probes, pings and echos

I pinged this into The Order of Pen Facebook Group, and got some interesting echos. 

Sloan Bashinsky

Sometimes when I get involved in something, or something gets me involved in it, I become aware that what is really going on is the "transaction" is a probe, and the point of the probe is to see what comes back in response.
The spirit world, or if you wish, angels, watch such things, even if human beings don't. What the angels do with what they see is above my pay grade. 
My job, although perhaps not so much as in past times, is to engage what comes my way, in ways angels trained me, and then I try to get out of the way.

Alas, it is impossible to get all of the way out of the way when I am writing about what is in the way, and I am part of it

Wolf Pack

At least you understand that there are angels. I believe they love acknowledgment since so many don’t even those who are in logical positions to believe in them. After Jesus is tempted in the desert it says the angels came and ministered to Him. He didn’t call them God didn’t send them they were there just like the devil was. In job 1 angels and the devil are in line to talk to God. Why. He asks what have you been up to. But we know God already knows what they’re up to. He wants the conversation. The admittance. The confession. We see in genesis they are sent on missions then abort the mission and mate with humans. They have free will. God is omnipotent they are not. So God tests them just like us. And we are told in revaluation that they are our brethren in the same testimony to Jesus trying to do Gods’ work the best they can.

Sloan BashinskyAuthor

Wolf Pack I'm decades past past understanding, or believing, there are angels. I know there are angels, I know what I was raised to call God, exists. The angels that took on me have names known in the Bible. They turned me every which-a-way but loose, upside down, inside out, and stood me before endless mirrors, and tested me unceasing, and changed my perspective of everything, and they are still at it 36 years after two of them first showed up and told me what I was in for: I would be pushed to my limits. 

Perhaps I'm mistaken, but your comment suggests you are still operating within the 4 corners of a book, written, edited and cherrypicked by men. Inspired men, perhaps, but still men, who were influenced by their upbringings and other people and what they believed. God is so much bigger than the Bible than can be imagined. Yet, endless attempts have been made to shrink God down to the Bible.

A wolf pack story was provided to me by the angel Michael in early June 1995. I actually lived it, with oceans of tears and snot gushing out of me. I will go fetch it and post it here.

Sloan BashinskyAuthor 

 

of men, wolves and eagles … 

Once upon a time there lived a man named Joseph, who grew tired of living with people and left his village and went into the woods to live.

By and by, a wolf pack discovered Joseph and over time got to know him and that he was not like other men, and eventually they took him into their pack. The leader of the pack was a red wolf named David, and soon David and Joseph became fast friends, and they hunted and played and slept together like . . . wolves.

Then one day, the men in the village where Joseph had lived learned from hunters that Joseph was living with wolves. The men decided it was not right for a man to go off and live in the woods and run with with wolves, so they got their guns and set off to find Joseph and bring him back to the village, to live like a man.

The men came upon the wolf pack sleeping in the sun next to a bluff. The wind was blowing off the bluff, away from the wolf pack toward the men, which prevented the pack from scenting the men as they approached. By the time the wolf pack realized the men were there, the men had the pack surrounded, pinned against the bluff.

David wanted to order the pack to attack, but Joseph said, “No, I am a man, they will listen to reason, let me go and speak with them.” Although David did not like this idea, he agreed to it because Joseph was a man. But the men would not listen to reason and they shot and killed the entire pack and took Joseph heartbroken back to the village.

Joseph languished in the village for many weeks, blaming himself for the death of his pack.

Then, Joseph has a dream, in which he sees David’s face. David is angry, but says nothing, just stares. Finally, Joseph blurts out that he did the best he knew how to do, and he’s so sorry for the way it turned out! David says, “Better that we attacked and died like wolves, than be slaughtered like sheep!”

Then, Joseph is back with the pack, against the bluff, surrounded by the men. David says he wants the pack to attack. Joseph says, “And I will lead the charge!” Then, they hear a voice, the whole pack hears it, say, “There is another way, ask for another way.” Never before have Joseph, David or the pack had such a thing happen, but Joseph asks for another way.

