps even befriend your own shadow self (your “Mr Hyde” side) - and reconnect with your core essence as a constantly evolving, wholeheartedly loving, human animal with a dynamic mix of diabolical and divine potentialities.

I co-facilitated the first MAGICKAL MYSTERY MASTERCLASS @ The Fusion Longhouse with Star Commander Darien Nagle in March 2019. The maximum intake was 10 participants and we actually had 9, but 3 canceled, leaving 6, which turned out to be just the right number (at least for that particular episode). Here are excerpts from the encouraging feedback we received from The Intrepid Fusion Timeship Crew (that's what I call the courageous humans who signed up for our maiden Masterclass):

"Keep up the good work. It’s very enlightening and mind boggling. More people should experience and hear about it. Great for networking with likeminded people. Great environment. Good food and unique accommodation with views upstairs where the cat also keeps you company at night. I had a great time. Thanks for making it memorable! 👍🏻👍🏻😬" ~ Roger Young

"Thank you again to Antares, Darien and all my fellow Crew members for a life-changing and enriching weekend. I'm keen to see which new frontiers this Ship will go to!" ~ Lukas Angelo Yap

"It was fun! The river magick! And fellow Timeship passengers joyous company 😘😘😘 and non-stop awesome great meals from the chef supremo Emanar! 🙏😘" ~ Lim Hean Beng

"After being in quite a few workshops and classes of the spiritual kind, I found that I was most nervous about this one but only because I knew in my heart there would be a significant shift when I left. I have to say my nervousness was arrested when I met everyone. I have never felt at ease quite so quickly as I have with everyone in this group including the teachers. I feel put back together and this is the shift I needed. So Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you from my heart ❤ I would also like to acknowledge Emanar for holding the space for all of us with her nurturing nature and feeding us with love. I am grateful to have had her with us." ~ Dawn Marie Ng

View of misty hills from the front deck of The Fusion Longhouse

"Dear Magickal Mystery Teachers (& Fellow Crew Members): I thank you from the bottom of my heart for an “out-of-this-world” class which is a huge milestone marker in my life. I learned new information & new practices that I can take home. I also appreciated the personalised feedback about myself & how I can move forward in my life. Most importantly, I had the opportunity to be with & observe 2 Master Teachers over a weekend & that had to be the most precious experience of all - that you are BOTH a living inspiration of what I can aspire to be. I feel honoured & humbled that I could participate." ~ A. M. Saniman

"Thanks, Darien and Antares, for the course. It was great! 👍🏻👍🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 And I am still astounded by the uniqueness of everyone involved. Love the Fusion Longhouse design - simple, elegant, nice artistic touches. I appreciate the healthy, clean, tasty and carefully prepared food from Emanar. It's extremely rare to meet people who are aligned, that share many uncommon personal interests and such usually taboo topics, etc, so it's great to have the fellowship. The informal talks we had among the participants and with Antares and Darien, the deep sharing and personal feedback were much needed to deal with my own issues and shadows, while learning from others' journeys too was great. These informal sessions were intimate, gloriously organic and one of a kind, while being thoroughly insightful and filled with so much knowledge and wisdom. That really made the course truly special and outstanding.  Ever since my journey started a year ago, I've been quietly observing and filtering many mystics and 'masters' whom I learned from a great deal. I have to honestly say that Antares is really up there among the wisest, definitely the wisest I've ever had the chance and honour to meet." ~ Yik Boon Tan

NOTE: Passengers on The Fusion Timeship are limited to TEN only. Download the e-brochure and registration form by clicking on the links!