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Many saw The Big Lebowski as the Coen Bros.' Big Flop. Some, like me, see it as The Way. "The Dude abides." R.U.A. DUDE?

dude's log for april 11, 2009: earthdate 2009.04.11.21:03:31

what a difference love makes.

it's been almost six years that "Me" and "I" were reunited and decided to kick "Myself" in the ass for being such a fuck-up. Of course, that's when the fighting began, and I ended up having to kill Myself to get him out of the cockpit and let "Me" (a/k/a "The Comeback Kid") take over the show, so that I could start living again.

the way I figure, out of all the years since my birth, I've only been living for 12 of them: the first six and the last six. The 4 decades in between were, at best, merely an existence, albeit a productive one, in the prison built in my mind by the "Dogmagicians."

so, while some celebrate birthdays, i celebrate "deathdays." i'm referring to the day i killed myself, with a little help from my very best friend and lover: ME!

now, I move through time and space without seeking any of the trappings of that 2-dimensional world from which Me and I escaped after the funeral held for Myself. No money do I need, though I want a little of it to purchase a few items I still enjoy from time to time and which normally isn't provided by the ones I'm helping, because they haven't developed much of an appreciation yet for the truly finer things in life.

here's a list of what I want to purchase with whatever money comes into my hands:

hope

relief

fulfillment

satisfaction

contentment

exhilaration

wellness

joy

nothing beats the feeling of handing someone a few dollars when you see they need them, and watch as they experience one or more of those things I just listed above. What's incredible is that the joy, wellness, exhilaration, fulfillment, relief and hope (to name a few) they express is immediately shared with and felt by me.

it's better than any sex i've had so far.

ol' dude here hopes that one day I'll meet the role-rockin' chairman of the bored and, i do, make sure he's not Some Dude who just keeps staring at me from a dog-mad mirror!

<];^}~

PS
Maybe it's about time to choose my legal name once and for all. Something tells me that when I reach the age of 13 (that's years of living, not counting the ones I existed in Dogmagic Penitentiary), I should go through a rite of passage into some kind of "hood."

In the 2-D world, it was called "manhood" but as a Dude, I'm an "anti-Man" and with that, there's this obligation to shun all forms of labels and categories which aren't absolutely essential to the task of communicating with clarity.

So, I guess I'll just change my name in the 2-D world's institution called "judicial system." (once i heard it called "system of justice," but as Dude's recently departed "Self" used to be a lawyer for 25 years, I saw justice was as rare as hens' teeth and finally figured out the system was designed to perpetuate injustice. any justice produced in that system was an aberration which tended to get squashed by the appellate courts. a few just results got through anyway, and that's why it took so long for a guy with more melanin in his skin than others to become president.

I was toying with changing my name to my social security number, then I considered the name "Aloycious Ulysses Kamere," and go by just the first two initials and my last name: "A.U. Kamere." But, in the end, I'm thinking seriously of just "Sum Dude" to keep it simple and strike a nice balance between the silly and the serious.

Any thoughts or suggestions from anyone out there in "I Don't Care" land?

Saturday April 11, 2009 - 09:46pm (CDT) Permanent Link | 0 Comments
dude's log for april 11, 2009: earthdate 2009.04.11.21:03:31

what a difference love makes.

it's been almost six years that "Me" and "I" were reunited and decided to kick "Myself" in the ass for being such a fuck-up. Of course, that's when the fighting began, and I ended up having to kill Myself to get him out of the cockpit and let "Me" (a/k/a "The Comeback Kid") take over the show, so that I could start living again.

the way I figure, out of all the years since my birth, I've only been living for 12 of them: the first six and the last six. The 4 decades in between were, at best, merely an existence, albeit a productive one, in the prison built in my mind by the "Dogmagicians."

so, while some celebrate birthdays, i celebrate "deathdays." i'm referring to the day i killed myself, with a little help from my very best friend and lover: ME!