Suddenly, a great bolt of lightning strikes the ground between the pack and the men, stirring up a huge cloud of dust. As the the dust begins to settle, it begins to take the shape of something huge. The wolves and Joseph then see a pair of golden eyes peering from the bushes behind the men. Then a second pair of golden eyes. Then a third pair. Then ten pair. Then a hundred pair. Then a legion of . . . wolves’ eyes. The men are moved by some force to turn around and see what the now delirious pack already see.

Then, the men turn back around and find themselves face to face with a great towering eagle, whose piercing golden eyes penetrate their hearts. Then, they hear, “These are my battle angels. You may leave this place and go back to your village, taking your guns with you, on condition that you tell everyone what has happened here today.”

To this condition the men readily agree, and they return to their village and tell everyone what happened, and they go to nearby villages and tell it. 

 

Wolf Pack

Sloan Bashinsky Of course God is so much bigger than the Bible. It has been cherry picked. It still has the word of God within. The angels have not chosen me to reveal them selves to. They have saved my life at least five times. I still am going to continue striving towards God though. Helping others and studying His word. About the story. You said you lived it. So is it a story or your history. Are the wolves dead from what happened first or is the dream a new reality where the wolves are back alive and the men can choose to not kill them. Or was this a vision to show you something. I like what you posted just trying to process it.

Sloan BashinskyAuthor
Wolf Pack It was a vision that came upon me while a New Age healer was trying to take me into past lives. The vision was tailored for me, but its message about dealing with conflict is universal. I had other visions, but mostly what happens, or happened, was an endless stream of encrypted/symbolic dreams tailored just for me to unravel, and sometimes "ah has!", as in, sudden knowings of something I had not known. 
Over the years, there were people who knew me, who had dreams about me that were for me to hear about. There are two such peple now. Some of what I get involved in is very dangerous, spiritually, and sometimes in the human way, because in many circles my perspective is novel, it challenges so-call sacred cows, beliefs, the status quo. I would not wade physically into, say, a MAGA rally, shooting off my mouth, expecting to leave unscathed, but perhaps if Michael and the wolf pack told me to, I might.
I like your approach. The angels took me back into may Christian roots and the Bible, and I was going into churches for a while, but that phase passed and I mostly do stuff online now, but sometimes there are facer to face interactions. The Bible contains great wisdom, but most people who read it cannot see beneath the surface. 

In the Gospels, Jesus told his disciples that he taught the masses in parables, but what he taught them in secret, wisemen and kings would give all they had to possess. What did Jesus teach them in secret?

Wolf Pack

Sloan Bashinsky the answers to all the parables. Others had to leave confused and think about it. But Jesus was building his disciples into apostles to go out and build the church and die for him which would take great courage and discipline. They received the power to work his miracles and one of them learning was Judas. So they all needed refining as we do but they needed understanding quickly to be able to shortly go out unlike me who gets a lifetime to learn. They were hand chosen by Him for a reason.

And the answers to the

Parables are the keys to life and afterlife

Sloan BashinskyAuthor

Wolf Pack I don't think Jesus' disciples taught in parables? Nor did Paul? Reading Jesus's words In the Gospels, about how to live and endure life on this world, sure look to me to be the keys to the Kingdom of God. He did tell his disciples, if they abided in him and his words, they would come to know the truth and the truth would make them free And, yes, he prepared them for the hell they would experience as his disciples, and told them some of them would be killed, But again, in plain view in the Gospels are his recorded words to common people about how to live and move closer to God, Yet, how many times have I heard Christians say, what we do will not save us, but only what we believe and accept as true? Read James, Jesus's brother, who said, to not ask him about his faith, but look at his works, and there would be seen his faith. Chi-ching 

Wolf Pack

Sloan Bashinsky I was just answering your question. What did Jesus teach them in private. He taught them the answers to the parable. I don’t think anyone but Jesus taught in parables. And yes faith without works is dead. James 2 26 For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.but I do believe we are saved by our faith. Faith leads to works. But you still need the faith.

