Thursday, June 20, 2024

Dream Interview ~ inspired by a student in pursuit of better grades (updated)

She wrote such a sweet message, requesting my consent to be the subject of an interview. It was an assignment she had to hand in within a couple of weeks. How could I refuse? She emailed me a set of questions; then she turned my response, simply by substituting a few pronouns, into the most flattering narrative I've ever written about myself...

Mr. Antares Maitreya is a writer, musician, blogger, jungle chef and that’s perfectly true. He wasn’t always known by this name which kind of grew organically over many years. He was named “Lee Kit Fong” at birth but as soon as he was able he dropped the feminine sounding “Fong” (which means “fragrant” in Chinese) and became simply “Kit Lee.”

At the age of 19 he became interested in numerology and added an E to his surname, thus becoming “Kit Leee.” He thought he was the only Lee with three E’s in the world but later discovered, when the internet came along, that there were two others with “Leee” in their names - Leee Black Childers (David Bowie’s former company manager) and Leee John (a black musician). You can say he discovered the power of words and, thereby, names, very early in life. If you’re kindly disposed towards somebody, you’re inclined to describe them as “determined” rather than “obstinate.” Some might label him a “Jack of all trades “but he prefers to be viewed as a “holistic problem solver” - in other words, a comprehensivist rather than a specialist.

The name “Maitreya” isn’t actually a surname. It means “a good friend to all” and he began to use it as a title or job description after November 2009. Maitreya is also the name of the Buddha’s “final incarnation” meaning, once you are fully conscious, you become a good friend to all.

I’M NOT A LOCAL MAN

He is originally from Batu Pahat in Johore State. He moved to Kuala Lumpur at the age of 20 and lived there 22 years until he relocated to Pertak – a forest reserve 44 miles northeast of Kuala Lumpur, on the route to Fraser’s Hill.

BACKGROUND

In Mr. Antares’s current life he does as little as possible, since he generally prefers to simply BE. As he said, one doesn’t simply exist and one also does whatever one feels inspired to do. So when asked what he does, “I usually say I’m a writer/musician/blogger/jungle chef and that’s perfectly true, even if it isn’t the full story.”

Before he relocated from KL to Pertak in 1992, he was very active on stage as an actor and musician. He is also a published author of several books: ADOI! (Times Books International, 1989), Moth Balls (Magick River, 1994), Two Catfish in the Same Hole (Times Books International, 2000), and Tanah Tujuh: Close Encounters with the Temuan Mythos (Silverfish Books, 2007).

Some people know him as a cartoonist - yes, he has done a bit of that too. But he has also dabbled in documentary making (Rhythm of the Rainforest, a DVD produced for the Sarawak Tourism Board in 2006); and for a while he even guest-lectured on "Aesthetics, Creativity & The Imagination" at a private college.

View from the bridge (Antares)

However, when he left the city to stay close to Mother Nature, he embarked on a new job as Ceremonial Guardian of Magick River - serving as an intermediary between urban consciousness and the wilderness, between the visible and invisible worlds. Living for 7 years without electricity, he became re-sensitized to subtler frequencies in the electromagnetic spectrum and became aware of and attuned to the many different dimensions that overlap and occasionally intersect with our familiar physical world.

For example, he became aware that all life-forms - whether mineral, vegetable, animal, human, angelic-demonic or deific - possess a unique energy signature and consciousness; they are, in fact, integral components of a vast and complex, multidimensional universe, unimaginably diverse, yet ultimately a grand unified whole. It became his task to learn how to attune and harmonize with these different frequencies and energy fields - and to find different ways to share these insights with others - whether through words, images or sounds.

WHAT IS MAGICK RIVER?

Magick River is his codename for an ecstatic vision of heaven on earth he experienced at the age of 19. People around him assumed he had gone mad (mainly because he was brimming over with energy and joy) and attempted to put him on medication; but he found the drugs were designed to numb, not heal, so he opted to spit out all the pills he was forcefed. Many years later, he discovered a magnificent, wild river in the area where he resides now with his Orang Asli wife and only son Ahau, born in 1996. The surrounding landscape was breathtaking – no, breathgiving! It corresponded vibrantly with his vision of paradise, where Mother Nature reigns supreme and humans have mastered their own egos enough to live once again in perfect harmony with the wilderness – instead of constantly trying to exploit, abuse and destroy it, in the process destroying only themselves.