now, I move through time and space without seeking any of the trappings of that 2-dimensional world from which Me and I escaped after the funeral held for Myself. No money do I need, though I want a little of it to purchase a few items I still enjoy from time to time and which normally isn't provided by the ones I'm helping, because they haven't developed much of an appreciation yet for the truly finer things in life.

here's a list of what I want to purchase with whatever money comes into my hands:

hope

relief

fulfillment

satisfaction

contentment

exhilaration

wellness

joy

nothing beats the feeling of handing someone a few dollars when you see they need them, and watch as they experience one or more of those things I just listed above. What's incredible is that the joy, wellness, exhilaration, fulfillment, relief and hope (to name a few) they express is immediately shared with and felt by me.

it's better than any sex i've had so far.

ol' dude here hopes that one day I'll meet the role-rockin' chairman of the bored and, i do, make sure he's not Some Dude who just keeps staring at me from a dog-mad mirror!

<];^}~

PS
Maybe it's about time to choose my legal name once and for all. Something tells me that when I reach the age of 13 (that's years of living, not counting the ones I existed in Dogmagic Penitentiary), I should go through a rite of passage into some kind of "hood."

In the 2-D world, it was called "manhood" but as a Dude, I'm an "anti-Man" and with that, there's this obligation to shun all forms of labels and categories which aren't absolutely essential to the task of communicating with clarity.

So, I guess I'll just change my name in the 2-D world's institution called "judicial system." (once i heard it called "system of justice," but as Dude's recently departed "Self" used to be a lawyer for 25 years, I saw justice was as rare as hens' teeth and finally figured out the system was designed to perpetuate injustice. any justice produced in that system was an aberration which tended to get squashed by the appellate courts. a few just results got through anyway, and that's why it took so long for a guy with more melanin in his skin than others to become president.

I was toying with changing my name to my social security number, then I considered the name "Aloycious Ulysses Kamere," and go by just the first two initials and my last name: "A.U. Kamere." But, in the end, I'm thinking seriously of just "Sum Dude" to keep it simple and strike a nice balance between the silly and the serious.

Any thoughts or suggestions from anyone out there in "I Don't Care" land?

Saturday April 11, 2009 - 09:42pm (CDT) Permanent Link | 0 Comments
Entry for February 25, 2009: One of my neighbors - reclusive by nature - allowed me to get a bit closer than the average bear.

Wednesday February 25, 2009 - 11:54am (CST) Permanent Link | 0 Comments
Entry for February 21, 2009: dude's log

earthdate 02.21.2009:14:08:24

Happy new year - it's my first entry this year and i see no visitors this week, and only 17 for the month. ahh, the great feeling of no one looking!!

so what's the word?

thunderbird!

what's the reason?

grapes in season!

what's the price?

thirty nine twice!

who drink the most?

us regla' folk!

i subbed the word "regla'" for "colored" since i'm an unabashed anti-man, anti-bigot, anti-panty dude who loves all living creatures (especially we hoomens) for what's lurking within us all - lil' children, most of whom are too scared to come out and play.

Well, my pic depicts my metaphoric suicide in which "i" killed "myself" and lived to laugh about it.

Actually, it was "me" and "i" who effected the demise of "myself" after I found me in a virtual coma, nestled within the container of curiosity, his hand on the shut-off valve that kept my engines of reason starving for fuel.

I've made some new friends since my last post - mostly dog lovers, but there's one soapberry afficionado who shares my love of all things rooted and man, can she put it into beautiful paintings. check out val's work at her blog, pencil and leaf:

http://pencilandleaf.blogspot.com/

Among the most surprising turns in this boy's life is the meeting of the minds i and Thomas had and are having as we team up to finish my story about love and how two people come together to create in their own image a child of God, who bears witness to the goodness of those things our society condemns as the embodiment of pure "evil," (that's "live" spelled backwards). My hope is to have the audience wondering, as they leave, "just who is that Un-Masked Man standing in front of the curtain?"

