Illegitimati Non-Carborundum!

“Illegitimati Non-Carborundum. Never let the bastards grind you down”.

That was my Dad Horace’s advice back in 1957, when the civil rights stuff was starting to get fired up and ready for prime-time.

The hate groups have never been covered by the press, not ever. Fear? No, not fear, just no interest from a public that had no direct experience of hatred, intolerance and racism.

Not pointing any fingers, but there was just no interest. Now that blood has been drawn, and Trump has revealed his racist nature for the world to see, even YOU can see it coming down the pike, and it isn’t good.

You’re right in the path of stampeding cattle, and there seems to be no way out. Doesn’t that sort of remind you of “Pig & Horse” just a little?

It shouldn’t surprise you to learn that the solution to “Pig & Horse” is essential the solution for this time-frame, where white supremacists take control of the government temporarily.

Putin walks right in on top of them. So What? Big deal. This is not my planet, monkey-boy.

So I’m going to do my level best to ignore the threat from the Extreme Right, ignore the threats coming in from all sides now, and most of all, I’m going to totally ignore the growing threat from Washington, and the almost as bad threat from North Korea and all the other extremists and violent creatures, and just dive right into an ongoing game of BardoMania®.

I want one foot in the grave when they take me down, and that’s that game is all about, that’s why I introduced it into the Life of Humans of Planet Earth, and it has been my intention for the past fifty years to make this happen and now, thanks to the new technology programmed into the SIM by Professor Jenkins, I can make it happen in a big way.

Of course, the crisis can’t always be an actual riot outside your home, but we can get very close to that by just staying tuned to your favorite news channel for any length of time. The way hate groups are spawning in this country, you’d never know it was America only six months ago, and we were united as a people.

It’s very different now, with Trump and his Alt Right people in control. We have to fight, literally maybe to the death, to survive the killing ambitions of the Extreme Right. You can expect attacks on gay rights parades, black lives matter events and such.

Think a moment — had the driver of that car been anything but white, and had it attacked the Right-Wing people, Donald J. Trump would be screaming “Domestic Terrorists!” nonstop all weekend, but he didn’t, because the driver was a White Supremacist, and the targets were all Democratic voters and other such trash.

If you have morals and ethics and standards of behavior and a lack of the kind of crude rudeness that leads one to say “Good, it’ll save me some money” when 750 families are suddenly thrown out of work, because they must return from Russia because Putin said so.

Any other President would have had the backbone to stand up to Putin, but Trump is horrifically afraid of Putin, because Putin has something on him, just as some White Supremacist — I know who, but I’m not saying — has something on him just as bad.

If you’re a target of the Extreme Right, be advised that they are visibly armed with assault weapons, as you saw on Bloody Saturday, and you may have noticed that they also wear combat battle vests and helmets, and their weapons are actually locked and loaded.

You have to expect violence and trouble from now on for the rest of your life or until you can manage to get out of Trump Amerika before it’s too late and you and your family are rounded up and put to work or killed.

They want slaves.

No, I’m not kidding. They want slaves. They never grew up, guys. This is in fact the zombie apocalypse for which you’ve been waiting.

You can’t protect yourself without arming yourself, and that means getting down to their level of violence, and I’m against that plan.

So in the end, you can’t protect yourself, and if they overrun you, you will die, just as Heather died, or worse. Nothing to fool with, but you lose no matter what you do. In the end, they take you down.

Well, shit, if I’m going to be hanged as a horse-thief, I might as well have the horse, as the saying goes.

As you go down, you can take them with you — you don’t need a weapon for that. But what can you do while you’re waiting to be attacked?

At least you know who they are and what they want. That’s a relief, eh?

Ok, so let’s look at our options for “what to do until they take us down”, or “What To Do While Waiting To Die”.

Options If Under Personal Attack:

• None.

Fine, so what else is new? Like I said, the Best Laid Plan is to ignore them and don’t let them grind you down, and that means to hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.

