a little jaunt...

stealing past shamanic adolescence under shadows of Wardenclyffe Tower

          We stole down the first street, past the tilled lollipop-ped cul-de-sac stretch of county road 17. This was where the east side neighborhoods began; a series of working class and remnant middle class close proximities, small yards and things tucked away out of sight in the back. We had wanted to procure some money to get high but none of us felt like breaking and entering into these people’s homes. They lived close to the hand to mouth life, we lived. Maybe Eddie still wanted to steal into these trap laden chances, he liked the thrill of stealing while you slept. 

      He was quiet tonight with a parted smile and half a smirk, he was telling us he may have already gotten high. Off the county road, we walked down this tomb quiet street, past its little row houses, where every single one was a bit different but more the same. Someone mentioned Tesla and Eddie started paying attention, running his finger through a chain link fence like a baseball card on a bike. This fencing was hemming the cemetery in, across the street from the front line homes of this neighborhood,  “What do you know of the great forgotten man“, he chimed in, not realizing we were speaking of Eighties metal bands. We looked in each other’s direction under an abandonment of street lights, we were simple silhouettes using flicker shape geometry as a way to say huh? None of us wanted to encourage Eddie to talk further about something that was a long tangent for him. We knew he read too much, too early to understand that some things are better left not understood…but he knew the things that paused us all. He knew how to catch up and surpass any of our thread spooled feelings, we chose God and other smooth river stones, he always dared to look into infinity’s eyes. He liked to get high as a way to play in his mind. To play the way we all used to play when we strung coffee cans and piano wire across ravines while scouting sabotage with our shaved match heads inside the dared squeeze crimp of metal piping, we had fashioned into these bright percussive flares.

      When he got high, his smile was more divine. It seemed he went to a place where nightmares were born and dreams were caught between amniotic water and placentas. Dust bunnies, spoke to him, he once said, in a whirl of radiator and forced air driven duct words. “Each of us have our own story, you know”, he said, “with sounds that say, someone pay attention, I thirst to be wireless, here”.

             Eddie walked as if he were on a tight rope on the curb and jumped into an amble closer to us. “So what of the great man”, he says again. I said, “we were just talking about the band Eddie, comparing Anthrax to Tesla, Eddie”, “what great man are you talkin’ about?”. And right then, I knew I had opened a can that I didn’t necessarily want to see the inside of. “This man stood up to giants, this man would rather die obscured by the manipulated time of modernity, than heel to its patriarchal cycles of dominion”, he says. With his hands, he started to wave in some alchemical-like conducting of the air around him. “Have you ever read or listened to the lyrics on Tesla’s first couple of albums?”, Eddie asks. None of us had and we realized that despite a love of jazz and funk, Eddie had been paying attention when we threshed ourselves in metal guitar frenzies. “What did they say, Eddie?”, we asked, hoping to find a nugget of cool in Eddie’s deliberately paced long winded explanation, we knew was soon to be coming.

        “Well then, let me tell you”, he says, and with that he began to tell us about the steel magnates and the bankers who pitted Edison against Tesla. He went into detail about wireless electrical generation and free power. He told us of what Tesla had wanted to do, how he went against the profiteering of the aforementioned, barons of business. He told us, how this began Tesla’s descent into obscurity. Everyone knew Edison, and things he brightened us up with, but few knew how much humanity he sold into slavery, by rigging the game. Tesla wanted to release the power for free, to raise our consciousness to a level beyond our base glands. He thought, that in our dimensions of elements and curvatures of time, that electricity could be generated by matching observations to certain oscillations. All we had to do was do what the ancients did, when they moved great pieces of stone to memorialize pulse points between long counts and short waves.

     

        “Do you know what the Pineal Gland in the center of our brain is for?”, Eddie asks. “Most modern scientists will say it regulates and produces melatonin”, he says, “but that is a lie”. He goes on to say that while true about melatonin, the Pineal also seems to allow for higher states of consciousness to be attained through frequency manipulation. I remember thinking head bobbing for hours stoned gave us a headache. Perhaps we didn’t smoke enough to the cultivate resonances of a dissonance filled world.

    “Have you ever heard of the ascended masters, the therianthropes?”, Eddie asks. None of us knew so we just shook our heads, “they are part animal/part human, divine entities, and they seem to have been here for a long time”. He went on to say that the Egyptians revered them, called them gods. When we began to herd civilization into large gathers, the corrals of control mechanisms made us forgot them. Tesla understood they gave us gifts to realize human incarnate potential instead of profit. He also understood the Faustian bargain he agreed to with J. P. Morgan would only lead him into ruin. He had realized, in dreams before coming to the United States, that information, like boundless free energy, could not be contained for eternity.

  

            “Eventually, we all reach a tipping point", Eddie says, sitting on the curb near one of the side entrances of the cemetery. "There are those great pines and old tilted stones on the other side of the fence and arched gateway", Eddie says. "Do you want to go inside and get stoned, do we want to reach through to the core of each our versions of the grand immaculate deception?", he says. He shows us some purple kush and salvia. Tells us he has another Tesla story to tell.

EJR ©