Within a few more weeks, the screenplay and the storyboarding will be finished and ready for production. if i can't get the funds on terms securing the creative licenses i feel is necessary to ensure my "baby" will survive the "birthing," then i'll deliver the lil' critter myself, using all local crew and cast.

Thomas, born again three years ago (he's only 41) gave me that missing link to the audience I most value as the target, and with his beautiful mind's adherence to the literal word as reflected in the Holy Bible (for which my prior posts reflect a most scornful disdain, dubbing it the "Buy Bull"), I've allowed "myself" to, once again, get the hell out of the way so The Kid and me can get on and along with all our friends, no matter what they do, say or think.

And to think I really thought I killed that rat-bastard Self!!!!

Well, at least he's seriously wounded and easily manipulated by "us" (me and I) so that now it's him dancing to the tune called by the Great Spirit, rather than the one he made us dance to as it was played by The Man.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO .... another MKL day passed but THIS TIME WE'VE HAD SOME SERIOUS CHANGES MADE TOWARD THE FULFILLMENT OF THAT DREAM OF HIS!

May I commend to you a most wonderful piece of documentary video entitled "Witness from the Balcony of Room 306"?

It's on HBO and here's a link to the site for those (if any) of you who may find this blog of interest enough to come this far:

http://www.hbo.com/docs/programs/thewitness/index.html

Remember what you may haven't realized you forgot: we humans are just one big family and who do we tend to have the most problems with? the members of families too close for comfort! learn to create your space and maintain the borders of your self and all else will fall into place. be patient. let your mind wander and wonder while your heart tells it where to go.

Love in the positive, live long and prosper, and all that jazz, especially this jazz, which was what that cool dj (name forgotten) used to say as he closed his Austin FM-radio show, back in the seventies:

"Keep your feet up, drink lots of water and come when you can."

Maybe it's more like "jizz-jazz," perhaps?

May the Great Spirit be with you until we meet again, dear brothers and sisters.

<];^}~

Tags: witnessfromthebalconyofroom306, documentary, pencilandleaf, greatspirit,

Saturday February 21, 2009 - 03:17pm (CST) Permanent Link | 0 Comments
Entry for December 13, 2008: dude's log

earthdate 12.03.2008:12:03:15

"AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE RULES? MARK IT FUCKING ZERO!!!!"

How sweet it is, the taste of victory lingers on my lips, like the drops of wisdom which Adam and Eve must have savored, briefly, before swallowing God's bullshit.

Sweeter than this is the excellent irony that I should ascend to the State of Dudeness by following the Way of the Original Dude, backwards in time to the Genesis of His existence as it currently stands on the putrid pages of The Posers who profess to proclaim The Word and pretend it IS that of The Father.

Lest ye be among those who are Dudes, ye not be likely to make much sense of that which I doth proclaim, heretofore, the fore being that quote from the Book of Walter.

Therefore, I shall remove the veil of Dude-speak, and allow my meaning to be gleaned by all who would be Kings, if only they could kill the usurper of their throne - The Dogmagician.

"What the fuck am I talking about? I'll tell you what the fuck I'm talking about. Carpet-pissers did not do this. You said it yourself. She probably kidnapped herself."

To the uninitiated, The Big Lebowski, the Coen Brothers' epic saga of Homerian proportions, transcends the confines of sheepledom and serves as the unifying force by which we, the shameless and blameless few who "get it," can reveal ourselves to those flockers inside the fenced pastures from which we've escaped The Man's chokehold that restricts all reason from entering the closed minds of sheeple.

The quote at the top is from The Big L, and it is Walter's last warning to Smokey which, coupled with Walter chambering a round and then aming his .45 automatic pistol at Smokey's forehead, a mere inch or two from the end of the gun, gives the recalcitrant Smoke the impetus to comply with Walter's demand and mark his score zero.

"There, it's fucking zero. I hope you're happy, you crazy fuck."

