Markus Parkus

Hello Leo, I’d Whatch you on Anything mate. Absolutely Anything. Cooking, Shopping, Motor Cycle Maintenance. Anything. You have the finest mind I have ever known. You present things beautifully and simply and in their purest form so that even I can understand them and I watch every week in reverence as Narcissus is turned to a flower. A flower. Drvvvv, Drvvvv, Drvvvv, Drvvvv, if you go down to Willow Farm. It’s from Supper’s Ready. I’ve never heard you talking about music. Did you know that your whole journey has been captured in song and presented to us by Gabriel, from Genesis with utter subliminal subtlety and a poetic Artistry that would make Douglas Hofstadter nod and smile and (thank you for recommending him. I’ve discovered Chopin.) probably steal from because as we know, every poet is a thief as Bono told us But he still hasn’t found what he’s looking for because, well because he’s the Lord of all ego’s, isn’t he, but Gabriel has, because he, isn’t. Early morning Manhattan. Ocean winds blow on the land. Movie Palaces now undone. The all night watchmen have had there fun. Sleeping cheaply on the midnight show. It’s the same old ending. Time to go. Get Out. It seems they cannot leave their dream. There’s something moving in the side-walk steam: And the Lamb lies Down on Broadway. Utter genius: Rael is the Shadow character and I loved Rael when I was growing up. He had all the rage and sexual destruction (without outlet) I was looking for and I played him in front of my MiRRor and I sing pretty good and: You’re sitting in your comfort. You don’t believe I’m Real. You cannot buy protection from the way that I feel. MiRRors are really important in Art, aren’t they. Have you seen the MiRRor scene in Paris Texas. ALL the tracks are Capitalised apart from the climax which is is tiny little letters and called: it. We all call it, it, don’t we. I don’t know why. So much better than ‘You know who’ or Consciousness, but thank you Leo. You have explained it all perfectly to me and now my Man Brain is happy again and prepared to play passenger once more to my girl. You have a massive advantage over us. We’re all listening to the Chamber of 32 doors and reading Lao Tzu and trying to make some sort of Rational sense out of something we all know is deeply attractive to us for some reason but we don’t quite know why. 98% of us are still in flippin limbo land mate, and can only dream of Leo land and hear it in our songs and almost get there and we are not sitting quietly in meditation because it just feels so wrong and there must be a better way to get there than that. The cure is worse than the disease. I’d rather stay here. I know Gabriel sits quietly and waits. I do the same myself: Turn up the Signal. Wipe out the Noise. One day Leo when I’m listening to Lay your Hands on me (and Listen to that Album for the Glory of Spiral Dynamics Purple Reigning down on us from the heights of Turquoise or Above) or chanting it in my van as if I’m here on my own and no-one else can hear me and I’m just singing to myself or talking to myself or writing to myself, Something will happen. The veil will lift and Isis will be mysteriously revealed and I will realise that Love has been here all along and all the Rom Coms will suddenly make sense and I will at last be in Leo Land and I will be the King of the Jungle and yet I will feel like a little mouse, or softer still, and even more meek, and even more gentle. And the lamb lies down on broadway. Contrast at it’s heaven splitting binary best. The majesty and rage of Back in New York City and then the tenderness and tears of the Carpet Crawlers and there are tears Leo. There’s always tears when I write. Otherwise I don’t write it. Have a listen to Alanis Morissette to see if she’s made of the same stuff you’re made out of. This lady resonates with me and I’m pretty sure she will resonate with you. Why are you so petrified of Silence. Here can you handle this: Did you think about your bills, your ex, your deadlines, or when you think you’re gonna die, or did you long for the next distraction. All I really want is Alanis. My sweaters on backwards and inside out and you say how-oh-wow-oh-wow appropriate. Isn’t she beautiful. I trust this Lady. She tells the truth. How brave do you need to be to go through your Therapy Live and in front of an uninvited Audience of who knows who. We’re all ready to pounce from an extremely high, morally deluded, hobby horse called ego enhancement but not many of us are prepared to be a good counsellor and genuinely: Listen without Prejudice. We really must stop doing that. It impedes the process and we’ll all get struck off for Transference or wanting to bed the little bitch with lo self esteem. More emphasis on Shadow work Leo. We need to own our own demons and then and only then will demonisation become a little less tenable. Most of us still have a very powerful engram that says Jesus was a good man. A Good Man, Born Good with a copy book so pure and a closet so clean and pristine he could run for President. He wasn’t, was he. He’d been through the Colony of Slippermen and seen himself in all his glory otherwise how could he have empathy with anyone. We need to take a little peep into our own personal little Room 101 to see what’s so