The Faux Pas Press #80
19 March 2011
By Jason Fresh
ECSTASY
The long, dark night is a gift. For when straggle-toothed gorilla woman or a rank pimp rascal come crawling around the furniture of your mind, you’ve got to get raw and unedited. The life without these foes is a life of equilibrium, a continual communion with ecstasy. But in this state, away from foe, life is soft with no purpose. The Primal Man was never concerned with cuddling his life; the Wise will spend hours practicing his craft. And I meditate in the wake of military strike, I meditate in the wake of destruction without end, and I with Parley Angerbliss rise above the ocean on the back of Quetzalcoatl. Old Mormon Family withers in the sorry it has created. You laugh at their attempts to destroy your bliss. And you walk confidently to the heart of victory. And you can say, “I have loved my neighbor as myself. I have loved my enemy also.” What ecstasy is there in denying the Self? What bliss is there in the journey through the dark cults of conformity? Only in destroying the quickly fading enemy of altruism is there any bliss. So, don’t be fooled by it even if you pretend to conform.
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