I just realized my painting of the Angel at McClure’s Beach – may be inspired by the movie ‘Tommy’.
Yesterday I talked with Peter Shapiro about James Taylor and Meher Baba. Peter played at the first Acid Tests, first with The Marbles and then with The Loading Zone. Peter played with The Who. Black radicals tried to burn down Thirteenth Street, Tommy’s Camp? Rena Easton’s husband was a RAF Pilot that got shot down. I see that Starfish – is Tommy – who suffered from PTSD due to family abuse. I tell friends and family that I suffer from PTSD from my accident and fall, and they don’t care. Their need to get to the heaven in me – drives them mad! How come Lazarus didn’t have a cult following. Hmm!?
To take a photo of the cave from atop the rock, is such a profound experience. I saw an army coming out of the sea on horses – carrying banners. Millions of Christians celebrate the chaos and terrorism of women and children – thinking thei Christ is coming back – for them!
For two years Peter Shapiro and I have been working on a musical in order to help Christine Wandel – WHO was Bill Graham’s lover. We get no help. At their core they know they are looking at the Genesis of Acid Rock – and they scheme to get money – somehow! Somewho!
I get no hep from Ken Babbs and his Cronies! Hmm! Sounds like a hit tune – in a new musical!
Seer Jon
I did a painting of my angel from memory in 1975. I died in 1967. It was the second woman I had done. My skills were not up to par. I had not painted in years. Note the cleft at the top of the rock that goes to another kingdom. I am going to do more religious work.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Loading_Zone
My Last Dope-Smoking Days
It is on this basis that I approach another of Baba’s most powerful and controversial statements:
“Drugs are harmful mentally, spiritually and physically.”
I repeat these words parrot fashion, not knowing honestly whether I would have said it myself had Baba not said it first. One thing I do know, the last acid trip I took (on a plane coming back from the Monterey Pop Festival) would have been my last whether I had heard the above from Baba or not. Acid had taken me apart but not put me back together again, and it is clutching another of Baba’s statements about drugs that I justify what I did to my brain:
https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/in-love-with-meher-baba-by-pete-townshend-237859
After about six months of Baba following, Baba was still alive then, I met a guy in San Francisco who had met Baba in India called Rick Chapman. Rick lives in Berkeley and runs Meher Baba Information from Box 1101 at the Post Office there. He is the man responsible for the glut of Don’t Worry, Be Happy cards that you must have seen if you live in San Francisco. As we sat in a shared hotel room in San Diego I rolled a joint, spouting some high flown guff about being a happy Baba lover. Rick took it very calmly considering that he spends a good part of his time lecturing on the spiritual side effects of “soft” drugs and what Baba had said about them. Anyway, that day was my last stoned day in the normal sense. It was easy to give it up. Like a lot of others, I was getting a little bored with pot highs which seemed limited to the strength of my imagination at any given moment. In other words I was looking for an excuse to say no to the joint as it came round to me.
They were formed in Berkeley, California in 1966 by singer-keyboardist Paul Fauerso, following the dissolution of his jazz group The Tom Paul Trio. The original lineup was Fauerso, bassist Bob Kridle, drummer Ted Kozlowski (replaced by George Newcom), and guitarists Peter Shapiro and Steve Dowler,[2] both formerly of Berkeley psychedelic rock band The Marbles, who had supported Jefferson Airplane at the historic “Tribute to Dr. Strange”, the inaugural Family Dog promotion concert held at San Francisco’s Longshoreman’s Hall in October 1965.
The Loading Zone’s first major concert was the Trips Festival at the Longshoreman’s Hall in January 1966.[3] Although primarily an R&B band, The Loading Zone added contemporary psychedelic influences and soon became a popular attraction on the burgeoning Bay Area music scene. The Loading Zone was based at the Berkeley venue The New Orleans House, but performed numerous times at major venues including the Fillmore West.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Loading_Zone
Who Will Be – The Acid Christ?
Posted on September 15, 2023 by Royal Rosamond Press
Well, it looks like I’m left holding – The Bag – because Ken Babbs has become a public spokesperson for the Eugene Emeralds, who are in the public domain seeking tax money to build a new stadium. This is key because the Kesey family, Babbs, and the Pranksters created a Legal Vortex in order to protect themselves – FROM THE REAL ACID CHRIST – if he ever dare rear his ugly head!
