On hurricanes, the Universe, fan mail, and a song
Wow, it's September already. It's been a busy few days and now I'm getting ready to retire to the living room and watch the Republican debacle, but I thought I'd share a few snippets first.
Farces of nature
Hurricane Gustav has come and mostly gone, and fortunately didn't decimate New Orleans, although he was responsible for nearly a hundred deaths in the Caribbean. I am sure that the Hurricane Whisperer herself, Phoenix/Spirit Diva, aka Lynn Marks, who has claimed to be successful in calming numerous 'canes, will soon be taking credit for helping to talk Gustav out of being more awful than he was. Phoenix/SD led a telephone meditation for this very purpose a few nights ago; I was invited to join but had other plans. Anyway, I'm looking forward to reading the message Phoenix channeled from Gustav. As of now, her most recent channeling is from Hurricane Dolly, whom I mentioned here a couple of weeks ago. Here's part of what Dolly had to tell us:
Peace is your birthright.I can't wait to hear the words of love and wisdom from Gustav.
Peace is the fertile soil for love to spring forth.
Everything has its natural life cycle.
Me, you and even those levies [sic] in Texas
As they were in New Orleans.
All this talk of hurricane taming puts me in mind of an excellent suggestion that my new pal Mojo shared in her comment to one of my recent posts. In response to my breaking the news that the sun is going to explode next July unless a large enough group of like-minded folks get together and stop it, Mojo suggested this:
Start a movement to get everyone together to think Good Thoughts and "attract" the sun into NOT blowing up next July. Sort of like that hurricane lady, only instead of calming tropical storms you can calm stellar explosions.Thanks to helpful readers such as Mojo, I am getting closer and closer to actually finding a good scam. Which seamlessly leads us into our next snippet...
You can also take a page from Blair Warren [his classic "Mr. Amazing's Magic Rocks"] and sell magic sun-explosion-preventing rocks... Thus keeping with the fine self-help tradition of just ripping your schtick off from other people. Or as I prefer to call it, "standing on the shoulders of giants", or however that one goes. (It all just kind of mushes into one big vat o' poo after a while, don't it?)
I KNOW this will work, because I myself am the proud possessor of the world's first "make the sun rise every morning" rock. Every evening I meditate and praise my rock for doing such a good job, and sure enough the next morning it works again! And I'm open to joint ventures and affiliates, so long as I don't have to do any work...
The great thing about selling "keep the sun from exploding" rocks is, unlike those other SCAM rocks YOU can offer a money-back guarantee. "If the sun explodes at ANY TIME during your ownership of this rock, merely ship it back to us postage due (That's RIGHT! We are so confident of our rocks WE PAY THE SHIPPING!) and your money will be cheerfully refunded. No questions asked!"
Mr. Fire 'splains the workings of the Universe
If you've ever wondered how the Universe really works, you're in luck. I found this scientifical illustration on the site advertising Joe Vitale's new Romance Attractor "subliminal" CD set:
real Ph.D.'s, and you can forget all of those episodes of Nova, and those books by the late Dr. Carl Sagan. All you really need to know about the Universe is that it is in direct communication with your unconscious mind, and vice-versa. The deal is, no matter what you consciously think, say or believe, the Universe bypasses all of that and goes straight for the part of you that is totally inaccessible – inaccessible, that is, unless you buy certain books/DVDs/subliminal products/coaching services, etc., which Mr. Fire just happens to sell.
If you don't shell out your money for these products and/or services, then your unconscious and the Universe will continue to be in cahoots against you. Your unconscious will talk about you behind your back, sending secret messages up to the Universe about you, giggling at your failures, telling jokes at your expense, and so on. And the Universe will say, "Wow, what an unworthy dweeb!" and it will keep on sending you things and people and events that you don't like, and/or failing to send you things and people and events that you do like. And you will have only yourself, or, rather, your unconscious, to blame.
If you do buy the helpful products and/or services, you have a chance of beating your unconscious into submission (otherwise known as "clearing") so that it only says nice things about you to the Universe, and the Universe is obliged to finally start rewarding you with things and people and events that make you happy.
The drawback is that since it's your unconscious, you'll never be completely aware of what's really going on there, so bad things might continue to happen to you, because your unconscious exists to sabotage you and will keep on doing so, unless you keep it thoroughly "cleared."
Fortunately there are always more products and/or services to buy, and you can just keep on buying and buying and buying until good things start happening in your life. Even then you will probably still need to keep on buying for the rest of your life in order to ensure that the good things keep happening. It's kind of like being an insulin-dependent diabetic, except you probably won't actually die if you don't continue to buy those scientistical selfish-help products; you'll just be unhappy for the rest of your life and wish you were dead. Or maybe a better analogy would be the one that Mark Victor Hansen so smugly used when putting Steve Salerno down on Anderson Cooper's show a few years back (and I'm paraphrasing here): you need to take a shower every day in order to stay clean and non-smelly, and you need to keep buying selfish-help crap frequently in order to stay selfishly helped.
And that's the way the Universe works.
PS added Saturday 6 September:
I got this in from Whirled Musings' resident poet, HHH, who is also an artist and, obviously, a man who understands how the Universe really works. Or at least the New-Wage/selfish-help Universe:
Another couple of fan letters
I received these kind words the other day, in response to a post I wrote in May of 2007 regarding up-and-coming hustledork Chris Howard (and some of his more clueless affiliates):
To which I replied:
Anon, you obviously feel very strongly about Mr. Howard, as evidenced by the fact that you felt compelled to write not once, but twice.I thought I'd do Anon a favor and bring this up to the front page.
FYI, I will publish any comment that is not overtly profane or in some way actionable (i.e., libelous).
And no, moderating blogs is not a waste of time. If this blog weren't moderated, then the aforementioned profane or actionable comments would be automatically published, along with spam messages about online gambling and penis enlargers. We do try to stay on topic here. :-)
Anyway, it's obvious that my post strongly affected you. Believe me, I do understand that disillusionment is never easy, and I only hope you didn't shell out too much money on your hero.
Why do the chickens have human arms?
And finally, here is a plaintive little song to carry you into the weekend. I know, I know, it's not the weekend yet, but it will be before you know it. (Warning: if you are at all offended by use of the "f" word or by references to recreational drug use, do NOT follow this link.)
And that's it for now. I hope to soon have an update on the ongoing saga of the Blunder From Down Under, David Schirmer... plus a thoughtful and well-researched post about a serious social problem... and oh, so much more. So much to blog about, so little time to blog.
For now, I'm off to the living room to watch that big spectacle in Minnesota, and get in some quality yelling-at-the-TV time. Apparently Mitt Romney just finished telling everyone that liberals/Democrats are to blame for our government getting too big for its britches. I suggest you hop on over to Steve Salerno's blog for some engaging discussions about that carnival/soap opera we call an American presidential election.