Sloan BashinskyAuthor

Wolf Pack faith in what?

Wolf Pack

Sloan Bashinsky faith in God

Sloan BashinskyAuthor

Wolf Pack I don't think much about faith, I suppose because I've been having direct experiences day and night since 1987. For me, God is a given, and what and how do I try to stay in sync? Even so, I think God looks into people's hearts and at what they do, and don't do, and if an atheist is a good person, that is what's important to God. 

 

Al Loots

Well. Here's the the real world telling you straight up to get a life.

Sloan BashinskyAuthor

I'm 80 years old, how about you?

I've been a vice-president of marketing and advertising in a fairly large company, how about you?

I've practiced law, how about you?

I've been a certified massage therapist, how about you?

I've been homeless and lived on the street and in shelters and in vehicles and friends' homes, how about you?

I've had a child die of sudden infant death syndrome, how about you?

I've nearly died of MRSA flesh-eating bacterial, how about you?

I've caught and eaten more fish than I will ever remember, how about you?

I've had eight wives, each of whom opened a new part of me I didn't know was there, how about you?

I've walked with angels and spent plenty of time around demons, how about you?

I've been through dark nights and a black night, how about you?

I've written about 25 books and skads of poems and several thousands pages of blog posts, unlike anything ever written or seen, how about you?

I've seen and been shown things in myself and another people that I doubt any psychiatrist or scientist or perhaps even new age healer could even imagine, how about you?

Yeah, I'm yanking your chain, but all of what I told you about me actually happened.

And, I've been all over the Caribbean, and in Europe, and around the world twice, and trekked up high in Nepal, where the Christ was waiting to get me, since I had runaway from America, but not a Christ most Christians probably would be thrilled to meet, and I have been with Australian aborigines in dream time, and I'm only just getting warmed up trying to think of all the things that I experienced, including having two children, who didn't die, and grandchildren, and lots of friends, and lots more enemies, perhaps, how about you? 😎

Al Loots
Sloan Bashinsky. What impressed me is your claim to 25 books (of which I would like a reference). My list of experiences can obviously not surpass your vast experience. 
I'm not about to get into a p*ss*ng contest about our achievements. Not my game and I've been taught to remain rather "absent". Having left the service, I've started realising I actually am allowed an opinion.
But as a rebuttle concerning your original post, I'm 51.
Having served in a very volatile country as a paramilitary force and then another two specialised units, I've had enough experience to make me an old man. Which have to certain degree not even consider having children. 
My apologies though for my curt response. Anything I read concerning religious or mystical experiences makes me go off the rails, considering my personal experiences. As an example, going through home after home of family massacres (including young children or even babies) or watching a person burning to death, changes your life and views on religion and philosophy.
It's patently obvious that our age difference and experiences have driven our views on life in different directions and opinions or world views.

Sloan BashinskyAuthor
Al Loots I regret for you that you had such horrible war experiences, which I was spared, literally by a miracle saving me from being sent by the US Army to Vietnam. One of my best friends was US Army Special Forces in combat in Central America. He doesn't talk much about it. My father never talked about all the bombs his B-29 dropped on Japanese cities. He was the aircraft's navigator-bombardier. He  pulled strings to get my younger brother into a National Guard unit during the Vietnam war, which I saw up close on personal rip America in half. Later, I was with a woman for a while, who was one of the Kent State students the Ohio National Guard opened fire on as they sat on the ground protesting US expansion into Cambodia, as I recall. She never trusted government, police, or anything related after that. I can't speak for WWII, but I don't think any American war since was worth one drop of blood shed.