WILL KIM JUNG UN INVADE OREGON……IN ORDER TO WIPE OUT LGBTQ FOLKS?
Don’t ask Babbs because he’ll probably say;
“Hey man. You must be smoking some good shit Can I have some?”
Kim Jung Un went to Moscow to promise Putin he will send him bombs and rockets to kill and maim the Citizens of Kiev that was founded by Vikings – my ex-wife’s people. Patriarch Kirill was probably consulted, and he may have had qualms about an oriental killing Anglo-Saxons. But, it looks like the Ukrainians may be victorious, thus ending the short rein of THEIR CHRIST, that is being backed by Right-wing Christian Nationalists, that are poised to shut down our Government and end military funding to the enemy of Kirill”s Christ!
Kesey died in 2001, when Christian Leaders – were still sane! Babbs saw how crazy they became, but, has buried his head in his woodchip pile on his farm.
Ken Babbs. I bid you to turn over your Prankster Assets, and your Crown and Scepter – to the the real Acid Christ, so I can prepare the people of Oregon for an invasion from North Korea!
John ‘The Real Acid Christ’
https://www.cnn.com/2023/09/12/opinions/putin-kim-meeting-tyrants-ghitis/index.html
When North Korean dictatorKim Jong Un arrived in Russia’s Far East region on Tuesday in his grandfather’s armored green train on his way to meet Russian President Vladimir Putin, he helped underscore two important facts about Putin’s unprovoked war against Ukraine.
First, Putin has turned what was once a mighty and respected army — and country — into one that is reduced to seeking help from an impoverished state that can hardly feed its own people. It’s a humiliating exercise for a diminished Putin, who vaingloriously compares himself to the 18th century Czar Peter the Great, and not a great look for a deeply tarnished Russia.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acid_Tests
A Christ figure who quit his day job as the new Norman Mailer to deliver millennial baby boomers the psychedelic New Jerusalem, Ken Kesey’s super hero career began with the biggest bang ever. Not even Ernest Hemingway, Norman Mailer or John Updike had, by age 28, enjoyed the double-whammy of two literary and commercial smash hit novels—only to then ditch literature to rescue mankind, hoping to “stop the coming end of the world.”
“The Chief” was an archetypical American Fair-haired Boy (sub-species Son of the West) madman for all seasons, as profoundly American as John Wayne, Hugh Hefner, Sonny Barger or Britney Spears. Writer, artist (Kesey’s illustrated jailhouse journal reveals a master of caricature), Olympic class (almost) athlete, musician (his frog voiced “Jimmy Crack Corn” ranks with, if not “White Rabbit,” at least “Double Shot of My Baby’s Love”), lady’s man, magician, thespian, friend to those who had no friends, social architect, jail bird, original hippie cum great white father, the Great Truth Teller as consummate bullshit artist, he was that rare soul who had a talent for everything.
Kesey was a man of kaleidoscopic extremes—wildly imaginative in the smallest details of his life but otherwise about as free-spirited as a speeding ticket. Fair-haired farm boy turned messianic jock Apollo, Kesey sold himself as Mister Sixties. Rousseau’s Natural Man for a post-Machine Age. But like most evangelicals, what Ken liked most was god and girls, an ethos at odds with the unalloyed idolatry he inspired as author of the new utopia that became the starry heart of the young national imagination.
That said, it’s likely most everything people think they know about Ken Kesey is wrong. His decision to ditch literature was (or at least could have been) as brilliant and misunderstood as the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, and he never burned out—at least not in the sense that he lost his talent. The talent remained, if in later years reserved more often for the paragraph than the page. It was his concentration that became a problem. Kesey represented the Freest American Ever, a man who embraced Open Marriage in a way it rarely had been embraced before, and the soul of a lost civilization that flourished, however briefly in the time between the Summer of Love and Deep Throat.
As the Man Behind the Curtain, if not the Hero with a Thousand Faces, Kesey was a savant with failures more brilliant than a lesser savant’s triumphs, but who as a man whose life ended mired in booze, drugs and litigation, had created his own moral Mars-scape and left a wake of those who felt both inspired and betrayed.