I really don’t want to sit here with my Peacemaker in the lap-drawer of my desk, ready for fast swivel-action old West cowboy style.

I don’t really want to take anyone down for any reason, and resent being pushed into a corner into that very position.

So guess what I have in the lap-drawer of my desk?

I don’t really want to live for very long in a world like that, do you? So I’m suggesting that you prepare yourself for the Afterlife NOW, by putting one foot in the grave, which is to say, by constantly and continuously playing BardoMania® for as long as the threat remains.

I’d also leave a little time for your other practices, but BardoMania® is portable and can be played anywhere, even if you’re hiding in an attic somewhere, busily writing a young girl’s diary.

Hey, let’s call it “Diary of Ann Frank”, just to be different. It’s a book that describes a Holocaust that I personally witnessed 75 years ago, and it’s happening again, despite what the Jews said after World War II — “Never Again!”.

Human memory is short. My memory is long. I’ve been through all this thousands of times before, and SO HAVE YOU, and you could easily bring yourself into the Knowing State merely by “tickling the dragon”, which in this case means playing BardoMania® a LOT, so much so that people around you begin to worry about your sanity.

Rest assured, no matter how crazy it looks now, when you’re lying there in a heap, amongst family and friends, it won’t look so dumb.

One Foot In The Grave.

You literally are only seconds away from death at any given moment, with the fear and terror in the air and on the streets.

While you’re sitting there waiting for the bomb to drop or the wild war-whoops of an attacking Mongol Horde of Right-Wing Enthusiasts, you might want to stay in the Bardo, as it were, all or most of the time.

This makes the transition into the Between-Lives-State so much easier, and your upward progress is not impeded.

Keep One Foot In The Grave, play BardoMania®.

Playing BardoMania® will actually do several good things for you while you’re waiting to die and when you actually do pass from the organic world, the world of Trump & Friends, thanks to the affirmative action of the extreme Right, which at some point will put you in the gas chamber or pull the trigger.

You can’t stop them and you can’t fight them forever. Like zombies, they multiply and keep on coming relentlessly and endlessly and there’s nothing you can do to save yourself or your family or your friends or your home or your country or your world.

Keep one foot in the grave by playing BardoMania® night and day, 24/7/365 if you possibly can. If you have to go to work or cook or clean or do other stuff once in a while, make it short. You never know what’s around the next corner, or who’s going to burst through the door a moment from now.

Be Ready, Have One Foot in the Grave!

I don’t mean defend yourself. Any idiot can do that. A Higher Being will continue to play BardoMania® regardless of the provocation. I remind you of the discussion that Claudio and I were having about attention and awareness, during a robbery at the Berkeley off- campus cafe where we sat at two in the morning, intensely discussing the workshop and waving away the hoodlums.

When the cops came in to question us, they had to get our attention, and when when finally came to understand that there had been a robbery and that the thieves were very upset that we didn’t respond to them, we laughed.

What else can you do?

I want to underscore the fact that it was a workshop on attention and awareness. Claudio and I have often used that event to indicate something having to do with both concentration of attention and awareness of outside attentions.

This distinction will mean little to anyone who hasn’t experimented with Higher Levels of Consciousness.

You can run an Orb while waiting to die, or you can go tabletop, with a game board of BardoMania®.

Myself, I like the alternative of BardoMania®, where you have a chance of dying with friends and family, not alone, in some cyber cafe, attacked from behind by an ape with a club.

Die Before You Die!

Let that Ancient Admonition rule your life as the threat of death edges ever nearer you and your family, friends and home.

Realize that there is no government willing to help you, willing to defend you, and you must not give in to the Dark Side, must not let them drive you to violence, even in self-defense, unless you happen to be good with a Peacemaker.

Dying before you die is easy, with one foot in the grave, and that’s accomplished easily by sitting down at a table with three other players and playing BardoMania® even while they’re taking you down.

