Musings Upon Being Thought Of As Disillusioned By A Young Fellow Of My Acquaintance!

"The Road of the Roller is Rocky

The Way of the Roller ain't Smooth

The Path of the Roller is Lonely

But the Word of the Roller is Truth"

These words were not inscribed on the frontispiece of  'The Book of Moron' or uncovered in any such similar volume found under a hedge by some credulous hayseed! They were not revealed unto some wandering fruitloop, half-crazed through lack of Viands & Vittals in the course of wanderings through the arid regions of the Middle East!! They were not given to my Animal Spirit Guide as words of Ancient Higher Knowledge from some metaphysical realm  for the Crass and Corrupted world gullible folks inhabit! They were not witnessed as a vision by three bored schoolgirls out for a stroll in some provincial Mediterranean backwater! Nor were they delivered via a dream to some moonstruck loon convinced The End of the World As We Know It is a week next Tuesday!

Perhaps if they had been then more people would recognise them. These lines were hewn by world weary Stoned Holy Hands aboard the 'Ship of Fools' which is currently rudderless and adrift in a vast, Godless desert of Time & Space!! Perhaps that life-cruishing emptiness accounts for the staggering ability of much the greater part of humanity to believe in any old shite and then fall into line, in a febrile army of believers. This never fails to Bewilder & Dumbfound we here assembled in The Church of the Holy Rollin' Rawkin'!! Whether it's  burning bushes, holy books or divine intervention into the earthly sphere through means of flood or pestilence or showers of amphibians from astonished skies, why is it, one may reasonably be permitted to ask, people are always ready to take aw this pish seriously!!   A recent approach to divine intercession has been through C.I.A trained and supplied gangs of embittered young men brandishing AK-47's! And how can we not mention the inspired use of fervent young believers carrying rucksacks weighted down with explosives assured that the instant they pull the cord they will be transported to someplace called Paradise where a surfeit of hymens ripe for the tearing and shiny baubles and silken robes to hang upon their person will be theirs to claim!. God does indeed, it seems, move in mysterious ways - Boom!

contemplating the
Duty of Civil Disobedience!

The long, long list of claptrap Homo 'not so' Sapiens has been, and continues to be, more than prepared to give credence to can surely not be anything but disappointing! Indeed, it can acutely colour one's discourses with one's fellows and severely damage in how much regard we are willing to hold them. This is a danger. Indeed, let's be honest here, it is a pitfall I myself am more than guilty of falling or, indeed, plunging willingly head first into, on numerous occasions!

But one must never conflate the multitude of idiocies that occur in this world or the many instances of downright cretins prospering in it, with the world itself! Therein lies embitterment and disillusion. We're all aboard the Ship of Fools, sure enough, but, O, the Seas are Majestic and the Spray is Invigorating! The raindrops falling into the limitless oceans are yours to make of as you will!



Perchance, O ye Parishioners of the Blogosphere, to be disillusioned you have had to have been sheltering under an illusion in the first place. Well, we'll have none of that mallarkey in the Church of Holy Rollin Brethrenness, thank you very much! We're all Dialectical Materialists here in the coldly rational and analytical chambers within Stoned Holy HQ. Though champions of reason and enlightenment we are, perhaps rather paradoxically, dreamers also
......and what the hell is so wrong with that?

unwashed & slightly dazed
after a week at Walden pond!

Dare to Dream! Dare to believe this Wonderful, Kaleidoscopic Riot of a World can be a place where not a one us is thirsty, not a one of us is hungry, not a one of us is homeless, not a one of us is illiterate, not a one of us is not afforded the opportunity to use their innate human creativity!! Why the fuck SHOULD we live in a world where a tiny minority of warped and debased failures dedicated to the craven, sick, paralysing, enfeebling, hollow, dehumanising fetish that is money control the lives of the rest of us???!!!  I choose to dream on and dream of a world to come where not a one, not the least of those amongst us need work for more than two days a week to enable them to provide the necessaries for a comfortable living. The rest of our time will be taken up with what we should've been doing all along since first we raised our sorry monkey arse onto two legs and developed a brain whereby synapses could fire and mouths could talk words of language, such as these very ones I'm using right this Holy Beat Moment of the Now - namely we shall be taking psychedelic drugs and fucking....or at the least, cuddling one another!!! Lemme Hear Ya Say 'YEAH'!!!