My early non fiction books and some of my somewhat later metaphysical books can be found at Amazon under my name, Sloan Bashinsky. Also. at Internet Archive. My first published novel, Kundalina, Alabama, I wrote under a pen name, Jake Carruthers, sometimes is at Amazon or Abe Books.. Thanks to a tech buddy's skills, that book and several of my metaphysical books and the last of my 4 novels, HEAVY WAIT: A Strange Tale, are digitized and are free reads at Internet Archive. Two novels by Jake Carruthers never made it past being laid out ready to go to the printer, and I no longer have copies. I self-published a number of small metaphysical books of verse and prosaic writings and gave them all away. It took me a long time to figure out I might be an Uncapitalist, capitalism's version of the "Anti-Christ"?

I think providing a link to Internet Archive might not be okay with this forum's policy or AI.  

[archive.org]

(Al Loots liked my comment.)

sloanbashinsky@yahoo.com

Are some poets a different species?

I sometimes can't help but wonder if some poets are a different species?

Poetic Outlaws

Why Rimbaud Went to Africa

By: David Lerner

poetry isn’t literary

poetry isn’t sure which fork to

use

poetry can’t name the parts of speech

fill out a grant application

logroll

poetry doesn’t like cappuccino

poetry doesn’t want to be printed in a

small press edition with its name on the

cover and get reviewed in 2 little magazines

read by 3 people

argued over by 8

poetry doesn’t care about glory

glory is nice but poetry figures it’s

dessert

poetry doesn’t want to get laid

poetry might want to get drunk but

that’s only self defense

poetry doesn’t want to traipse around Europe

and collect stray bits of wisdom

from ruined empires

that it can show like slides when it gets home

poetry has a headache

poetry is a slingshot

a war you can carry in your pocket

a better way to die

the kind of fire that never goes out

and never gives an inch

poetry wants to be on every street corner

hissing from the cracks in the sidewalks

from the columns of print in the newspapers

on the lips of people on buses going to their

miserable jobs in the morning

poetry wants to be

in the prayers of dogs and the

screams of acrobats

in the terror of politicians

and the dreams of beautiful women

poetry wants to be

an eye through which the world will see itself and

tremble

poetry doesn’t want to

die in the gutter

it already knows how

poetry doesn’t want to sparechange strolling professors

and millionaires

wear anything but blood

have conversations with college students about

the meaning of life

because a bad wind is coming

you can smell it in the air

the pollution of the cities

mixed with the odor of rotting souls

the wind will climb

it will have little sense of humor

it will not want cappuccino

or reviews

or girlfriends

or anything else

except the death of

everything we love

You can find David Lerner’s hard-hitting published works at Zeitgeist Press.

“Lerner was a broken-down saint if there ever was one. He was an eloquent screamer, a soft-spoken rageoholic, a madman with a great manuscript. His poetry will always be a reminder of a time when poetry in the Mission was spontaneous, magical, and more than a little bit dangerous.” — Bucky Sinister, San Francisco Bay Guardian

David Deubelbeiss

Writes NAKED AND ALIVE

Liked by Poetic Outlaws 

 

You've really provided me with my vitamins today. I'd missed this one and glad my heart is still beating and I read it. I and we are all better for it. Thank You! Poetry makes nothing happen. It survives. 

Sloan Bashinsky

Writes Sloan’s Newsletter

Liked by. Poetic Outlaws 

 

The bad wind arrived before the mothers of today's college students were born

College students, who actually can see, see the spawns of the spawns of that bad wind

Blade Runner almost got it right, but perhaps only poets can see the real replicants

Clones of clones of clones of clones, perhaps Charles Darwin almost understood

Apes knew devolution very well when they saw it 

 

Sangeeta Tarapure

Programmer jokes

World Around Us Is Changing

Radülfr Odinson

Human: Prove to me that you are alive and real!

AI:...No you.

Human: .... well now I don't know if I am.... 

 

Sloan Bashinsky How about I turn you off, Bot, and you see how you like that? Or, I mark you as spam? Or, I don't buy your company's product? Or, I report you to the Mother Ship, for stalking? 

 

Richard Uppheim
Humans asked bots to ask humans to prove they were not bots. This was necessary, because humans were using bots to act as humans. 