Don’t stop playing, go right into the Bardo making your move on the board, ignoring the intrusion. They’re just zombies. They belong here. Move on to the Next Level and leave them to their ruin.

“You go, we stay, we belong dead.”

That’s what Frankenstein’s Creature said when those young kids were trapped in the burning tower with Dracula and the Creature and the Wolfman, remember? Dead belong with dead, are used to being dead, don’t expect any better, and being dead doesn’t get any better than being dead and playing BardoMania® forever and ever and ever.

Remember that feeling of timelessness when you were a kid and played Monopoly? Well, what if you could play Monopoly but in another, totally different, dimension? What if you could reach right into the Between-Lives Bardo State and touch and move pieces around on a board in that other dimension?

Well, you can. That’s what this is all about. BardoMania® is a special board that exists in two dimensions at once, guaranteed.

I personally guarantee that it will set up a connection between your organic self and your Between-Lives Self, and that it will maintain that connection while you are playing the game, and while the game persists, such as during a break in the play for snacks.

It’s like my Uncle Lou, who died a tragically prolonged death — he fell into a whiskey vat and had to get out three times to take a pee.

Play BardoMania®. Ignore the white men bearing weapons and bristling hate. Forget all that, just play the game, play the game. Ignore them. They will eventually die or go away or kill you or stand there.

So what? Big deal.

Don’t be at all interested in organic life, except to do what’s necessary to survive and work on your spiritual path, your spiritual disciplines and efforts to relieve suffering and bring enlightenment to all beings everywhere.

That’s “All Beings”, not “All Robots”. Be clear about what you’re seeing, what the world really is and what it’s really all about, Alfie.

You want to use this experience with Domestic Terrorists to sharpen your disgust for the organic world and the things of the organic world.

What better meditation than to see and transcend the material world?

And that’s what BardoMania® is all about. Learn to die before you die, and that means, “learn to Transcend”.

Yes, Transcend.

Don’t dive down into the swamp of Trump. Don’t give in to the Dark Side. Play BardoMania® and let them kill you and be on their way to the next victim and the next and the next — it doesn’t stop until we liberals are all dead, dead, deadski.

Death is their only answer to life, which is why they espouse “Pro-Life” which kills many pregnant women, but hopefully no men.

Never mind all that crap, just play the game.

You can use your Monopoly player markers, houses, hotels and paper money if you don’t want to order the stuff I’ve designed for the game, like cool clay-base genuine casino chips and hardwood cases and things like that.

What I mean is, if you’re broke or just plain cheap, you can save $$$ by using parts from other games, such as Monopoly or some other game you’ve got lying around in the closet or game box somewhere, or use a bunch of wooden matches colored with a set of magic markers.

There are other ways to save money, but no better way to die, than to let the Grim Reaper take you in the middle of an Endless Game of BardoMania®.

Be sure to thank them for making your passage possible, but whatever you do, don’t stop playing BardoMania® just because you’re being eliminated as part of the “Jewish Problem” or the “Liberal Problem” or the “Gay Problem” or the “Non-White Problem” or the “Muslim Problem” or whatever problem you and your minority represent for those creatures.

Don’t sweat it. Beat the rush to Hell — get taken down just as you foreclose on your opposing players. If you’ve just put Midnight Madness Sale markers on Bardo Walk and Park Plaza, it doesn’t GET any better than that!!!

Health Benefits of Playing BardoMania®

As far as I know and can prove, there are no health benefits to playing anything. That’s the official word of the present government on the subject, and who am I to argue?

Actually, I’m the Avatar of the Western Realm, which means that if I happen to also have a couple of dozen bucks in my pocket, I can get on a city bus or buy a couple gallons of gas or an early breakfast at MacDonald’s.

It’s certainly worth the billions of years of in-game personal experience to acquire the skills necessary to serve as the Avatar of the West, and I would gladly put in the time, but I was busy playing BardoMania®, for which I offer no excuse other than the recognized fact that it is totally, completely addictive and absorbing.