Flip open the 1956 University of Oregon yearbook to gaze upon—rank and file—the class photographs, the black and white pictures of gray to grayer nineteen-year-old old maids. Young women who with pale faces and crimped hair already look like elderly spinsters. Another reality. Ancient and distant as Oz. Here we find the 21-year-old Ken Kesey; pretzeling an opponent in a wrestling match; beaming confidently beside fellow staff members on the school newspaper.
Flip a few yearbook pages and see Kesey on stage in Macbeth. A man-child for all seasons. Kesey: “The guys on the wrestling team used to say, ‘You write? You act? What the hell you doing over there with those people?’ Over in the drama or writing department they were always bugging me about associating with a gang of thumpheads.” So what were his motives? The best of both worlds, he was the center of attention in either realm.
[In 1958, Kesey enrolled in Stanford University’s graduate program in creative writing and soon volunteered to be a test subject in a CIA-sponsored study of the effects of psychedelic drugs.]
For everything was about to change. Thanks to the good offices of the nearby Menlo Park Veterans Hospital, where the medical powers that be were employing the lesser academic locals to audition a new elixir miraculous. “I had a neighbor,” Kesey recalled, “a psychologist booked to do the experiments (one) Tuesday, he chickened out.” So for twenty dollars a session, Ken Kesey was presented with a kaleidoscopic array of mind-blowing drugs. For six months.
Kesey waxed philosophical. “The government said we’ve discovered this nice room, we need somebody to go in and look it over…Eight o’clock every Tuesday morning I showed up…ready to roll. The doctor deposited me in a little room on his ward, dealt me a couple of pills or a shot or a little glass of bitter juice.” Then the doctor locked the door, but popped back every forty minutes to see if Kesey was “still alive.” He took some tests, asked some questions, left leaving Kesey to “study the inside of my forehead, or look out the little window in the door. It was six inches wide and eight inches high, and it had heavy chicken wire inside the glass.”
Sub nirvana but the road to nirvana still, and, thanks to Federal Government LSD, the best Kesey ever had. “They gave me mine—paid me and quite a few other rats both white and black…to test it for them, started it so to speak, then, when they caught a glimpse of what was coming down in that little room full of guinea pigs, they snatched the guinea pigs out, slammed the door, locked it, barred it, dug a ditch around it, set two guards in front of it, and gave the helpless guinea pigs a good talking to and warned them—on threat of worse than death—to never go in that door again.”
To the extent great novels usually evolve from a trinity defined by character, place and action, Cuckoo’s Nest was—its inverted locale and red hot lone anti-hero notwithstanding—about the latter, less about describing the symptoms than initiating the cure. By the time Randle McMurphy had worked his martyred magic in Big Nurse’s loony bin, Holden Caulfield had spent at least ten years reminding adolescents that the sane were crazy and the crazy were sane. Before and after Catcher in the Rye, which was published in 1951, The Day of the Locust and On the Road had celebrated magnificent empty energy and the terminal restlessness of a motor-headed, empty-hearted Vacuityville that was all about getting drunk on the lost dream of the West and going nowhere fast.
Cuckoo wasn’t so much a portrait as, like Christ’s ministry, a call to action.
As novelist Gurney Norman claimed “when Chief Broom throws the control panel through the insane asylum window…that was the first shot of the revolution.” Add that to reality as a conspiracy, psychedelics as reality, institutionalized insanity, wow. The time was right. Something exciting was in the air.
It is perhaps symbolic—or fitting—that the classic comic tour de lunacy, Animal House, which was filmed largely around Kesey’s old Beta Theta Pi fraternity house at the University of Oregon, was set in 1962—the same year Cuckoo’s Nest was published, and the same year that future Oregon Governor Tom McCall produced a film documentary, Pollution in Paradise, that revealed an Oregon being destroyed by industrial waste, a film that initiated the national environmental protection movement. It was a year later that the Kingsmen recorded the new national anthem, “Louie, Louie,” for $36 in the basement of a Portland restaurant. In the years that followed, Cuckoo’s Nest went on to sell 7 million copies in 66 editions and has never gone out of print, a perennial bestseller long after its message of liberation and misogyny and enlightened schizophrenia helped open the Pandora’s Box that was the 1960s. And Kesey’s next novel, Sometimes a Great Notion, made Oregon, or at least the idea of an Oregon, the protagonist; a wild dark-souled wilderness alive with spirits and horrors.