"You, May Say I'm a Dreamer....but I'm NOT the Only One!!" These words from our late departed Stoned Holy Brother John Lennon. Right on, Johnny Boy!....Our late lamented Stoned Holy Brother Henry David Thoreau said much the same thing when he said " Our Truest Life Is When We Are In Dreams Awake".....Beautiful, H.D, Beautiful! So.......

Dreamers Keep On Dreaming!
Disillusionment Blows!!!
Life's A Gas!
Strike Your Match!
Light Your Fuse!

Indigestion & Henry David Thoreau!

"Why should we not meet, not always as dyspeptics, to tell our bad dreams, but sometimes as eupeptics, to congratulate each other on the ever glorious morning?" Not my words, Cyberpeepers, y'understand, but I trust that you too recognise something of yourself in them.

For sometimes, it seems, that Everybody's Runnin Round Town, Feelin Down, Feelin Oh, So Busted Flat! Pessimism IS growin! Bitterness IS showin!....But We at Stoned Holy Headquarters don't wanna hear no more of that crap! Apologies for the Double Negative are hereby extended to ye stick-in-the-mud kinda folks who are irked by such grammatical discrepancies but the S t o n E D h O L y B L o g G e r's got other mud pools tae wallow in.....and here's me glorying in the sticky brown stuff and thinking that when yi reach middle age as a Pop-Flop-Down-But-Not-Entirely-Out and have had to endure years of impoverishment and creative emasculation as well as seeing the bank balances of Westlife swell to untold millions, it can be quite hard to push down the bile and choke back a Primal Scream so ear-splitting it could Shake Lucifer! So it is sometimes you just can't stomach anymore of the chit chat 'bout this n that & everybody pushin in at the bar where everybody's moanin, groanin n dronin on & all you ever hear is Blah, Blah, Blah!! So, unless yiv got something good to say ; unless yiv got a heartwarming tale of bumping intae Mr.Smilesman just as you came ooty Gregg's the Bakers with a hot sausage roll in yir greasy little fingers ; unless yir gonna tell me about seeing a luminous sunrise this very Holy Beat Morning and realising life is a wave that must by necessity break upon the seashore, then just stay the hell away from me!!

Sometimes the awareness that you have failed to prosper in this world would just about be tolerable if it were not for the fact then of recognising the kinda dimwits n retards who have flourished in it at the same time! Oh, Brave New World, that has such people as Dappy From N-Dubz walking around with a full wallet upon its cobbled thoroughfares! It is in times such as these when the words of Mr. Henry David Thoreau, late of Concord, Massachusetts, which opened this monologue, can ring fairly hollow and dyspeptic belchings upon the sorry state of humankind can issue forth from yir gobhole!

In the meantime though, what to do but shut the front door firmly behind you and stride forth resolutely into the infinite bustle of hunting down n grubbing up a few meagre coppers just to get by and do it all again tomorrow. Sun Come Up. Bright Red Dawn. Time Go By. Day Has Gone. Some Folks Dead. Some Folks Born....and The Big Wheel Keeps Turnin' On! So, when you find yourself, as we all do, thrown into the necessary business of money, with all it's dreary machinations and alienating relationships, some other lines of  Mr. Thoreau's do seem indeed, all too prescient :

In the busy streets, domains of trade,

Man is a surly porter, or a vain & hectoring bully

Who can claim no nearer kindredship with me

Than brotherhood by law.

If I may be so bold, Gentle Readers,  can I recommend that when next you find yourself crawling into the familiar comfort of the home where it is you billet yourself away from the vicissitudes of life and the doings of humanity ; rather than reach for that bottle of Chablis or that fat dooby or whichever it is you use to self-medicate yourself, take an hour instead to peruse the works of Mr. Henry David Thoreau and the short essay that is "Life Without Principle" in particular. Enlightening and Enrichening Stuff! That cat Thoreau may not have been a mover & a shaker but he threw his pebble in the pond and knew it ever true that Love Radiates!! The Stoned Holy Blogger claims him as kindred and hereby lets it be known to the Vastness of the Digital Blogosphere  that his star is most assuredly fixed within the Heavenly Firmament & his name is now & forever more etched upon one of the fluted Ionic pillars that partially supports the mass of the Pediment of the Pantheon of Stoned Holy Rollers Gone Before!

Here Endeth The Sermon!....

& the Stoned Holy Blogger Exits Stage Left 

Upon Descending Wearily From The Pulpit!!