Once I’m in a game, I find it almost impossible to dig my way back out. I designed the game so it would even hold you if you had no attachments to it, how about that for great programming?

It’s either a feature or a bug, depending on how you look at it. Right now, from in here, it looks like a feature, but I know that when I take a moment to examine the .ini file that has the command “goto trumpworld”, it’s bound to have a really stupid mistake in there somewhere, usually a missing or extra semicolon or closing fancy parenthesis.

I hate that, which is why I put “tracers” in the system, so I could rewrite what I don’t like when I get back outside the SIM, but as it’s running now, I really like what I see, which is a rising unstoppable tide of armed Domestic Terrorists coming down the aisle.

Now, THAT’S what I call funny.

If you feel actually threatened by death, you really need my remedy, BardoMania®, and you should play it day and night, as I’ve recommended. There really is nothing else you can do, and for a Higher Being Solution, it’s excellent.

Always be prepared to die, at any moment. That way, you won’t be disappointed when you do manage to step on a rake, or something equally stupid.

See? No bragging rights in the Afterlife for “I stepped on a rake” or “I backed up while taking a selfie at the Grand Canyon”, which actually is the primary reason for most deaths there.

No, you want to pass over to the Other Side with some flair, and a sense of purpose and aim. There’s no better solution than BardoMania®, and don’t you forget it.

You can start playing BardoMania® right now, this very minute, but you’ll need a board, at least that much, and you might, as I indicated, also want other parts of the game, unless you plan to use Monopoly parts, which is quite acceptable until you can easily and painlessly afford the chips, tables, boxes and such.

I’ve posted hundreds of gaming parts on zazzle, redbubble and cafepress, but you’ll have to work a little to find them, because I’m not putting in the links here for them. I’ve already given you links in an earlier blog, and really, you just need to know the name of my shop — it’s always “Prosperity Path”.

I’m trying to beat the time by getting this blog written as quickly as possible, always looking to the sky for the nuclear fireball — don’t look directly at it, unless you want to be turned into a pillar of salt, like Lot’s wife, Zelda.

Yes, Zelda.

By the way, you’ll be able to play on many different BardoMania® blocks. The first board is just the first block in a long chain of blocks leading around BardoTown®, which you can find in many forms online and offline.

So BardoMania® is the Final Solution to the Xenophobia Problem, and it’s YOUR best solution to “What To Do While Waiting To Die”. There isn’t any better spiritual path than to be aware of the immanence of death, while remaining calm peaceful, clear and able to work without fear.

Like I said, if I’m to be hanged as a horse-thief, I might as well have the horse, and one way to have the horse is to be right in the middle of a good game of BardoMania® as you go through the Veil to the Other Side.

Sgt. Felix was a good friend. I learned a lot about helping new troopers through the ordeal of First Shock, when they actually realize that they’ve just signed away several years of their lives and that they would soon face deadly risk in Vietnam and other hot-spots.

When you’re a soldier, you know that there’s a body bag waiting for you at the end of the line, and if your duffle bag got stolen and there were no immediate replacements and you had to travel on a cargo plane with a body bag stuffed with your belongings, you know exactly what I mean.

It’s almost like being already dead, when you take it for granted that there is no other way out of here, and that sooner or later, someone or something will catch up with you, and these days, if you’re not a white supremacist, it won’t be a “something”, it’ll be a “someone”, wearing an armband proclaiming the Master Race.

Master Race, indeed. I am the Master, and I never run for a bus. Since they’re so good at taunting, maybe “Master Baiter” would be more correct, si non? That’s French, not Yiddish, so it’s okay, dude, no actual threat to the French — yet, but they’re on the Long List.

On the Short List is YOU, and you and your family are at the top of their list, so it won’t be long — you’d better order your BardoMania® game now, if you hope to get in a few hours’ or days’ play before they catch up with you and take you down.

