Izzy is my first openly contributing writer!!! Yay! He is also; the epitomy of wisdom, the fount of knowledge, the quintessential Druid, the center of the universe, most eloquent bard, Walker of all Wise Ways known to Mankind and snails on all planets, Conqueror of all things commercial and overrated, destroyer of stupid people who drive tractors in the middle of the road with no blinkers on and those annoying little blades out to the side so no one can pass without being decapitated, even in a short three-foot Camaro like his, with stinky hog shit all over the tires and old stale hay stuck to the ass end of the tractor and Bubba, the local inbreeding whiz, driving. You know Bubba, the guy with one tooth, one eye, on nostril and about 3/4 a brain. Bubba the halfwitted, halfbrained, 'baccer-dippin', snuff snortin' booze chugging, father-suckin, pork porkin, horse straddlin, wannabe human being.

The IzzyMan once said:

Sometimes the spam cannot be controlled and then it's force must be unleashed or it shall swell and swell until it explodes itself and smears us with its greasy juices and chunks of meat substitute.

Now that is truly profound.

And then he said:

Dammit. I'm cursed. I'm cursed. That's all there is to it. I'm just cursed. When I find out who did this, I'm gonna rip out their hair folicles and shove them between their toes and floss their ears with waxy string from the gut of a yak!

Now there's some good venting of hostility. Don't you think?

I told Izz about my first love mail about this page. I have received lots of hate mail, but finally, someone said they like it. (She lives in Arizona, so she has anamazing amount of time to read... :-) This is Izzy's email response to that info.

And who the hell is sendin' love mail? Love mail sucks. Good stuff is bad. We want the trash, the bumbs, the shitcanned hobos of the world! Dammit, this new world order is gonna be ruled by today's dregs. We're gonna take over. We're gonna have garbage can buffets at week-old chinese restaurants. We're gonna make new laws based on whatever we envision with our whisky drunks. We'll have huge orgies of philosophical proportions lining Main Street, Bible Belt, USA. We'll take all the drop-outs, all the bums, all the losers, all the junkies, all the mad-capped cappuccino high, sugar sucking, existentialist beatnik wannabes and fashion a totally new government that the world has never seen. A government where sappy music is outlawed, and only angst-ridden music will be allowed, along with a fair share of jazz, blues and Baroque. We'll tear down the skyscrapers and erect huge temples to Dionysus. We'll build mighty halls in the heart of the American twilight for dances. We can run through the graybrown Mississippi and infect the heartland with long ranting searches for the bones of Osiris. We will hunt in the woods with Diana for the ecstasy of Isis. Welcome to Izzy's New World Order.

Stained Glass Gods

Now is the time. Now is the hour.
This is the chance to harness the power.

All of life is one big madcap power struggle. Many rage to control everything they can, while the wisest of men strive only to control their own lives.

And here is the power:
The power to understand God as He/She is, beyond the Bible, Q'uran, Vedas, Sutras, Apocryphas. and Koans - transcendant above it all - one in many many in one - Great Mysterious Elohim (creator, sustainer, destroyer, and creator again, and so it goes.) Totally above all, yet in all playing his poker hand (9 aces perfectly dealt.) And winning every bet she ever played.

And here is the power:
The power of each man to contact God/Goddess at the highest point he possibly can - Shaman, Christian, Buddhist, Druid, Roman - all one big happy family at the core of it all - united by one goal:

Divinity

But the great solemn Buddha just sits and has forgotten how to move and live. And the mad crazy Shaman just wanders in his plain of vision and blowguns and arrows of healing and pain - twins of the Great Wheel. Meanwhile, the Druid can't see the gorgeous forest way for getting lost in the paths of trees, and the grand Christian orateor preaching and singing and praying for God, but the roof and the congregation overclouds the great stainedglass spires of joy and holy reachign out. So the power dwindles and dies.

And are they to blame for all this fruitless seeking? Not hardly, for society has put a limit - a glass ceiling - on religion. We must stay within the parameters of convention while being eternally taunted by troubled philosophy and disunited souls - taunted by the vision above the glass ceiling of God with open hands and Her grand angelic consort - host of Shekinah splendor.

Ah, sad women of the glass tower - cry but a pitch louder and we shall shatter the great prison of our minds.

And what of the 90% of the brain we never use? Maybe that's God's domain (conscience is the eye of God in the heart of man - or so Myrddinn says) - waiting for us to break on through.

And so it is now our grand gorgeous chance to rbeak the walls and the barbed wire and conquer the great minefields of gravity and weight and spears and arrow missiles of verses and sayings from old, fat minds of old, fat bearaucrats and hit that 100% mark of total unhesitant gorgeous cherubim life.

GO!!!

Izzy on Sigmund Freud

This recently transpired in an email between the Izzster and I. I was explaining the different facets (tee-hee) of penis-envy to my friend Lori and Izz offered his comments. Read and laugh.

Freud, Freud, Freud.......

Freud once said, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

Izzy said, "Sometimes a cigar is a big brown phallic symbol for the dick you wish you were sucking because you're repressing your homosexual tendencies behind a false mask of pretentious arrogance that you call religion and follow because you don't have the guts to think for yourself and take accountability for your own actions so you hide behind the "It's God's will" b.s. or "It's the work of the devil." b.s. And you suck a cigar instead of a dick so you won't be thought of as 'strange' or 'weird' or a freak, while the history of the world is overflowing with famous freaks who did very good, very valuable things for humanity and our Mother Earth."

At this point Izzy pauses and pants and bows while Lori and I cyber-applaud.

And penis envy is a crock, too. It's an idea for the male-dominant theory. If women are envious of men for any reason (and sex is an admittedly strong factor in both male and female psyches.) then they must be inferior. So, instead of using intelligence or speech or some other androgynous factor, Freud chose the penis. Only men have a penis (Duh, Izzy.) so women therefore must be envious of men for their gender, and thusly inferior. Whereas, if it was, say.... their intelligence level, well.... there are still stupid men out there.

Like Sigmund Freud.

Izzy Gets Philosophical

I looked in a mirror today and saw something rather profound. There I was, staring back at myself with gray green eyes, caught somewhere between sadness and ecstasy. Then I realized... we are all bound for ecstasy. We are all headed for the top of the mountain where no one lives but peace and beauty, and all the stuff in between is just filler to make the road a bit more interesting. All our problems, all our obstacles, are just measurements which we use to see just how much we grow. Every time we fall out of a tree, it is only to see that another path has opened up, and that a great silvery-gold spring waits just down that path. And so often we get lost in the branches, or down other paths, but what we must realize is that there are many paths to many futures, and even if we take one that we see is wrong, there is always another path connecting us to the right one. There is always a bridge of light.

Always.

And our main problem today is that we see the path that we are on now, adn we don't open our eyes enough to see the other choices available. We get lost on some idea of predestination, and forget that humans were created with the faculty of free will. When life throws us shit, just make fertilizer out of it and watch the roses grow. Even then we will occasionally be pricked by the thorn on the bush, but only to spread a little blood, a little life, around. And the wound heals, we have another scar, another lesson, and another grain of wisdom to pass on to others.

So when life comes up and wants to bite you in the ass, just turn around, grab it by the horns, turn its head around and take it in the direction you want to go. And believe me, (I speak from experience) nothing is impossible.

Nothing