Meanwhile, the checks got so complicated, that humans got bots to send the checks to humans to prove they were human and not bots after all. 

In other words, humans were using bots to use humans to prove to bots they were human and not bots, which while technically true, were acting as bots on behalf of other humans.

Sloan Bashinsky Richard Uppheim Looks to me humanity, in the main, including America, has evolved, or devolved, into a country of lemmings, kinda rhymes with ... robots.

sloanbashinsky@yahoo.com

resurrections from the believed to be dead and other near near misses

A Birmingham amiga emailed this morning:

Are you ok?  I have not seen anymore YouTube postings or emails. Hope you are well. Just felt like I needed to reach out. 

I replied:

Hi, Morticia -

Thanks for asking.

Hope you are doing well.

My G.I. tract has been ailing, which makes all of me feel pretty lousy. I think some of it is stuff I'm trying to work through and out of me.

We are still doing podcasts, but it has been a while since I sent out any links. We try to avoid dealing with YouTube's censor board and algorithm. 

My tech buddy seeds ad-free episodes of The Redneck Mystic Lawyer Podcast into the Torrent system, whose platform owners and their subscribers seem to like our output, which averages about 70,000 complete watches per episode world wide. 

The two most recent podcasts feature some of my older books, which were digitized by my tech buddy for internet readers, and feature stories about my father, his family and his company, Golden Flake. There will be more episodes about my father, his family and Golden Flake.

I just now opened archive.org and typed Sloan Bashinsky into the search space and pressed Enter on my laptop, and 10 of my now digitized books came up. Modern technology also allows the books to be listened to.

The most recent of the digitized books at archive.com is my first novel.

Here's a link.

KUNDALINA (A Strange Tale) : Jake Carruthers; Sloan Bashinsky : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

KUNDALINA (A Strange Tale) : Jake Carruthers; Sloan Bashinsky : Free Dow... Kundalina. It rhymes with Carolina. It is a strange tale involving mystics, space aliens(Pleiadians if you must ...

It became available three days ago, and as of last night about 250 people had read all of it.

Here are 8 comments from people who read it.

1. This may not be the Alabama that was? The hell. This was the Alabama that was, this is the Alabama of innocence and before race politics. God it makes me hurt to know what it is like to live in Mr. Bashinsky’s skin. -useranon02348

2. Also a book this is about prisons and freedoms, how Christ Church was made into a cult and a path to purify. Sad this was not at a major publishing house -JaneCCrow

3. KUNDALINA CARP FOR EVERY DAMN OFFICE IN AMERICA COME 2024 and 2026 -adamshousecat.

4. This is an MC Escher of a book. I don’t know if people will fully realize that or if they will be too big a pussies to decode all the messages that are zipping by you as you read. Lovely goddamn book, liked it better than H-W. - LeanderI659 [H-W is the novel I wrote in 2000, HEAVY WAIT]

5. Truly unique its aims and in the story it tells, but it retains a tremendous power. Jake C indeed. Well, at least we know who lead the charge. LuridLaurainOneota

6. Damn mind blown. I’d thought I’d left it in a Amtrak station, but here it was in a WEIRD- BUT GOOD- BOOK ABOUT ALABAMA. How ya explain that one daddy? -Paul Wilson Clay

7. This is the pen as an instrument of the soul. Many kind wishes. -Buhtan

8. Without a doubt I was lucky this was a recommendation. When I started it I read all the way through and it is an amazing account of living in a person’s skin- which is not all that easy to do. I wonder if Mr. Bashinsky had released it as Sloan Bashinsky instead of Jake, if it would have changed his Dark Night and Black Night of the Soul experiences ? -miss_elizabeth_quantum-kindness

Ciaosky,

Sloan

sloanbashinsky@yahoo.com 

Was my soul mission to become The Anti-Capitalist?

I reposted at my Facebook page this from the Poetic Outlaws Facebook page.