“The job of the writer,” Kesey once said, “is to kiss no ass, no matter how big and holy and white and tempting and powerful.”
So, on to Act Two. Sometimes a Great Notion was a veritable paean to not kissing ass…transforming a dysfunctional family of union-buster loggers into transcendent symbols of American individuality.
Especially given that it was such an unhappy book, driven by images of drowning, death and suicide—which came to haunt Kesey, who having returned to Oregon from Stanford, and before moving to the coast, began Notion in the lakefront home of a family friend who had recently committed suicide.
MEATBALLS: Kesey (second from right) turns the camera on a KVAL television crew while a young Bill Murray (second from left) holds a microphone. IMAGE: www.clydekeller.com
Huxley, Leary, Kesey. It is important to bear in mind that those psychedelic seers were at the very least almost a decade older than the sheep. Abbie Hoffman, Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Joan Baez, Frank Zappa, The Beatles, The Jefferson Airplane, Grateful Dead, Country Joe, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, the Doors, all had at least five years on the audience they were playing to. Kesey was a grown man about to lead a children’s crusade; he and his band of acid-dropping shepherds were old enough to have been baby-sitters for their baby boomer sheep. Giving a new twist to the term in loco parentis.
Conservatives Side With Killer Kirill Against Griner
Posted on August 5, 2022 by Royal Rosamond Press
Brittney Griner has won three gold medals and compiled a 34-2 record in a USA Basketball jersey.
I told you so! Do a million evangelicals back Putin and Kirill? British Intelligence – wants to know!
It’s time to put Paul and Jesus on trail!
Seer John
Right-wing author Dinesh D’Souza used the conviction to defend Jan. 6 insurrectionists who tried to overthrow the U.S. government. “It seems like the Russians are doing to Griner what the Biden administration is doing to non-violent January 6 protesters,” D’Souza wrote. “Hard for us to feign indignation when the same thing is going on here!”
https://www.abc.net.au/religion/why-do-american-white-evangelicals-support-putin/13846702
Putting Paul And Jesus On Trial | Rosamond Press
Conservatives Join Trump in Siding With Russia After Brittney Griner Guilty Verdict
Althea Legaspi – Yesterday 1:15 PM
Brittney Griner was found guilty of smuggling illegal narcotics into Russia and sentenced to nine years in prison on Thursday. Griner had told the court she used marijuana for medicinal purposes, as is legal in the United States and other countries. She was caught with less than a gram of cannabis oil.
Former President Trump bashed Griner recently, calling her “a potentially spoiled person” who went to Russia “loaded up with drugs,” and right-wingers are now celebrating the verdict on social media in step with the Russian state, which found no sympathy for WNBA star and two-time U.S. Olympic gold champ.
More from Rolling Stone
- Brittney Griner Found Guilty in Russian Drug Smuggling Trial, Sentenced to 9 Years in Prison
- Brittney Griner Trial to End ‘Very Soon’ as Defense Claims Vape Examination Violated Russian Law
- Trump Sides with Russia Over Brittney Griner
Right-wing author Dinesh D’Souza used the conviction to defend Jan. 6 insurrectionists who tried to overthrow the U.S. government. “It seems like the Russians are doing to Griner what the Biden administration is doing to non-violent January 6 protesters,” D’Souza wrote. “Hard for us to feign indignation when the same thing is going on here!”
Conservative pundit Tomi Lahren showed her trademark lack of empathy, taking aim at Griner’s activism for racial justice and implying she hates America. “Brittney Griner is a cautionary tale. Hate America? Think it’s oppressive? Go to another country, play stupid games and find out what oppression and ‘No justice’ looks like. Too bad too sad.”
Commentator Tim Young whose Twitter handle is apropos for his comment, wrote “Brittney Griner is not a political prisoner… she carried drugs that were illegal with her in Russia and was arrested – there’s nothing ‘political’ about that.”
Trump-approved conservative commentator/author Nick Adams blamed Griner’s support of President Biden for the sentence and falsely claimed there would not have been an invasion of Ukraine had his Dear Leader been president. “While discussing Brittney Griner’s prison sentence, I think it’s important to note that Russia would have NEVER invaded Ukraine with Trump still in the White House,” Adams wrote. “In a way, Brittney Griner’s jail time is a result of her own activism and support of Joe Biden.”