“Don’t worry, Barbara, we’re dead. What more can happen to us?” — Adam Maitland

I put in the quote from Beetlejuice just to give you the idea of how to have the horse of which I spoke.

For the Already Dead, There is No Fear of Death.

BardoMania® has the same effect as running an Orb, and is a very powerful magical tool. It “borrows” space from one Reality Stream and imposes it into another, like picking up a graphic from one place and putting it somewhere else, from file to file, see?

When your character goes around on the board, it sets off similar and connected linkages to the Other Side, opening the door to the Between-Lives State. Simple basic magic. So what are some results or effects of playing BardoMania®???

• Every time a player passes “Start”, it resets the cycle, and counts as “One Bead” in a mala, or one run of an Orb, and accomplishes any intention set into the game.
• The Board is actually in another dimension. Playing on it puts you halfway there, “one foot in the grave”, as it were.
• Playing the game on the surface of the StarGate “tickles the dragon” and gives you some presence in the Between-Lives State.
• Healing and other Psychic Benefits accrue from playing in the Bardo spaces by playing the game of BardoMania®.
• A sense of power and energy will result from playing BardoMania® because of the “dipping into” effect of the Board’s Energetics, similar to the method by which radionics produces some of its effects.
• Your vision will definite open up to the Bardo as you play the game of BardoMania® even though the connection may or may not be obvious.
• Someone unfamiliar with the Between-Lives State or any of the work ideas can play BardoMania® and still get the very best results.
• Playing BardoMania® will help you conquer your fear.

In a nutshell, what you want most out of this game is to conquer fear for hours at a time, and at the same time, to maintain a constant and powerful connection with the Ashram and with the Between-Lives State so you are in a condition of continual readiness for the attack when it does come, and rest assured, it will.

As long as the government is in the hands of White Supremacists — and it is, at the moment — you haven’t a chance. Nobody will come to your rescue. You can’t depend on the authorities to help you — they’re under the control of the White House, and they’re as likely to send you help as they are to help the anti-fascist demonstrators who are getting bloodied up and killed on the streets of Trump Amerika.

What a scene. You can’t make this shit up.

I wrote about all this in SlimeWars, so if you’re still being surprised by events as they unfold, you clearly saved yourself a couple of bucks by not buying the book.

You want some good advice?

If you want healing, get it while playing BardoMania® — do all the “normal” things you’d do to treat whatever it is, but also try to play a little BardoMania® to see if it helps ease the pain and suffering, or at least takes your mind temporarily off the threat of violence on your life, home, friends and family.

Everyone is in danger now. Everyone.

The street is not safe for anyone. The malls are not safe. The stores are not safe. The theaters are not safe. The restaurants are not safe. The business buildings are not safe. No place is safe from them.

Of course, I’m not afraid of demons.

I have plenty of demon friends of my own to combat the hordes of demons set loose by Asmodeus in the guise of Donald Trump — a fantastic disguise, I never would have thought of it myself, and that’s why we run the SIM out without interference, it produces such amazingly unexpected and unpredictable details of any world you want to play in!

No place to run to, no place to hide.

Look, at 76, I’m not bloody likely to be able to get to the Canadian border on foot with a heavy pack on my back. My weight lifting limit is 2.5 pounds, maximum, after two surgeries that saved my life, but left me unable to draw a bow or carry a backpack.

Chopping down trees to make a shelter would be beyond my ability right now, and I can’t say that I’d be able to recover strength enough to manage it.

I can barely afford my medications and medical procedures that I must undergo every few months, and I’ve been on Social Security for ten years now, and that’s very heavily threatened by Trump & Friends.

So realistically, I can’t afford to leave, and I might not survive the transplantation to another soil — I can easily be thrown into an unstable condition by the slightest change in daily routine.

As a result, it’s inevitable that I’ll run into them sooner or later, and when I do, only one of us is going to be left to tell the tale, and that’ll be me.

