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Cosmic Pancakes and the Art of Being Illuminated
INTRODUCTION
It started as an unassuming yet powerful board game invented in the privacy
of an outlaws home in the metropolis of Orlando,FL USA Earth. It turned into a
way of life for one radical writer, one computer genius, two starving artists, and
a buvch of struggling musicians. The name of the game was Cosmic
Illuminations and was once played non-stop for forty-two hours by one starving
artist, one musician and assorted third players of the same persuations.
It led some of these same people ona strange and sometimes terrifying
journey through the inamous Chapel Perilous. But this is not the story of these
trips. Somewhere else in time and space they will be comitted to print (most
likely by my own hand as no-one knows the story as I do). This is also another
tail of the Schrodinger Cat experiment, surrealisticaly portrayed by my own
concoction of cats.
This could very well be the story of the universe, the magicians, dragons and
unicornspyramids of all ethniccultures, the number 23, video music, chocolate
fondue and the esthetic value of spotted geckos as an Eastern art form. But it,
like any other flash of magic insight, is not about any of the things. It is a study
of that rare American species, the Innocent Artist.
So climb, if you will, into the prismatic tunnel of unreality, and experience, if
you can, the delusion of grandaur, the world of the visionary, the lamenting of
latent genius, and the light of the illuminated. All contained in theis
light-hearted expose of the Seriusly inane.


stranger angels

as she wraps herself into the cocoon
gypsys dance around the monument.
the pavilion is flooded with light.
dancing shadows outline the entrance,
inviting the chosen to listen.
he stands.
he stares.
he smiles.
he wonders why.

the dancing moon speaks no evil
yet spills his own blood
on the virgin soil of the earth,
blind to her spreading pain.
prophets view this rape, yet say
that they saw nothing but
the pounding beat of destiny
becoming one with chance.

The silent street alerts wall-watchers
that something is wrong.
the far-off sirens that shriek in the night
have become comforting,
but the silence creeps along, as a
painting of a thunderous
herd of buffalo keeps
an empty room occupied.


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Favorite Links
 
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WHITE FEATHER
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Robert Anton Wilson
For the literary type

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BowieNet
For the musical type



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