As Media Matters pointed out in the lead-up to the sentencing, conservatives have been using Griner as a pawn alongside Russia, with each side furthering their agenda. The right wing wanted Trump as president over Biden and claim Trump would’ve saved Griner from jail. Meanwhile Russia likely wanted to exchange Griner for convicted Russian arms dealer Viktor Bout, who is currently imprisoned in America.
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However, when the State Department made the offer to include U.S. Marine Corps veteran and former security executive Paul Whelan, Russia countered that offer with what the White House called a “bad faith” counter offer. President Biden addressed Griner’s detention following the guilty verdict on Thursday. “Russia is wrongfully detaining Brittney,” he wrote in a statement. “It’s unacceptable, and I call on Russia to release her immediately so she can be with her wife, loved ones, friends, and teammates. My administration will continue to work tirelessly and pursue every possible avenue to bring Brittney and Paul Whelan home safely as soon as possible.”
Best of Rolling Stone
- The Useful Idiots New Guide to the Most Stoned Moments of the 2020 Presidential Campaign
- Anatomy of a Fake News Scandal
- The Radical Crusade of Mike Pence
- Rep. Liz Cheney said the evidence is there for the DOJ to charge Donald Trump over the Capitol riot.
- Cheney said Trump is guilty of “the most serious dereliction of duty of any president.”
- She said that prosecutors avoiding a case could threaten the US reputation for integrity.
Rep. Liz Cheney on Thursday said that DOJ prosecutors risk harming the US reputation as “a nation of laws” if they do not charge former President Donald Trump.
‘Our Starfish’ Will Leave The World Behind
Posted on July 31, 2022 by Royal Rosamond Press
The Royal Janitor
Chapter New Cold War Heros
by
John Presco
Putin’ s men took Starfish and Victoria to a special prison, where a hologram of the Russian leader introduced our BAD agents to foreign prisoners. One was a giant of a woman that played basketball. Miriam told this forlorn woman that she was an athlete, an amazing hurdler – who has never competed!
“We ran in a grove of trees felled in a windstorm. Ivan competed at Hayward field in Eugene Oregon.”
One of the men behind the mirror got on Google and brought up Victoria Thachuk, a Ukrainian hurdler that will compete at Hayward field, while Russia is banned. Putin’s hologram was fed this information, and his image pointed to a screen. When a video of Viktoriya in a race was played, both our spies gasped.
“They are like sisters – twins! “
“I want a pair of sunglasses – just like that! I must have! I can beat her! She is so beautiful! I must have her! She is my double!”
Three Percenters Assault Gays
Posted on July 13, 2022 by Royal Rosamond Press
I am still working on my letter to Senator Wyden and Adam Shiff. I am going to inform them of what I witnessed at a Gay Pride Rally at Wayne Morse Square. Did the Three Percenters deliberately book themselves in order to clash with LGBT folks? The 3 advertised there would be Bible lessons, and I dressed like The Anti-Christ, a title applied to Merlin, who I also dressed like.
I found a video made in Portland where the same chant I heard is made.
“No Trump! No KKK – no Fascist State!”
There appears to be a group that shadows these Jesus Freaks For Trump, they dressed in black. Is this Afta, who is being blamed for the Jan 6th Insurrection-Riot? Donald Trump is fully aware of these folks who need to be spotlighted at the hearings to show they…..DID NOTHING WRONG! Ed Meese has probably kept a dozier on Afta, because this is HIS FAVORITE SPORT….Oddball Hunting!
Putin and Kirill Hate Hippies
Posted on April 8, 2022 by Royal Rosamond Press
Putin and Kirill know it was the Beatles and Hippies who brought down the Soviet Union. Once again the Imperialists with a Fake Morality, title Hippies – Nazis! Ronald Reagan made the analogy.
The CIA helped Regan make a case that members of The Anti-War Movement were parasites looking for a free hand-out. A study needs to be make of the Republican Party pro-longing the War in Vietnam and voting billions to do so. How much did the last Cold War cost?
John
U.S. Military Founds ‘Unhappy Land’
Posted on June 7, 2016 by Royal Rosamond Press
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The Bones of Elisha
Posted on July 9, 2023 by Royal Rosamond Press
So it was, as they were burying a man, that suddenly they spied a band of raiders; and they put the man in the tomb of Elisha; and when the man was let down and touched the bones of Elisha, he revived and stood on his feet.