terrifying about a friendly little rat or a great big bear coming at you through the woods on a black November night with teeth to put you to bed. We’re all quite happy to be Hitler. Zhik Heil and Bon Ami to everyone but we don’t really feel it, do we. You need to get closer to home. You need to touch those things that we’re actually, almost in touch with. That’s what will frighten us. I would gladly goose step down the streets proclaiming All Jewish Comedians need to Attend the Ministry of Silly Walks and let Basil Fawlty instruct zem in ze wayzs of ze Fuhrer. But I would be less willing to put my stockings on and get publicly pilloried by a bunch of Alpha Jocks who somehow think that, being a girl, is not a beautiful and creative place to be. Music is our Therapy. Music is most people’s Therapy. Most of us don’t even know it, we just listen to our songs and find love and sympathy or empathy and another human soul that is prepared to share with us and tell us the truth. We should get our politicians to sing to us. You can’t lie when you’re singing. You can’t lie when you’re writing a song. What’s the point. Who wants power. We want beauty and honesty and utter fucking union and communion and possibly even com-communion but now I’m getting meta and I don’t know meta like you do, so let me in Leo. I’m bored out here. I want to sing. Everywhere else is Lies. Music is the Truth. What your Sunday Sermons lack is a bit of Theatre or something to stir the emotions. What would make them Holy (and by that I mean whole, or complete, as if the Masculine had met the Feminine or Beelzibub had met his Maker, or Black and White had fused into a Million Shades of Multi-Perspectival, subtlely nuanced, ever changing, not to mention Pornographic shades of gray) would be if you could provide Music and Miracles and Music produces Miracles so let’s go with that. Thank U India. Thank U Frailty. Thank U Disillusionment. Thank U Consequence. Thank U Clarity. Thank U Silence. Thank U Alanis. We Love U. Her final track on that Album is set to the tiny little tune of Twinkle Twinkle little star and is so simple a child could understand it. We’re talking Idealism. Yes sweetheart, I think we are:

Every journey home is utterly unique. If you’re not loving your meditation. You’re doing it wrong. If you’re not getting up every morning going, I can’t fucking wait. You are wasting your time. I am not enlightened so shoot me down in flames. I cannot wait. I have been to Heaven and there is a path for waifs and strays like me, so just be you and you cannot fail. Leo sells it really good, doesn’t he. 1 in a million of you will make it. Is that 1 in a million of people like you or 1 in a million of people in general. Either way, I like those odds Leo. Sign me up. You should be Dancing, Singing, Painting, Writing. You should be Writing. That’s what’s making me pause. I am writing. I love writing. It’s what I do. He tells us, don’t ape the Messiah. Be the Messiah. I am the Messiah. I’m not the Messiah. I’m a very naughty boy, and I really am but more of that later. I’m not ready to confess yet. You don’t know me. You might judge me. I don’t like that. It causes repression and denial and sends you back out into the world as the New Fake You. How long will it be until that persona gets demolished. You have to build on the truth. That’s your truth, not my truth or Leo’s truth but I fully accept that Leo is the Truth and if all else fails I will take my 30 mg of 5Meo DMT and hope for the best. I think surrender is the key word but I’m not ready to surrender yet. I love being an ego again. I’ve had my ego demolished many, many times but when it comes down for real, you will fucking know about it. When Card 16 has finished with you, you are dead. That’s the end of you. There’s no coming back from that one mate. I’m not a Philosopher. I barely even know what Epistemology is. That’s Leo’s passion. That’s Leo’s chosen specialist subject and if he went on MaterMind, he’d have to write his own questions because they couldn’t touch him with a telescope from where they are. He has basically kicked down the front door and gone. Let me in. I’ve worked you out from First Principals and I demand to see you. Well glory be to that and well done mate. Thank goodness for you. I was beginning to give up again and drift back into Rationalism and Relativism and just good old Daddy Driven common sense. This time round, I’ve started playing darts but I do it in silence and I do it mindfully and I listen to every single sound and every single thought. I’m very good at listening. I’ve been doing it a long, long time. I follow Frasier. I follow Genius. I follow Me. I’ve done the Leo, 7 second challenge. I’ve been round my room several times and done all my objects. I love my fox. I love looking at my fox but will he collapse into a state of non-duality and set me free. I don’t think he will. I may as well paint him. Then I might get to see him for who he truly is. I ended up stretching while I was doing it so as not to waste time and in the end I started throwing darts. At least I was moving. I don’t like sitting still. It’s not natural. Thud, Thud, Thud. We like this. It’s quite hypnotic. It’s very gentle and very peaceful and very repetitive. 