Walter, with a flip of the switch in Smokey's attitude, is seen clearing the pistol's chamber and returning it to his ball-bag, while giving Smokey the last word with remarkable calm: 'It's a league game, Smoke."

[I think it may help you Uninitiates better appreciate the situation, if you know that Walter is played by John Goodman, and Smokey is played by Jimmy Dale Gilmore, better known as one of The Flatlanders, dubbed by Neil Strauss, in his NY Times article, as a "supergroup in reverse." Gilmore, Butch Hancock and Joe Ely, all from Lubbock, Texas, merit your immediate attention if you love music, and here's a good place to go for that - http://jimmiegilmore.com/TFL/index.html)

Like Walter, I've got my 45 pistol chambered and pointing inches away from The Man's forehead, only the weapon I'm holding is Reason, and it's been 45 years since I've been without it, and now, thanks to whatever wonderful, mysterious and powerful life force which I feel flowing freely now, within me and without me, I'm going to blow this miserable fuck's mind wide open and watch the world explode into love.

"The Rules" which I'm referring to are not the same ones Walter had in mind, but the differences make for an interesting parallel.

Bowling was Walter's game and mine is what I call "Bullshit."

Bullshit is a lot like Poker, but in Poker the element of skill is diluted by the element of chance, whereas in Bullshit, the game is solely dependent on the player's own ability to reason.

The other main difference between Bullshit and Poker are the stakes.

In Poker, the player risks losing his or her money. In Bullshit, the player risks losing his or her life.

The Rules of Bullshit are written by The Man, and the players are those who have discovered what The Man is really up to and dares to challenge The Man by delcaring "BULLSHIT" publicly - very much like challenging the current "fastest gun" to a duel.

The only ones I've known to play Bullshit were five real-life Dudes and so I'm inclined to assume one must be a Dude in order to play the game.

If there is another State of Being that, like the State of Dudeness, requires its members possess the full power of human reason, I've not yet found it.

Remember, Uninitiates and those Initiates who are following the Way of The Dude, it is by virtue of our transcending into the State of Dudeness that allows us to live free as humans who have their reason are meant to do.

How do we transcend?

We FOLLOW OUR HEARTS - IGNORE OUR MINDS.

Our minds are closed and kept that way by The Man, but our hearts are left alone despite the fact that the severed connection between hearts and minds create the "phantom limb" syndrome (see V. S. Ramachandran's works at *).

The heart aches for reunion with the mind and creates in us the perpetual discomfort that our minds won't allow us to remedy - unless our hearts are strong enough to overcome our minds.

That's what I think, anyway, as the best means to explain how it happens.

I'm writing a concise and readable account of my journey for the benefit of anyone interested. If I beat The Man in BULLSHIT, I'll likely live to see it published.

The Man isn't too shook up over losing the few sheeple whose hearts take over and rescue their minds. After all, such Dudes are no threat to The Man's vast flock of sheeple - none of them can perceive or comprehend Dudes as humans - Dudes are, in their wool-covered eyes, mere bums, scums and dumb-dumbs.

Only when a Dude challenges The Man to a game of BULLSHIT does the Dude get taken seriously.

Remember, to reach the State of Dudeness one must ignore the mind and follow the heart, away from the shallow and miserable existence in which you spend money you don't have to buy things you don't need to impress people you don't like.

You move to the world in which you see all humans as identical to you - the essential core of each person is identical in terms of needs - and if all needs are met, no wants are desired.

I know. I have all I need and want for nothing.

My needs are food, shelter, water, air, and curiosity.

I've shed all the trappings of material possessions and acquisitions, by following my heart toward the mind I knew was once whole, and found it in my past and rescued it at the expense of the replacement that stood in my way of becoming whole again.

Metaphorically, I killed that part of me (I call it my "self") which was infected with The Man's diseases of pride, jealousy, greed, self-loathing, self-doubt, self-consciousness, etc. It may be what Freud called the super ego.

Saturday December 13, 2008 - 11:46pm (CST) Permanent Link | 0 Comments