THE CAT'S WHISKER
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|Posted: Fri, Feb 06, 2004 at 05:36:40 (EST)|
|Posted by: Doc|
Subject: Yea, it's real Tuff
Man, when I was first in'doc'trinated into the cult it was via a man arriving at our Wiltshire farmhouse door dressed in robes with 'Jai Sat Chit Anand' printed from head to foot all over them. He raved to us for hours about this wonderful guru and we all felt very safe and smug in our little hippie world. Who needed a guru? Not us, we had LSD and hash.
After his sermon he was shown the door. Only his sincerity and lack of reaction to our impolite challenges made me ponder. And ponder, and ponder.....
When I hit London and the saffron robes incense chanting mob it looked like another Hari Krishna fantasy come to life. Then I heard the squeaky 12 year old talking like he knew the score, I had to see the Rolls Royce (geez) and the flowers all over it (holy cow!) Oh god, were there any more hurdles to cross before initiation? Yea, you bet, a whole bunch of ex-hippies running around in cheap suits trying to look straight, together, normal and like they belonged to a new Mormon faction complete with leaflets declaring a thousand years of peace and true peace within for little old me.
Mmm....And I pondered, and pondered.....
But like your young lady friend, I saw through the facade, I could see where they were coming from, oh yes, nothing of their naffness, stupidity, insane claims, argumentative religious claptrap, the fat schoolkid, the Roller - none made any difference at all. Not a scrap.
I saw a seed.
Now I sit under a huge tree gorging myself like a fat pig who escaped the abattoir due to his inordinately large genitalia which were deemed useful for increasing the numbers of healthy stock.*
Never deserved it.
* The genital analogy is not meant to be a sexual reference. I come from a strict Anglican background and have always been most pious, respectful and tentative in my physical relations with the opposite sex.
This has been a production of the Scapa Flow 'I think I'm a deep meaningful poet today' society for failed writers.
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