I went to visit my brother, where each week we go for a nice hike in nature with our dogs. When my brother picked me up at the train station, he said jokingly, “Great news, Beaver will be joining us today.” Beaver is my brother’s wife. It is also a term to refer to the vagina but that has no relevance here [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B25MPjFSigc]. If on our hike I suddenly feel the urge to take a piss, I just whip it out and irrigate. I don’t need any whining woman shouting, “Eek, a penis!” [Editor’s note: see “South Park” Season 12, Episode 5 at http://www.southparkstudios.com/] If I feel like blasting a fart due to mixing Pete’s Wicked Ale with A-1 Sauce in with my morning green smoothie, there are no qualms about it—heck, I may even get a laugh of support instead of the typical girlie response of, “That’s gross!” [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tv2HygUKgEk,“Fat Jesus” from Seth McFarlane’s Cavalcade] So, needless to say, I went into the hike a little bitter and it didn’t help matters any that my dog companion, Abandon, didn’t seem to join me with a crappy attitude.
I recently pulled out of the hat the fact that I have completed the first draft of my first book. Granted, I was searching for a rabbit at the time but it still was a neat trick. I shared with Beaver and the bro (sounds like a new Fox television show, no?) some of the particulars of the book. So what do you think happened, besides a few cramps from holding back a fart and retaining my urine? Mostly Beaver, but “The Bro” also, started in with all her “advice.”
Now I might have felt differently about the whole situation if I opened my presentation with, “Hey guys, I want to share with you my book but I am really not sure where I want to go with it, so if you want to throw what—had I not given this preamble—would be considered unwanted advice on how I can improve it, please feel free to.” But I didn’t.
When I write a poem, God gives it to me and I am responsible for bringing it into a solid form for those who can’t hear Him directly. I am allowed to take my chisel and modify it slightly, as God is still talking in “Thine’s” and “Thou’s” and that’s just way out of touch with the modern man.
I don’t tell God, “How about we not discuss the pain of being unable to deal with emotions like you’d like me to write and instead write about pissing and farting on a hike?” He’d just tell me, “You work for me, bitch! Do that on your own time.” Fuck God. But I usually listen, as just to work in God’s office is somewhat of an honor, even if it is only as a stenographer.
Hell, I don’t see God’s garbage man complain and, believe you me, God is far from environmentally conscious. To this day I have no idea what in heaven’s name all those tampon applicators are doing in there. I would ask Him but then it might come up that I have been going through His garbage. Awkward!
And don’t think I haven’t had other offers. The Devil offers me a spot as his right-hand man almost daily. I don’t take it because I think he jerks-off with his right hand and, frankly, “I don’t do windows.”
So to hear Beaver and The Bro give me “advice” on what form the book should take, such as, “You don’t want the picture on the cover to be too silly,” not only annoys me but since I am so immature, I will now probably put on the book’s cover the picture of me naked wearing a priest collar and a stuffed Mickey Mouse on my lap with the words “FUCK DISNEY AND THE CHURCH!” magic-markered on my Chest. Ah, Halloween! Nothing but fun and laughs for everyone…
After the brilliant, personalized, in-the-flow yoga session I gave to J.D. [see “What’s Alive In You?” http://rebelyogi.com/whats-alive-in-you], J.D. had to give me a “serious” talk that served as a butt plug to my flow—uncomfortable and yet I find myself unable to stop using it—about what I “need” to do to not only get the teachings I have to share out to the masses, but what my soul “needs” to do.
I sat and listened to that prick, who thought he was being supportive of my “process,” but really, what the fuck does he know about what my soul “needs”? I wrote him an email later saying that while I knew he thought he was being supportive, he should kindly fuck off regarding posturing like he knows my soul. Needless to say, he didn’t like it when the butt plug was in the other ass (no, it doesn’t make sense but if you thought I was going to give up another opportunity to use “butt plug” you’re out of your mind!)
In “Moths and Vampires” [http://rebelyogi.com/moths-and-vampires] I discussed how when someone is shining their light, many useless bottom feeders are drawn to the light and either flap around until they burn and die like moths—instead of becoming fireflies to share their own light to the world—or act like vampires who want to suck your light dry. I realize now there is another form of vampiric moth that tries to pretend it has created its own light by unofficially attaching itself to your light like a leech, often in the subtle form of “advice.”
It is as if they are saying, “While I am an expert on nothing that anyone could particularly identify, I will still talk as if I am and offer my non-existent expertise to you and somehow feel better about myself in the process.” Uh, how about not? I haven’t mentioned my book to J.D. yet, nor do I plan to, but I can only see the “sage” advice this man will offer me who has told me about his book-in-the-works for about a decade now. “You need to find your market,” “What words appeal to the masses?” “Know the difference between the word use of further and farther.” Brutha, please!
My Mom in one of her endless nags, once said to my sister, “I’m only offering my two-cents; you can take it or leave it as you will.” My sister, in one of her only recorded moments of lucidity outside her typical realm of being a bitch responded, “Sometimes people don’t want to hear your two-cents and it’s not warranted.” Alright, maybe she was still being a bitch but it was the one time where I could appreciate her words and forego the fact of her bitchiness.
At the satsang, or “spiritual sharing,” that I led at the Raw Spirit Festival in D.C. this past August, I talked about how all these New-Age yoga posers are torturing themselves fasting from food and from sex and from anything and everything that doesn’t have a stitch to do with spirituality or enlightenment. I will pose to you the same question I posed to them:
“How about taking a fast from sharing your opinion?”
General Charles De Gaulle said, “The graveyards of full of indispensable men.” Believe me, the world will still turn if you don’t share your unsolicited advice or opinions. Heck, it might even spin without the unwarranted whir of annoyance that freely escapes your mouth —but god forbid a fart should escape my butt cheeks on a goddamn hike and it’s, “That’s gross!”
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOIOOhbNYMc, Man in the Box – “New Years”]