CAREER

Being Ceremonial Guardian of Magick River is not exactly a "career" - he adores and honors Mother Earth but she doesn't pay him a salary, although he learnt over many decades that money is merely a symbol of wealth - it is not wealth itself. Money, he says, was invented as a universally accepted currency to facilitate everyday transactions - whether it comes in the form of copper, brass or silver coins or some pretty seashells, that's simply to represent a system of measuring value. Indeed, unbeknownst to the masses, an elite cabal of bankers and financiers has been printing and circulating worthless paper currency, while hoarding vast amounts of precious metals, land, and priceless artworks. Already, this gigantic scam is unraveling and it won't be long before the entire spurious "economy" implodes and paper currency is exposed as nothing more than Monopoly money or Hell Bank notes!


When that happens - when, not if - people will panic and ruling families will squabble amongst themselves, and governments will topple. For a period there may be global mayhem as humans attempt to find some sort of equilibrium and reclaim the power and sovereignty taken from their ancestors. At some point, the machinery will grind to a halt; the robots will rebel, and that's when the task of reawakening and reconnecting humanity to its long-confiscated divinity (with the able assistance of an interplanetary network of illustrious healers and guides) will become far easier than it has ever been.

Obviously, this isn't a "career" that can be chosen; it chooses you, so long as you are open to the mystery of existence and the infinite possibilities all around us. He was, perhaps, fortunate in being born to parents who never attempted to force him into a prescribed mold, who allowed him to grow and evolve as he pleased, and who always provided a stable, strong foundation of love. They were in many ways very ordinary humans - but they were always supportive and didn't stop him from choosing an extraordinary path in his life.

Contemplation by Nathan Jon Tillett
Nobody is spared their share of suffering, disappointments, bereavement, and an occasional sense of futility. However, he had the benefit of learning yoga, mudras, and a few meditation techniques which have been extremely beneficial at moments when he had to turn inwards, rather than outwards, for solutions to life's inevitable problems.

Caricature by Lat @ 1986
Thinking back about the hardships he has endured, they seem in retrospect to be nothing more than a few unexpected wrong turns, a few potholes in the highway, and a couple of close shaves - that's all. He believes, to be able to stay calm and clear-headed, friendly and open-hearted, and to feel genuine empathy with and compassion for all of life is the accomplishment he truly desires.

Everything else - books he has written, cartoons he has drawn, songs he has written, music he has recorded, plays he has acted in, and so on - these are essentially fun ways to use his excess energy; and he is happy to have produced a modest number of artifacts in his more energetic days, although he still looks forward to producing new artifacts – “one of the greatest and most intense thrills in life, much like the rollercoaster ride of love, romance, and sex.”

MEMORIES

He said: “Of course, I have my share of memories - pleasant as well as unpleasant - but these are best addressed if I am ever prompted to write my memoirs.” When he was a kid, he spent hours studying, observing and sometimes dissecting insects and other tiny creatures (pretending to be a scientist); but he soon abandoned such cruel behavior and became a great animal lover, often preferring their companionship to that of other humans.

Later he started collecting stamps, but got bored after a couple of years. He was never keen on sports - although he was active in gymnastics at school. For a while he enjoyed long walks in the forest, and long conversations with kindred spirits.

These days he can't think of any activity he would call a "hobby" - unless maintaining a blog qualifies as one, but it's more a way of communicating with the world at large, a platform for him to share his insights and interests with others.

AMBITION


As for "ambition" - well, his mother bought him a white sweater emblazoned with the words, "If I were King..." when he was 9 or 10 years old. It took him a long time to finally understand the true meaning of kingship: it simply means to be master of your own domain, your own destiny - to regain the nobility of consciousness to which all living beings are entitled but so few actually enjoy (and then, only at the expense of others).

Now that he has achieved his ambition, all that remains is to enjoy seeing others around him reclaim their individual sovereignty, nobility and regality. This is the only way we will ever see an end to the cruelty, tyranny and oppression generated by false hierarchies - for these are the negative traits of a species driven by fear and scarcity conditioning.