20 minutes goes in an instant and I want to play again. I wake up looking forward to it. I go for the middle. That’s where the power is. Right at the very centre where the extremes of outrageous fortune or misfortune cannot touch you. You should see my old board. It’s pretty obvious that someone’s trying to get in. I’ve just bought a new one. It’s beautiful and I play with my Angel Darts and I keep them on my altar over night and I record my progress. I count my inner bulls as Leo Consciousness and I count my outer bulls as My Consciousness. That’s pretty presumptuous Mark. I hope you can back it up. I think I can. And that’s my line. And I listen. I wonder what’s in that little red dot in the middle. It doesn’t change does it. It doesn’t matter if the 20’s at 12 O’Clock or 10 past, the middle still looks the same. You could spin the whole thing at Movie Camera speed and it wouldn’t change the story. The centre is still and quiet and unbothered by Kipling’s imposters. It’s an Absolute. Even the outer bull is pretty flippin certain. Just Be Balanced. That’s what I say to myself as I’m throwing and that’s how long it takes to deliver 3 darts into the heart of Human Consciousness. Balance is critical and without balance you’re all over the place. Just Be Focussed. That’s what I say when my Monkey Mind starts to plan my day and bother me. I’m up very early, so leave me alone. We have all the time in the world so please slow down and breathe in time with the beat. Just Be Beautiful. That always works and often the last dart goes in when that one comes out. Just Be…….ee. Now we’re cooking on gas. When Pooh Bear talks to me, I get very excited. I’ve just been round my room stamping and crying and holding my hands out as if I have very little control over what my body does. I have no control over what my body does and when it is out of control. When it is truly out of control. You will know. Oh My God. Oh My God. Oh My God. I know that’s what you say. I can feel it. That’s what’s gonna come out. I fucking know it. There will be no other choice. Absolutely no other choice. Physically Impossible to say anything else. That’s how close I am Leo. Pretty flippin close. And I know the inflection. Everything comes out in 3’s. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I have screamed those words to the heavens and ended up in my neighbours garden in cool wet grass at 4 O’Clock in the morning looking up at him and knowing he was there but barely conscious of anything other than, that was the most enormous moment of my life. I’m telling you the ending. That’s Card 20 and Card 21. And they’re very close to each other and goodness knows what would happen to you if you’d been lying. I was telling the truth. You won’t like it. I’m not good. I promise you. I will confess later. I’m in a safe place. That’s why I’ve come here. It’s not safe out there. Too much judgement from people who do not know Judgement. I’ve been Judged. I know The World and I’ve come out the other side as the Fool. So allow me to spread my folly and my foolishness and let’s see where it gets me. I want to know what’s in the middle of that little red dot. I imagine another dart board with a little double 20 at the top of the bull and every time I get that image, it goes in but my visualisation is not that good at the moment and I need to focus better. Anything within the treble ring is normal everyday Man Consciousness with all shades of grey approaching the Tai Chi centre. Anything outside the treble ring, is hopeless. Donkey Consciousness or the Consciousness of a Child. Pre 4 or whenever Piaget wakes them up. Welcome to the world sweetheart. It’s horrid isn’t it. You should have stayed where you were. You were natural and beautiful and so close to god it makes me cry. You were spontaneous and honest and you couldn’t lie, could you. You were in the moment at all times. Good, bad or indifferent; that’s where you were, and that’s what we’re aiming for. God pushes them in from the Outer rim and says. Off you go. Nothing can go wrong and if it does, remember wrong is right and listen to Leo. He will guide you home. Once you hit the very centre of the bullseye, you will be back at the outer rim, only this time you will know it’s just a dartboard and this time you will know that there’s nothing to do but play. I’ve managed to make a strange loop out of my dartboard Leo. Fuck.

I don't know what I'm doing here. I'm just trying to leave a comment on his Sameness vs Difference Video. That’s my favourite video. I think that’s the most profound thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Liquid crystal clarity and not a word out of place. You write like George Orwell and that’s why I follow you. Every single word is important and there is not an ounce of fat in 4 and a half hours of utter glory. You’re pretty good mate. If you came to Leo’s door asking him to take the Pepsi challenge, you would walk away knowing the secrets of the universe. And you would know that Pepsi is the Devil. And so is Coke, and so are you, and so am I, and so is God. How can God be the Devil when these 2 things are so diametrically different they make Black and White look like 2 peas in a pod. He’s very confusing isn’t he and yet he’s deeply illuminating and probably the wisest man on this planet.