The Faux Pas Press #146: Lone Wolf Extraterrestrial

The Faux Pas Press #146:

Lone Wolf Extraterrestrial

By Chambo Fresh

On this planet erroneous versions of history make their way to the front pages. And on this planet we seek the version that suits us best. But sometimes like a Lone Wolf Extraterrestrial, a mad man writes truth from bowels of his consciousness like pulp fiction memoirs, forging ahead of the wolf pack. You could call him the 'one man wolf pack' if the term were not already saturating the funny bones of the Massa Confusa. But the Mad Man writes and he writes songs to dead princes from other realms, he pricks the finger of Blue Gods sitting on high and drips blood into the drip, circulating Ambien-like ooze into the thought network in perfect ones and zeroes - magicians and fools. He paints the world beyond sensory chaos. He writes the words longing to be written and vaults himself through to the other sides. Waking consciousness in all through his work, foreboding the non-fictional section of the local Barnes and Noble. He's busy building towers to beyond. Not like biblical myths of power. Rather he is actually engaged in the ushering in of the dispensation of the fullness of times. Blockading serpentine creatures from the cinema sphere. Lone Wolf Extraterrestrial works for those who can not yet see the end of days.

Color, pigmentation, and context mean very little to the Mad Man. He treats himself to delights of the flesh without being amused, enlightened, or afraid. Songs of forgotten hierarchies vibrate through the base chakra. Chip away at the layers of smelly onion still sitting on the corporation floors, the temple rooms, and family dinner tables. Preachers run in fear of such a man because when he speaks with fury the whole of humanity listens in fear. Today, I feel like such a man and long to be worthy of his companionship as long as he can pay his own rent and receive his due payment, whatever the house owes him. Lone Wolf Extraterrestrial closes down his bar before the others. He has not room for earthy wines that sell high, He sells a product that will make them mad - a crisp, refreshing beverage that ushers the participant into a new age even. The Age of Aquarius maybe. Our brains work if we use medicinals suited for the real dysfunctions. You'll now when you reach the flaming end and find that your husks have shed and you still go on. I have prayed to many deities  - tonight I pray a blessing to the most productive character of them all - Lone Wolf Extraterestrial.