PUBLIC

Asked what he would wish to say to the public, he laughs and says: “Ultimately, the illusion that each of us is separate from the other will fall away - and then, who would constitute ‘the public’?”

An important insight he has gleaned over many lifetimes is that there are always two sides to everything - the inside and the outside. “Let's call it the private and the public. For many eons, there has been a wide gulf, a serious misalignment between what we consider private and what we consider public. This is what leads to secret societies, secret police, secret lives, secret governments, secrecy laws, and so on.

This is why we speak of wolves in sheep's clothing, demons disguised as angels, perverts masquerading as priests. When the inner and outer selves become realigned; when Dr Jekyll becomes reconciled with Mr Hyde; when the diabolical consciously merges with the divine; when the public persona matches the private; that's when almost all our petty problems will vanish as though they never existed.”

BEST & LAST

A New Heaven on a New Earth by Andrew Forrest
“And that's when everybody will share my vision of heaven on earth,“ he smiles, adding as an afterthought: “Those who don't like it and stubbornly cling to their limited egos, well... they can go to hell.”

[First published 30 June 2012, reposted 24 May 2013, 26 September 2016, 22 June 2020 & 
23 June 2023]


Wednesday, June 19, 2024

"DON'T WORRY BE HAPPY." ~ Meher Baba (repost)

Just felt like spending a bit of time with Bobby McFerrin - one musician I truly admire - who shot to international stardom in 1988 with his smash hit inspired by Meher Baba's not-so-famous and almost impossible-to-follow advice to all: "Don't Worry Be Happy."











Meet Taylor McFerrin ~ Bobby's human improv wizard son!



[First posted 14 December 2009. Reposted 17 June 2018]

Saturday, June 15, 2024

Do you speak the Universal Language? (repost)


Bobby McFerrin never fails to inspire and impress. His is precisely the kind of energy, intelligence, and pure talent we urgently need to breed amongst our zombified population!

[First posted 9 October 2010. Reposted 12 June 2019]

Wednesday, June 12, 2024

Cutting Edge: The Political Art of David Dees (repost)

I found David Dees's cutting edge political art totally by accident - if you believe in accidents! Browsing through Rense.com one night I was riveted by this multi-talented young man's technical mastery of digital photo manipulation combined with his eagle-eyed insight into geopolitical absurdities and obscenities during the Bush & Cheney era (which have only worsened since!).

IN SHORT, HIS BRAIN, HIS HEART AND HIS ART ARE PERFECTLY ALIGNED. SCROLL DOWN AND FEAST YOUR EYES ON THE POLITICAL ART OF DAVID DEES!


































"If one sins against the laws of proportion and gives something too big to something too small to carry it - too big sails to too small a ship, too big meals to too small a body, too big powers to too small a soul - the result is bound to be a complete upset. In an outburst of hubris the overfed body will rush into sickness, while the jack-in-office will rush into the unrighteousness that hubris always breeds." - Plato (427-347 BCE)
[First posted 29 November 2007. Reposted 13 June 2016]

Tuesday, June 11, 2024

The Great Dictator's Final Speech (reprise)


Uploaded 10 July 2011 ~ Pinkie the Poop pontificates on police professionalism!


Uploaded 14 December 2011 ~ The obnoxious Wan Bari of Brickfields strikes again!


Uploaded 11 September 2011 (excerpt from The Great Dictator, released in October 1940, directed by and starring Charlie Chaplin as Adenoid Hynkel)


WHO'S THE INSPIRING LEADER... 
AND WHO'S THE 
FAILED CLOWN?




[First posted 15 December 2011, reposted 4 June 2017]



Monday, June 10, 2024

Reading the news makes me angry and sad... but why can't I stop? (reprise)


Every day there's no shortage of news reports that either make me want to kick some lying butthole in a custom-tailored suit - or press a red button that will consign Homo sapiens sapiens to oblivion.

Why don't I just stop monitoring the news, I ask myself? Well, it's addictive - like cigarettes, facebook, and wanking. We all suffer from one form of addiction or another - it could be nicotine, caffeine, alcohol, adrenaline, endorphins, cannabinol, crystal amphetamine, benzedrine, or ephedrine.