Today is Sunday Morning, and I wonder if I owe anyone an explanation about me being
RAISED FROM THE DEAD?
Yesterday I almost began a poem about Augusta Janke Stuttmeister, where at rest in the Oddfellow cemetery in San Francisco, she hears the sound of a spade slicing into the earth near her. Believing she is hearing things, she goes back to composing the longest poem anyone ever penned in Belmont where she and William got married.
The Belmont Stage
brought us back home
to the land of my grandfather
and his sons
Here is our bottling company
over there
a new batch of children
climb q spiral staircase
to the top of a great
oak tree
Happy faces
like sunflowers
I recall each one
Right away they kidnapped
my dear Husband
the doctor of dentistry
That glorious sunny day
Doctor Stuttmeister
yanked his first Belmont tooth
All those dead teeth
and skulls
that paved our way
in life
dancing in the fields \
of California Poppies
Hark! What is that sound
our new neighbor
Mr’s Higgens turning the soil
in the spring of our
famous love
While googling The Dead this morning, up popped a passage from the Torah about the burying of a man, when suddenly Moabite Raiders appear on the horizon! The dead man is thrown in the crypt of Elisha. Touching the bones of dead Elisha – he returns from Hades!
HE’S ALIVE!
I did not come – to read the Bible. I came to bury the our dead! I had already seen God, and His Kingdom of Truth. Now – where to put my body after I died on McClure’s Beach. That’s the rub!
Because it would only occur to me to ask – this very day – what Moabite Raiders would be wanting of a Dead Man? Would they use him in some outlaw religious practice, put him on a hot griddle, and have him do…..
THE DANCE OF THE DEAD?
Months after I find the Stuttneister-Janke crypt in Colma, then my disappeared daughter comes back into my life. My kin were not going to tell me she was pregnant.
We wee led down the magnificent corridors of a great mausoleum. We turned a corner and a attendant said
“HERE IT IS!”
I was -shocked! There were these heavy bronze gates, that I expected to squeak when I pulled. Inside I knew this was – prophecy! Three generations of Carl Jankes great grandchildren – entered! We glowed in the pale light of a Tiffany window. There were roses in blue earhen jars.
Later I would stare hard at the tombstones piled helter-skelter on the beach to make a seawall, lest the new batch of investors lose the their ill-gotten gain, land that belonged to others, going West, ravaging sacred buriel grounds.
I called man of God in Belmont, and told him, as a Man of God – how outraged I still am to find another memorial stone with the name of another Belmont mayor stamped on it with another bronze plaque. This man was on the board of a church. I told him about three of my grandparents were thrown in the same grave. I commented on how – I’m supposed to REACT!
“Are you thinking I need a good attorney? And this will solve THE BIG PROBLEM?”
What is needed – for starters – is a good poet. I wrote this poem three days after I died. I saw my father, the great great grandson of Carl Janke, rowing a boat out to sea, where Dorothy and Carl sailed around the Cape in 1848 with six portable houses on board the Clipper. Three years ago, I read the account of another relative I didn’t I had – COMPLAIN about the removal this name….
JANKE STREET
Why? Why is there no Justice. No Son of God, nor resurrection – along with those dead – on..
JUDGMENT DAY?
The Man who asks “Why?”
COMETH
I am forced to count my Dead Kin, whose bodies have been defiled. There are
FOUR GENERATIONS WHO HAVE BEEN DUG OUT OF THEIR GRAVES
and I am wanting an explanation. Who is truly forcing my hand to say this…
You are truly a wicked wicked generation to use the Words of the Lord to hurt and degrade others, in America, and all places, across the Seven Seas..Who would want to minister to you -least be your prophet, come, raised from the dead…by God Almighty?
HERE I AM
Moabite Raiders – all! You got your dead body – after alll! What are you going to do with me?
19 The Lord was with Samuel as he grew up, and he let none of Samuel’s words fall to the ground. 20 And all Israel from Dan to Beersheba recognized that Samuel was attested as a prophet of the Lord. 21 The Lord continued to appear at Shiloh, and there he revealed himself to Samuel through his word.
