O Artists whose souls are as delicate as baby sparrow wings, I used to be like you once. I used to believe all people were kind human beings with hearts, with souls, capable of the most selfless acts. Who wanted to create beautiful things that filled our hearts and souls with the magic of being alive on planet earth. Let me save you several 5-gallon buckets of tears, 100s of 1000s of dollars, gray hairs streaking faster through your wasted years living in dilapidated cities where you think its cultural industries are located, and allow me to guide you through this reality check for aspiring artists*… I used to believe in -- religion -- education -- entertainment -- media -- medicine -- science and even politics to a certain degree, that even us regular folks could have an impact in any of those chosen fields. Alas, I eventually discovered it was all -- fluff, -- optics, -- public relations, -- enter(train)ment, -- a training of the mind… And as disgust for it seeped into my soul like a flooded basement, I watched my beliefs frantically flail in those poisoned waters yelling out for a lifesaver (not the minty kind either!) as one by one they turned out to beLIEs. I used to wonder why so many incredibly gifted people never got anywhere, never saw any artistic accomplishments. Just veering off the highway of Life while on their way to San Jose. BUT NOT NOW! Now that I’m in my rebellious 60s, keeping my eyes wide open instead of shut, I think I finally know the reason. There are human actors working behind the scenes, pulling levers, curtains and billowing smoke screens like the Great and Powerful Oz to make life as miserable as possible for us, thinking we are nothing more than animals to be corralled into high-tech prisons, to employ corporate gangsters to poison our food, air and water, to steal our hard-earned money to give to their nefarious causes, to frighten us into injecting ourselves with black magic potions which promised to save us from the deadliest hoax that hoodwinked the entire world. Snarky wannabeats may think I’m a deluded, crazy, full-of-shit, conspiracy wing-nut. But I really don’t care because their idea of artistic achievement is as profound as their clown-colored hair. So, with that being said… Dear budding artist, I know this is going to to be a hard, red pill to swallow, and like my friend Carlos from the Dominican Republic used to say: “I hate to be truthfully honest with you…” but your art (be it film, dance, music, painting, writing, poetry or whatever) will never see the light of day unless you are recruited by the alphabets, have relatives going back to King George II, are a scion of a wealthy family dynasty, earned a resume of perverted pecadildos, or you’re inducted into the back-slapping, business-circle-jerking friendly neighborhood one-eyed cult. The cult 1000s of celebrities, politicians, and other “professionals” have joined since Babylon babbled on about how great its golden god was while stuffing its flaming mouth with burnt baby offerings. You are a thousand percent better than those manufactured (h)ac(k)tors from the (not so) intelligent agencies (whether theatrical or governmental) hacked by demons into doing their bidding. If you or anyone decides to join this cult be prepared to cover their eye with an OK 666 sign, form a pyramid with their hands, stick out their tongues like little brats, slip their hand inside their suit jacket, grip another’s hand in a certain way, or put their index finger to their lips so that they don’t go spilling the tea about this cult’s true purposes. And a whole host of other horrible things they won’t be able to write home about otherwise they’ll have to… you know… Other sextracurricular activities may include orgies, drinking blood (vampires aren’t fantasy-- they’re an analogy, silly!) or a special ritual where the only spirit cooking will be yours. or e). all of the above! Oh, they’ll be obscenely rewarded with contracts, money, fame fortune and glory… the biggest publicity machine in the world. And in exchange for all these lovely gifts, all they have to do is sign on the dotted line (in blood) --would you be ok with that?— and make a disturbing little music video celebrating their incul(t)cation replete with checkerboard floors, demons, kitten ears, white rabbits, and of course, SIN-gle eyes. Who knows? They may even get featured in the AMAs, the Superb Owl halftime show, and probably get a Grammy! Oh, and one more thing in the fine print… They’ll have to sacrifice one of their own. That’s all! What? What’s wrong? Why is your face is scrunched up like that? I know… I’m truly sorry to deliver such unhappy news when all you want is to turn the celestial music in your soul into a light to ignite humanity’s hearts. I’m only trying to dissuade you from needlessly spinning in those cul(t) de sacs set up to drain your soul’s energy. You’re here on propaganda planet for a reason: To say what only you can say, to cast your poems to the wind where they turn into clouds and rain its letters over the earth anointing its bewildered inhabitants. To sing the song only you can sing whose notes pinball against the other stars resounding with the music of the Spheres. To film your holy visions opening the portals between the silver screen and the other dimension, heralding the luminous flood of angels to vanquish the demons starry-eyed psychophants summoned to muck up the world. To be what you were meant to be when you came to this planet! And to anyone who offers you the world in exchange for your artistic soul, just tell ‘em… Your soul contains a giga-verse of stars which are not to be traded on the rigged satanic stock exchange of this puny prison planet. Because dear kindred spirit at the end of the proverbial day, you’ve got something they’ll never have in a million years: the sweet liquid gold of creation flowing in your soul… whose source flows from the Creator of All That Is
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Aw thank you man. I was kidding before. Wax on wax off, lol. Seriously though, I really appreciate and respect your feedback. You totally rock!
OMG this is gorgeous and enlightening as sharp as a tack! I'm so glad you kept pointing me here and Geoff finally got me to click. Amazing!