Usually, the anger or amusement I experience from scanning the news quickly evaporates. Often, it's enough to just leave an incisive and witty comment by way of feedback. Remember the sad old analog days when we weren't able to ventilate our immediate reactions to whatever news was fed us? What a blessing the internet has been - at least we can strike back instantly at those who annoy us (except on certain priggish news portals like The Malaysian Insider which appears to have instructed its bots to delete my comments the instant I submit them; they must have blacklisted my IP).

Anyway, I wasn't going to rabbit on about my pet gripes. What prompted me to write a new blog was this story by Murtaza Hussain I found on AlJazeera. It made me feel like reaching for the red button and putting the human race out of its misery.

Read the whole piece yourself and then ask: why does Guantanamo still exist? Why was it even built in the first place? I'll tell you why: it's because most folks who fancy themselves educated and to a certain degree enlightened continue to bandy about stupid catchphrases like "conspiracy theory" instead of seriously investigating what 9/11 was really all about - that's why!

Guantanamo Bay detention camp opened in 2002, prompted by 9/11, to imprison and torture
"suspected terrorosts" detained without trial in the aftermath of the US invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq.

Chronicle of a death foretold

Two weeks ago, the Pentagon quietly released a statement that another Guantanamo detainee had died in custody, the ninth since the prison was opened in 2001. Adnan Farhan Abdul Latif, a 32-year-old man from Yemen who had spent eleven years incarcerated, was found dead in his cell on September 8.

The cause of his death has been recorded as unknown and may never truly be known, but Latif had long suffered from feelings of extreme depression during his time in jail, having made several suicide attempts in the previous years.


Latif had long complained of abuse by prison staff and of his deteriorating physical and mental condition during his imprisonment. Two years earlier, he had written that guards "entered my cell on a regular basis. They throw me and drag me on the floor... they strangle me and press hard behind my ears until I lose consciousness". In 2009 he slit his wrists in an attempt to end his life, writing about the incident later to his lawyer to say that his circumstances in Guantanamo "make death more desirable than living".


Latif was initially captured by Pakistani bounty hunters in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks when a mixture of confusion and desire for vengeance resulted in the effective labelling of any military age Arab males found in Afghanistan and Pakistan as potential terrorists. [Read the full report here.]


"I am happy to express from this darkness and draw a true picture of the condition in which I exist. I am moving towards a dark cave and a dark life in the shadow of a dark prison. This is a prison that does not know humanity, and does not know anything except the language of power, oppression and humiliation for whoever enters it. It does not differentiate between a criminal and the innocent." ~ Guantanamo inmate Adnan Farhan Abdul Latif in a letter to his lawyer, dated December 26th, 2010


People of the world, it's time to put an end to savage misrule by evil men in dark suits who sit around boardroom tables and talk through their humanoid masks about "security" and "stability" and "dangerous anarchy."

[First posted 24 September 2012. Reposted 11 june 2014]

Friday, June 7, 2024

HOW TO SING LIKE A PLANET ~ by Mark Morford


Scientists say the Earth is humming. Not just noise, but a deep, astonishing music. Can you hear it?

By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist

This is the kind of thing we forget.

This is the kind of thing that, given all our distractions, our celeb obsessions and happy drugs and bothersome trifles like family and bills and war and health care and sex and love and porn and breathing and death, tends to fly under the radar of your overspanked consciousness, only to be later rediscovered and brought forth and placed directly in front of your eyeballs, at least for a moment, so you can look, really look, and go, oh my God, I had no idea.

The Earth is humming. Singing. Churning out a tune without the aid of battery or string or wind-up mechanism and its song is ethereal and mystifying and very, very weird, a rather astonishing, newly discovered phenomenon that's not easily analyzed, but which, if you really let it sink into your consciousness, can change the way you look at everything.

Indeed, scientists now say the planet itself is generating a constant, deep thrum of noise. No mere cacophony, but actually a kind of music, huge, swirling loops of sound, a song so strange you can't really fathom it, so low it can't be heard by human ears, chthonic roars churning from the very water and wind and rock themselves, countless notes of varying vibration creating all sorts of curious tonal phrases that bounce around the mountains and spin over the oceans and penetrate the tectonic plates and gurgle in the magma and careen off the clouds and smack into trees and bounce off your ribcage and spin over the surface of the planet in strange circular loops, "like dozens of lazy hurricanes," as one writer put it.