The Dark Horse
by
John Presco
1967
The dark horse is in te ocean
gray-silver manes around the sun
The hollow horn of the eye
plays chords out to sea
which set adrift my father’s boa’
of wood and colored scales
The setting sun
like a golden ring
he places on one hand
and brings homes his day’s catch
crystal colors upon the sand.
THESE ARE THE BONES OF ELISHA (DECLARING THE WORD OF THE LORD)
One of the most curious events in all of Scripture is found in a single verse in 2 Kings 13. That chapter records the death of the prophet Elisha, and yet, there’s still one more story of Elisha here some time after his death. 2 Kings 13:21 tells us:
So it was, as they were burying a man, that suddenly they spied a band of raiders; and they put the man in the tomb of Elisha; and when the man was let down and touched the bones of Elisha, he revived and stood on his feet.
Elisha was dead. And yet when a corpse was thrown into his tomb hastily in an attempt to hide from marauding bands of Moabites, the man came back to life simply by his corpse touching Elisha’s bones. Even as miracles go, that one’s quite impressive.
Yet it’s not one we tend to talk about all that often. Elisha and the widow’s oil, Elisha raising the Shunammite’s son, Elisha sending Naaman the leper to dip in the Jordan: these we know and love. We might even be quite familiar with the floating axe-head, the feeding of the one hundred, or the healing of the water. But yet there seems to be a silence cast over Elisha’s bones and the raising of the dead man.
Now, I imagine that silence is due to a certain discomfort. You see, the only time I ever hear this miracle mentioned is by Anglo-Catholic friends arguing for the veneration of relics and prayers to the saints. The bones of Elisha almost seem to be the perfect proof-text for the power of relics. And so, no wonder we evangelicals are somewhat more reticent to talk about Elisha’s bones.
Yet we shouldn’t, for there is much we can learn from Elisha’s bones. The Holy Spirit did not inspire this verse to have us hastily rush past it in the most hushed of tones. Rather, like all Scripture, it is ‘profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness’ (2 Tim. 3:16).
But before I go on to what we can learn here from 2 Kings 13:21, let me just dispel our dis-ease. For, you see, although it might still be trotted out as a proof-text for relics today, that argument was debunked back at the Reformation. As Martin Chemnitz put it in his refutation of the Roman Catholic doctrine defined at the Council of Trent:
Scripture does not say that that dead man was brought to the tomb of Elisha with the aim and purpose that he might be brought back to life by contact with his bones, as though it had been at that time the custom among the people of God to run to the sepulchres of the prophets or saints in order to seek grace and power among the bones of the dead by means of vows and invocations. But the text says that that man was by an unexpected emergency cast into the sepulchre of Elisha when they wanted to bury him and, because the brigands came upon them, did not have time to make a grave. Therefore, lest the unburied corpse should be exposed to the caprice of the enemies, the opened the cover of the sepulchre that was nearest, which was that of Elisha, and did not lay the dead person in it (for they did not have time for that), but threw in the corpse. When it had fallen to the bottom, it touched the bones of Elisha and came back to life …
Now , also after that miracle took place, we do not read that the bones of Elisha were taken out of the tomb, elevated to a high place, carried about; they were not set forth to be kissed, touched, viewed; they were not honoured with candles, not adorned with silk, not adored with invocation for the purpose of obtaining help, not set forth for a special cult. Neither was a pilgrimage instituted to these bones for the purpose of there seeking the grace and power of God; indulgences were not promised; these relics were not laid on the sick and on the dead; people did not swear by them; faith and hope were not placed in them, etc. We read absolutely no such thing in Scripture about the relics of Elisha, also after that outstanding and amazing miracle through his bones had taken place. But the bones of the prophets were left in their tombs or sepulchres, as also Christ declares (Matt. 23:29).
(Martin Chemnitz, Examination of the Council of Trent, Vol. 4, pp.26-27)
So, let’s reclaim this verse. To borrow a biblical expression, Elisha being dead yet speaks. Elisha’s bones declare the Word of the Lord to us, so let’s listen to what they have to say. Here are two important things I think we can learn here, and then after my suggestions I’ll give you what Chemnitz suggested as well.
1) In death, our bodies are still united to Christ.
