> What's you're position?
Whirling.

> Read any of his books?
Yes. I recently read most of Meetings with Remarkable Men.

Anyone know of a link to Gold's the Gabriel Papers etc- like a.... "free" one???

I just got the Human Bio Machine, looks kind of interesting. Like Fourth Way meets Robert Anton Wilson or something!

mr bluebeard
for e.j. gold

revisiting mr bluebeard at his gothic castle in northern california, with all his nubile corpses, oxymorons, scattered around, i am in a mood of delirious discovery. so nice to finally find what i have been looking for for so long. always good to catch up with the proofs...interesting too to be reminded just how much so much warm blood affects the mind.

dizzying, vertigo and stop. the confusion must have to do with what the old books say.

they say that human blood, especially the menstral blood and sperm--are the most potent magical substances there are.

interesting too, how the quest for healing, which had begun to seem impossible and wrong, is neither. it has been down here all along, waiting with the others.

is this his basement? must be. here's where all their bodies are--shared grave of flesh and bone. concrete walls and floor. no way in or out. here are their eyes no longer seeing, still wide open, staring dumbly into that once-blinding, extinct sun.

that bad sun has set; it was the wrong one.

the expressions on their faces do not change. that last look which also was the first look, remains on them, a shock, a stalled moment of betrayal recognized. it is ah-ha! the satori we all came here for.

the sadness would have happened later, and the rest of it, if they had survived their deaths.

guru, father, lover, child, god. here is the man i trusted most. why steal what has already been given you in full?

they are younger now than when they were alive and they are sisters now, their hands too small and wrongly limp for this thing that's happened to them. i hold each one. i breathe my warmth through their cold noses into them because i feel that this is something that i took from them--their life.

is it possible he can not feel and so he did not know that it was all already his?

i try to give it back to them. my breath makes hollow echoes through their lungs and ribs--the shadow sounds most fully in the spaces where their hearts had been.

we form a circle on the grass in front. we sit cross-legged on the earth. we tell each other our full stories now. the real ones, not made-up, from start to finish now... our individual stories which are different from the rest. then we see what our one story is--hidden then but so obvious now.
this story is the same.

through laughter and shared tears we see now how we got here on the lawn. this is how we forge it, our one story, into stone. we use our blood and breath and we agree. we leave it carved here so we can find it any time, stolen from inside. it is a giant canvas, a wedged-in stone wedded to the ground. we make our marks too deep to be erased.

it'll stay like this: marker, tombstone, plaque. an explanation. exhibition. a warning to lady-travellers by night. a calm and care-filled elucidiation of a fact.

i tell them these heart-warming tales. i stroke their hair and sing them songs. i want to comfort them. i feel important. i still think that i'm alive. i apologize sincerely for the jealousy which made me hate them then. it was because their beauty made me feel so small. i thought i'd disappear. which is why i couldn't love them then. when it would have mattered then. i tell them..... this is why i didn't help. i tell them...

here are my reasons why i did not do a thing.

i say it now, at last, ridiculously, how sorry i am.

at least all that bad business between all of us is finally done.

but of course they can not understand a word.

and then i go to leave and find i can not move.

When I read "The Human Biological Machine As A Transformational Apparatus" I was very impressed. I had already read the Secret Talks and fallen for the now obvious charade of it. Then seeking my "Gurdjieff" I got involved with the "Institute" for a couple of years. I've read all his basic books and while I enjoy them, they left me with a feeling similar to "where's the beef". Titilating but with no "Happy Ending". Then I left for the next "Gurdjieff" to come down the pike, and my next learnings. While I feel funny about the imitating of Gurdjieff, I enjoy the humor and theater of Gold's approach. Zen Basics is pure genius, Bardo Bootcamp, the inner clubs and workshops were real, and the video gaming is something I love love. I took on Zelda as recreation and workstation. My life was enriched by playing Zelda with EJ Golds insights into Bardo playing. The way you play in the game mirrors the way you play in "real" life. All things considered, I'd have to say E.J. Gold's world was a positive influence on my life. I appreciate his work and while I have mixed emotions about it, I think the experience of the mixed emotions is just another venue for learning. Now I think that the lack of catharsis in the outer teaching is appropriate, hard to understand, and rare. This is actually something I think we could focus on as a work topic. I can vaguely say it as- what is the difference between cathartic and non-cathartic teachings, or ways? Anyone got any insights?