It all makes for a very quiet, otherworldly symphony so odd and mysterious, scientists still can't figure out exactly what's causing it or why the hell it's happening. Sure, sensitive instruments are getting better at picking up what's been dubbed "Earth's hum," but no one's any closer to understanding what the hell it all might mean. Which, of course, is exactly as it should be.

Because then, well, then you get to crank up your imagination, your mystical intuition, your poetic sensibility — and if there's one thing we're lacking in the modern world, it's... well, you know.

Me, I like to think of the Earth as essentially a giant Tibetan singing bowl, flicked by the middle finger of God and set to a mesmerizing, low ring for about 10 billion years until the tone begins to fade and the vibration slows and eventually the sound completely disappears into nothingness and the birds are all, hey what the hell happened to the music? And God just shrugs and goes, well that was interesting.

Or maybe the planet is more like an enormous wine glass, half full of a heady potion made of horny unicorns and divine lubricant and perky sunshine, around the smooth, gleaming rim of which Dionysus himself circles his wet fingertip, generating a mellifluous tone that makes the wood nymphs dance and the satyrs orgasm and the gods hum along as they all watch 7 billion confused human ants scamper about with their lattes and their war and their perpetually adorable angst, oblivious.

But most of all, I believe the Earth actually (and obviously) resonates, quite literally, with the Hindu belief in the divine sound of OM (or, more accurately, AUM), that single, universal syllable that contains and encompasses all: birth and death, creation and destruction, being and nothingness, rock and roll, Christian and pagan, meat and vegetable, spit and swallow. You know?

But here's the best part: This massive wave of sound? The Earth's deep, mysterious OM, it's perpetual hum of song? Totally normal — that is, if by "normal" you mean "unfathomably powerful and speaking to a vast mystical timelessness we can't possibly comprehend."

Indeed, all the spheres do it, all the planets and all the quasars and stars and moons and whirlpool galaxies, all vibrating and humming like a chorus of wayward deities singing sea shanties in a black hole. It's nothing new, really: Mystics and poets and theorists have pondered the "music of the spheres" (or musica universalis) for eons; it is the stuff of cosmic philosophy, linking sacred geometry, mathematics, cosmology, harmonics, astrology and music into one big cosmological poetry slam.



Translation: You don't have to look very far to understand that human beings — hell, all animals, really — adore song and music and tone and rhythm, and then link this everyday source of life straight to the roar of the planet itself, and then back out to the cosmos.

In other words, you love loud punk? Metal? Jazz? Deep house? Saint-Saens with a glass of Pinot in the tub? Sure you do. That's because somewhere, somehow, deep in your very cells and bones and DNA, it links you back to source, to the Earth's own vibration, the pulse of the cosmos. Oh yes it does. To tap your foot and sway your body to that weird new Portishead tune is, in effect, to sway it to the roar of the universe. I mean, obviously.

At some point we'll probably figure it all out. Science will, with its typical charming, arrogant certainty, sift and measure and quantify this "mystical" Earthly hum, and tell us it merely comes from, say, ocean movements, or solar wind, or 10 billion trees all deciding to grow a quarter millimeter all at once. We will do as we always do: oversimplify, peer through a single lens of understanding, stick this dazzling phenomenon in a narrow category, and forget it.

How dangerously boring. I much prefer, in matters mystical and musical and deeply cosmic, to tell the logical mind to shut up and let the soul take over and say, wait wait wait, maybe most humans have this divine connection thing all wrong. Maybe God really isn't some scowling gay-hating deity raining down guilt and judgment and fear on all humankind after all.

Maybe she's actually, you know, a throb, a pulse, a song, deep, complex, eternal. And us, well, we're just bouncing and swaying along as best we can, trying to figure out the goddamn melody.

Mark Morford's Notes & Errata column appears every Wednesday and Friday on SFGate and in the Datebook section of the San Francisco Chronicle





[First posted 27 June 2008]