PMPope Blog SF/CA
WordPress.com weblog, American Author PMPope Social Literature from San FranciscoArchive for June, 2006
NEW DAY SUNSHINE!
So, after searching and scouring the streets of SF, It seems our intrepid chair designer has up and split towards the more southerly regions of the state, namely Santa Monica beach, where he tells me he is able to sell mass quantities of chairs in a much healthier atmosphere.The Fit 4 A King Enterprise is closing it’s doors to the public. All stockholders will still be reimbursed the 347% ON THE INTIAL CAPITAL as per our agreement. Do not contact this poster claiming funds owed without A) Business name B) Copy of signed Shareholders Agreement Notarized with 3-DHOLONotary C)Test Scan as per Article IIV in Shareholders Rights.
I know I owe a great deal of money to all of my shareholders, which will be returned as expediently as is humanly possible, moreover,I owe you a great deal of my honor for believing in this project with all it’s tangles and weaves. Someone once said ‘It’s not the man who walks the staright path to the very end who is the success. Any person finding themselves on a strange path full of possibilities, who explores and persevers, they alone epitomize success.’ From where I am sitting right now,this applies to each and everyone of you.
please contact through pmpope@dodgeit.com
Have a great day.
The Day Had Come
Epistle: 1
THE DAY HAD COME
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
PMPope
The day had come after the long darkness. After the screaming and wailing echoing through every chamber constructed for the sole purpose of collecting riches from the poor, to put into the pockets of the rich. After every human manipulation had failed to drive away the lonely night and banish it through technological information well formed and marked up according to the rules of the leading scientist of this era, the day had come.
With this day’s approach, the outlines of the refugee corpses grow more and more distinct. The brightly shining Sun uncovers every mystery occurring through the stretch of night brought forth with the help of the organic nature of man. Man is a creation of God’s love for the Earth and this very same creature has attempted to destroy that creation.
Let’s not get it wrong, brothers and sisters. Man is not God but a creation of God. A creation endowed with great and terrible gifts, which enable Him to tend this place. God is God. There are no two ways around this. God is God.
You may call God a figment of imagination. This matters not. Every tongue that speaks; every brain that contemplates; every ear that hears this, understands the concept… God is God.
We humans are the ones who need. We need food, shelter, clothing, and all the things that separate us from ‘the rest of the animals’. We also need the esoteric things. We need Love, Peace, & understanding.
Our needs drive us into lustful frenzies. We forget, quite often, that we are a part of this planet. We are supposed to be here. We have lost the ability to breath through our gills. We are still learning to fly. Like it or not, this is where we are at… this is where we belong.
I don’t want to come off as a holy roller or anything. God knows the things I have seen and done. I guess I’m no angel. No, wait. I am no angel. If I were, I’d write you guys a letter so holy. I’d then stamp it in fire on the tallest mountain so it would burn for a billion years. It would give light and heat. As you read this letter no harm would befall you. I would send birds from Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s to deliver food all around my letter. There, next to the place of the letter, would be a natural and never ending spring. Pure water would flow sweetly to quench your thirsts as you read the letter.
As each man, woman, and child finished reading this letter, all in their own good time, they would make their way back into the World and tell their neighbors what they saw.
I realize this may sound fantastic or come off as some hippie, marijuana-induced, utopist daydream of a platonic producer of poesy, but I’m just trying to convey the point that this is exactly what I would do if I were an angel.
Even I am not so naïve as to think there wouldn’t be SUVs cutting along the footpaths, helicopters swarming, or lawyers and soldiers coming to take over this thing I can only dream of, without the major sponsorship of a multi-trillion dollar movie industry.