Salvation isn’t just for our souls; we’re saved as whole persons. So at death, Christ doesn’t abandon our bodies. It’s not a case of our souls flying off to heaven to be with Jesus, while our bodies are quietly forgotten and no longer of any significance. Far from it! That’s why when Christianity came to this country our funeral practices changed: we stopped cremating and started burying because Christians die in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection of the body. Our bodies still belong to Christ after death. Our bodies are still united to Christ after death. And so our bodies will one day be glorious raised by Jesus from death.
The Eyes of Rocky Point
Posted on July 1, 2020 by Royal Rosamond Press
This morning I found ‘The Eyes of Rocky Point’ that go with the eye at McClure’s Beach….where I died. It was a wake up call that I had been thrown off my spiritual path, and had given up looking for the truth of how Christine drowned. I looked at more videos of this dangerous place – that my niece Drew Benton saw with her very eyes! However, she has never said so, or, given a first hand account of how she almost drowned – too!
I have decided to sue Drew Benton, get her in a court of law, and on a witness stand. I deserve to know how my beloved sister – died! I want my attorney to ask if she was scared down in that cove my friend, a Private Investigator, did not want me to enter!
Vicki told me Drew has no fond memories and feelings for her mother. She did not attend Christine’s funeral, nor did her father. At her mother’s home, Garth dropped Drew off, and did not come in and say hello to Rosemary, Lillian, Vicki, and myself. Why? Yet his words fill several pages of Rosamond’s biography. Drew played video games with Shamus which got the attention of my detective friend.
“She appears as if nothing had happened!”
There is not a spiritual bone in Drew’s body, yet she is a dark beam in the eye of the surviving family artist – and all artists! Time to remove it. Drew knew where my seventeen year old daughter was when her mother disappeared her from my life.
I played Albatross when I got home from the funeral. I expected this kind of truth, to arrive. Instead, the lies kept pouring in. Drew did much to destroy Christine’s legacy. She still allows herself to be used as the dark cauldron, as our natal family dies. Am I the only one left?
John Presco
The Cave and Cleft of God
Posted on June 23, 2019by Royal Rosamond Press
The Cave and Cleft of God
A Study For a Painting of God
By
John Presco
Copyright 2019
God had conversations with Man. Has anyone compiled His Words? In compiling photographs of McClure’s Beach for my Painting of God, my Angel said;
“God dwells here. This is the Home of God! God liveth in this cave. He will never dwell in Jerusalem again.”
Talk like this will get me killed. By whom? I will be called insane, some more. By whom? Here is where I died, on this sand. My friend had taken me into the water to wash the deep cut in my hand, and a wave caught us. There was too much sand in the water so we went out to our knees. I was completely wet, and went into shock. I looked up and saw an angel hovering over me. I pointed her out to my friend who looked down on me in a tunnel.
I left my body and walked through this cleft in the rock that a photographer calls a “crevice”. I sat down and beheld God sitting on a rock, that does not exist, unless it is just out of sight in the lower right. You can see the two rocks on either side of the opening. They are like pillars. That is Elephant Rock. My friends built a large fire next to me to dry me. I believe it was the pain of my steaming blue-jeans that brought me back. It was the first thing I saw. I was curled up in the fetus position. The Cave of God is to the left, down the beach a seventy yards. This is His view. Quite a improvement over the Men who love to argue and fight. I am done with that! I was done with that – back then!
As the touched down on the horizon, I was in a Great Battle. Tanks and landing craft came ashore. In every wave advance knights on horseback with lances and many flags. I did not survive this battle. I heard dying American soldiers in Vietnam. We died.
God came here, and looked te thousand miles across the Pacific. He was not happy that America had forsake…………THE TRUTH! He showed me……….THE TRUTH! This is the home of………THE TRUTH!
The waterfall is seasonal. It falls about fifty yards from the cave and looks like the wings of a great angel. I will paint my angel again. This time with wings. Elephant Seal Rock. A great beast comes out of the sea.
Above: A point Just south of McClures beach. I walked through a crevice in the rocks to get here. I believe this the area known as Elephant Rock.
I did a painting of my angel from memory in 1975. I died in 1967. It was the second woman I had done. My skills were not up to par. I had not painted in years. Note the cleft at the top of the rock that goes to another kingdom. I am going to do more religious work.
Rosamond Press 