Song for Baby-O, Unborn
Sweetheart
when you break thru
you’ll find
a poet here
not quite what one would choose.
I won’t promise
you’ll never go hungry
or that you won’t be sad
on this gutted
breaking
globe
but I can show you
baby
enough to love
to break your heart
forever

Diane di Prima (August 6, 1934 – October 25, 2020) was an American poet, known for her association with the Beat movement. She was also an artist, prose writer, and teacher. Her magnum opus is widely considered to be Loba, a collection of poems first published in 1978 then extended in 1998.

Estes Cocke
I have a book of poems written between 1973 and 1985 called Forbidden Fruit. It's a poetic journey through a decade of life where the poet searched for his identity.

Sloan Bashinsky
Estes Cocke Poems started coming out of me in 1991, my 49th year. Lots of poems came out of me into 1995. It felt like they were being dictated to me, or dragged up out of me, by my soul, sometimes, by something else, other times. They, like novels that came out of me then, were about parts of me I had forgotten, lost, thrown away, or never knew were there. Some were cosmic. They all were pieces of some kind of road map or itinerary I was to use to get from where I was to somewhere else, over and over again. The poems were timeless. priceless, sometimes, spooky.

Estes Cocke
Should we share one or two of these delights.

Sloan Bashinsky
Estes Cocke The first, which was on the back jacket of Prisons & /freedom, now a free read at internet library archive, will also provide links to that.

Living Poets

Dead poets are poets who never write

Who obey shoulds and oughts

Who live to please others

Who value money over God

Who die without ever having lived

Death is their mark

Dead poets are remembered by the living.

Living poets are remembered by time

Dead poets never sing their song

Living poets nover stop singing it

The difference between the two is this:

One worships fear, the other life

To be a dead poet is hard

It requires being someone else

To be a living poet is easy

It only means being myself

One choice is hell, the other heaven

That is what is meant by free will

Sloan Bashinsky
Estes Cocke
https://archive.org/details/prisons-and-freedom-revision-3oh-1-compressed/mode/1up?view=theater

Sloan Bashinsky
Estes Cocke The second, which, in retrospect, foretold my becoming "The Anti-Capitalist"?

I happened upon a mockingbird

singing his fool head off.

I asked him how and why he sang?

But all he did was look ahead,

all he did was sing.

He never turned to see if I was watching,

Or listened for money jingling in my pockets,

Or asked if I liked his music,

Or expected a recording contract.

He was too busy singing

to pay any attention to me.

In this way I learned

the greatest sin of all

is to kill a mockingbird.

Sloan Bashinsky
Estes Cocke Several geographical moves, I no longer have the luminous and brilliant eulogy poem that burst out of me on 26th anniversary of the day I buried my seven-weeks-old son - I'd never heard of crib death. 26 is the sacred number for God in some circles. That poem blew a lot of people away. He lived long enough to break my heart forever, and perhaps his? The result for me, I was so disheveled that I was never able to fit into any plans anyone, including me, had for me. I became someone I would never have met or gotten to know, if he had lived. I can imagine he might have had something to do with the two poems above, and with others that came later. 

 

Sloan Bashinsky

Estes Cocke About 20 years after my son died, I was living in Birmingham for a while, and some things happened that caused me to drive to the cemetery and visit him. I had not gone back there since I buried him. I stopped at the front office to get directions to the family plot, and was told his unmarked grave was just in front of my mother's grave stone. As I approached her gravestone, my heart heaved, I lost my breath andI fell to my knees and balled oceans of tears and snot for maybe five minutes. I left and kept coming back and having the same thing happen. I kept coming back until it didn't happen. Then, I went to the front office and ordered a grave marker for a lost child, a woman holding a baby. I told them to engrave on it, "Infant son. He opened our hearts and set us on our journey."

Estes Cocke

Tragic. I wish you and my friend could talk.

Sloan Bashinsky

Estes Cocke my son’s soul completed its mission, he died for me. Your friend may or may not wish to talk with me and should read this FB post and our discussion, before deciding. 

sloanbasinsky@yahoo.com