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Re: BACK IN THE SADDLE – No More Creek - No More Paddle
— by Bel Suave Bel Suave
Aye then Admiral - you'll not be finding resistance to the idea of revisiting "Duende -This Happy Sadness - Ten Years After"(with apologies to Alvin Lee and the rest of the group!)from these quarters.  

Course charted, compass set! But be patient... I feel a monster wave of a post brewing neath this slumbering sombrero. Our discourse of late has allowed me to move through the various stages of letting go the line... those who failed to make it aboard before now are adrift from this vessel at last. All that ballast cut away, she's acuttin with a new sprightliness already.

Yes - I believe you to have caught the spirit of the thing entirely! The entire world of the "unseen" is riddled with "comedic" elements ... which reach out to those pre-disposed to a light-hearted approach to life(as in not heavily burdened by accretions of "sinfulness")with complete pleasure in finding both an audience for their innate 'trickster-ness" and a person eager and capable of absorbing the great lessons which they will offer freely to any who they find worthy.

The three jpegs attached to my previous were supposed to be inline so as to be read in the text itself - that did not happen, at least in what I'm seeing at this end, so my reference to the "mischievous comity" with which Duende extends its invitation to meet on equal ground may have been missed - 
"Duende is all that is hidden from the naked eye, fully formed yet absent until invoked by an intent mysterious even to they who invoke it. Duende sees without being seen, comes without being called, but appears only when a person or persons make the necessary accommodation to its’ spirit of mischievous comity. Some confuse it with presence of death, but it is not, nor the absence of death. Duende seeks the company of those for whom paradox illuminates rather than confounds. But to illuminate in the sense not to cast light upon, but rather, to etch boldly the indistinct, the shadow with which light plays games of hide and seek"

Fear abandoned for the quenchless curiosity of he/she who Lives for those games of deadly serious acceptance of all that the really real pushes them towards, we are poised like arrows able to 'penetrate' thru kabbalisms' chain mail of lies, mow down its Golemized lurkers, turn back the tide of talmudic terror, if only for a poems' length of time. 

Your graciousness in choosing not to quibble over my unwillingness to grant not more than provisional status of authenticity to any of my interlocutors is noted and allows me to pr

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On July 26, 2018 10:57 AM, Catalysm [via Geopolitics Behind the Mask] <[hidden email]> wrote:

I'm very much looking forward to your upcoming disquisition on Duende. I think I have already a foothold on this topic as I have gone back and looked at a couple of poems I had written which incorporate these phenomena. Curiously, there is a comical element to these spectres which, were it not for the total bizarreness and unexpectedness of their intrusions into an otherwise stable but increasingly rickety reality, would cause one to laugh rather than feel immediately threatened. They insert themselves so cleanly into the scene that light-heartedness would seem to be impossible due to immediately mistaking them for reality. Nevertheless, laughing at them would probably cause them to go for their heavy artillery. After reading your "Danger, Will Robertson, Danger!" ("what's actually 'happening' back there in the fallen lands is waaay more 'scary' than you imagine...") warning, I was awakened the following night by my bed being shaken and the sound of loud crashing. I immediately thought of Padre Pio in his tower, where even the locals could hear late at night the commotion of pots and pans being thrown at the walls and dishes being smashed. Pio himself would emerge the following day with cuts and bruises or a cracked rib or two.

I should also mention that these spectres seem to favour certain localities that seem to be infested with them such as a quarter called 'La Visitation' in the city where I reside. They also show up in certain old houses in New England. A pastor that I knew lived in one of these where these phenomena occurred that I subsequently occupied. He told me that his family was forced to move out due to his young daughter's constant nightmares. For want of a better term, I call these areas "energy vortices." This was a 200 year old house.

You are right on the money concerning the danger of living in these western lands. Indeed, increased awareness could easily lead to one being placed on 'kill lists'--not for having done anything wrong, mind you! This is just another layer of the phenomenon, but significantly impacts one's conduct of everyday life, kind of like slogging through deep mud each and every day. Needless to say, one is completely on his own in this situation with no outside help or support even from friends and family--this is an express and integral part of the equation. So for those who are cowards, I heartily recommend believing and embracing the narrative that you are fed, which will protect you, at least physically and in terms of peace of mind, until your horizon stops receding before you. But, of course, you already consciously embrace that approach to life!

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