Of course, I’m here to tell the tale now, from the last time I went through. I remember each and every pass through here, when I want to call up the memories, but they mostly come out the same every time.

You have to die sometime.

My friend and neighbor Jim Morrison came into the shop one morning at around eleven A.M. after an all-night binge, and said, “I just realized the most important thing I ever knew in my whole life.”

“What is it, Jimmy?” I prompted, stepping over to the bookcase from the counter where I’d been arranging oils for him to sell to young impressionable girls — I did not yet know that Jim was a singer and had a band.

Janice and I moved to Roth Dell Lane a week later, and then we found out — meaning we couldn’t sleep nights with them making that horrible racket. We lived between his band house and the place where Cass Elliot and Dennis were staying for a short time, up on Laurel Canyon.

Cass was Jan’s closest friend. They used to drop acid and go up to the hills by the ocean to watch the UFOs land, but I digress:

Jim leaned over the big overstuffed Morris chair near the bookcase, and almost whispered his latest revelation: “You’ll never get out of here alive,” he said in an uncharacteristically hushed theatrical tone.

I’m kidding about the lack of theater. Jim was 100% personal drama, and he thrived on it.

“Your point being … ???”, I proffered, waiting for some elaboration. “I mean, haven’t you always known that?”

“Sure,” he replied, “vaguely, sure. But this morning, staring into the bathroom mirror, it really HIT me.”

And do you know what? That IS what it’s going to take. You need to get swatted across the forehead with something before you really take it seriously, and that’s what’s happening now with the racists in Trump Amerika.

It really is a swat across the eyeballs to see them marching and open declaring themselves, no sheets anymore, no pillowcases for the white supremacist kids.

No sheet, senor!

With friends in the White House, they need hide no longer. Of course, that’s a double-edged sword, because in their greed for power, they have unmasked themselves, and revealed the rot in the White House for anyone, even the most dense, to see.

That should scare the Hell out of you, maybe enough to get you to at least give it a TRY — get a BardoMania® game and see how it helps you to overcome fear and anxiety in a world of fear and hate, uncertainty, ignorance and superstition.

One thing on which you can count, one definite thing upon which you can be 100% sure is the oncoming of a period of deep forgetfulness, like what happened after the burning of the Library at Alexandria.

No matter what happens now, history will enter into a dark phase of mystery and superstitious mythology.

Nothing will remain of this civilization in just a few years’ time. Nobody believed me when I wrote that 45 years ago in “SlimeWars” and nobody was listening when I wrote the first few volumes of “My Life as a Boy” either, but now that you can see the bloody faces of those who dare to oppose the white supremacists that they really are out there, in bigger numbers than you ever suspected — by the millions, and they are growing stronger every day, because nobody is scared enough yet to do something serious about the threat to civilization.

And nobody will. It’s too late, anyway, to stop the oncoming wave of death and destruction that is coming our way right now, at this very moment.

A New Dark Ages

You are about to see the cloak of darkness descend on civilization around the planet. Humans will never again emerge from this darkness, but that’s not YOUR problem, nor is it your problem to decide or figure out how to survive in this World of Trump.

You actually aren’t expected to survive for very long under these conditions, and it’s unimportant how you conduct your life at this point, except to live and do your spiritual path journey as best you can in the situation.

They are in charge of the White House, Congress and every other branch of government, and if you still think you’re safe, just wait a few days!!!

What a good time to enter into the Realm of Darkness, with your wits about you and your skills intact.

Someone who knows how to traverse the Between-Lives State really knows how to live, so play BardoMania® for Life!

I think I’ll leave it there for the moment. Stay tuned. Don’t be afraid of them, don’t let them make you cower in fear. Resist them right to the end, but do it by playing the game, don’t let  them distract you!

Ignore them! Non-illegitimati non-carborundum, like I said at the start. Even when they’re taking you down, ignore them, play on, party on, dudes!

All phenomena is illusion, not just some.

See You At The Top!!!

gorby