I believe in God. That’s good. I am on the right path. I am slow. When I run through the jungle my feet get tangled in the vines and brambles. I am not very charismatic. I am suspicious of everything and everybody. I get jealous. I lie. I cheat. I steal. I abuse the very people I expect not to abuse others. I come up with crazy ideas. I lead people into false hopes. I am writing this at 8:50 am on Wednesday when the rest of the God fearing world is rushing willy-nilly to put on its’ stockings and ties and take their lumps out in the gristmill of the financial world. I mean, look at me. Those poor immigrant children are rushing off to class so they can become financially stable and productive members of this society. I, on the other hand, am reclining with laptop on crossed knee to write some fairy story of how great the world would be if I were to reach the highest peak of angelhood and start burning words into the mountainside. There oughta be a law against such a wicked man.
The night had passed. The night leashed its’ shadows and headed to the other side of the planet, in much the same way a lion tamer might lightly smack the lion’s hindquarters with a riding crop to lead it into a transportation cage. I’ve always thought the night a bit more juvenile than the day. The night has served me well throughout my youth and into adulthood. I do not feel the lure of the sunlit world to do the banking, legal, retail associated with propriety of humanely orchestrated society. The night is for lovers, poets, artists, dancers, spiritualists, & other esoteric fringe creatures. This is especially true in the cosmopolitan sections of society where great numbers of people gather.
I have believed the night to be a separate reality from the day-lit world. Until I am proven otherwise I will believe this to be a constant truth. I could, and have, survive very well in spending my nightly hours applied to tasks of basic existence (i.e. shopping, banking, buying…) There is a culture of the night. I do not include the people sitting around burning in front of a television set as a portion of this culture. Such as I am doing at this point in my development. I don’t want to do it but I still do it. Weird, huh?
What else are you gonna do at night? Spend all your time hanging out at bars and 24hr restaurants? I mean live. The things that happen in daylight should also happen at night, is all I’m saying. Twenty-four hour public services.
We pay for them to be on all the time. Say you’d like to mail a letter at midnight. Why shouldn’t you have this option? Who would complain? Don’t you think there would be an entire workforce for the night? Of course there would. There already is. Maybe the political thinking is that a nocturnal culture would upset the entire political scheme we’ve set up here. Why not? Things could use a good dusting.
This is the reason for this particular portion of writing. Peace, Love, and understanding. We all need one another. Even if we can’t see them it doesn’t denigrate their necessity.
Let us not curse one another with the bitterness we feel directed towards ourselves.
Let us Live and let Live. If you are against this basic article, you are against me and if you are against me there is no way you could be with me.
I bid you peace to know that I come in the name of the Lord God Almighty.
For the Kingdom & the Power & the Glory
Forever and Ever
Amen & Amen
PMPope
the population, which had seemed quite fortunate at once,
now awoke in the throes of truth. The audience, at first indifferent, becomes more and more acutely rivited. Today they are more sympathetic to the long hard tow of Time’s incessant marching. Again and again he calls out. He calls from the places barely populated. He calls from fields no longer swollen with fruit.
‘What a wonderful show! What a wonderful show!’
Laughing like one may expect. He’s got the whole world on a yo-yo string. He walks through the throngs of traffic determined to make the bus.
He’s been beaten before. He does not opt for the pratfall. Though when he was younger,.. that is a different story.
The Asian faces stare back from the depths of their private voids. Numbers are racing through their heads
Silent times among people with no hope. A force of pure bitterness now rests in the very soul.
At once so proud.
As if the answer had been once upon a time, not so long ago, their personal alchemical formula.
Turn out the lights. The party is over.
Blogged with Flock
Crapping around witha sick Spanish woman
She tells me she has a toothache
She tells me I have no love in my heart
she tells me she's leaving for the weekend
after she eats up all my money/food
Is it any wonder I'm blogging with the meerkat @ the ol' SFPL?
hmmm?
well, is it?
Oh, Meerkat you are so powerful & a great friend even if you are the only friend
Advanced Stations of Fertile Soil by PMPope
go to http://thepword.tripod.com
click on the book 'Advanced Stations of Fertile Soil'
this will take you to cafepress.com
where you will then purchase a true account of life in SF/CA
written by PMPope
