Excerpts From the Note Books & Journals
Intro to Mystic Carpet Flight School
The notebooks have been either copied with permission, stolen or lifted off of the dead body of the writer. Talula Bankhead's close friend has a lending library in Tangier. People often sell their journals there when they run out of money.
The police often have sales
of confiscated goods that are found in the possession of thieves, etc. The
extreme secrecy of the carpetaro offers them no
Selected Journals of recent members of Transcosmic Escadrille:
The brain is a matrix of electro-chemical holograms. All space is filled with a huge matrix of electromagnetic potentials of differing frequencies and ampltudes. The mind/brain can tune in and surf the Universe electric.
It was set up so that Steve, Nick, Steve, Tony and Jo came in from Tetuan where they had the whole medina lit up with ectoplasm. The locals were starting to freak. Steve was their ring leader. I figured it would be good for the whole world if they went to the next levels together. Steve is the only person I have ever met that could learn to break the mind barrier as fast and ferrociously as he did. He left a con trail of sperm across the sky that turned the sunrise red. He generated amulets that seemed to work to increase the potency of dope.
This guy was origeonally called “Mad Man”. In Tangier he simply became American Nick. His specialty was scarry stuff – ides md inventions that caused lots of trouble. Needless to say there are old carpet flyers and bold carpet flyers. Nick did not have a chance to make it out alive – but then no one does. His poetry was as good as his painting was bad. He has no sense of rythem and could not carry a tune. He was a deeply wounded duck coming from a N. Dakota Oki background but his effort and complete lack of concern for his personal safety made his attemps to fly and constant hangovers amusing to watch. Grand Master Hans co-opted him into the occult manifestations of cybernetic art and the Da Vinci Operation. He was mase a Grand Dragon of the Order of Da Vinch and awarded a crystal carpet.
I am still trying to track down more of his work. He was a really good poet. So good in fact he was not interested in the carpet as much as he was interested in mystacysm of words.
Thisson-of –bitch was crazy. He fell off into a mailstorm of cybernetic poetry and ended up summoning deamons that we he never seen before. He has a major influence on the artwork of Nick.
Never did fly but did make it out of the casbah alive.AnnNever did fly but did make it out of the casbah alive.BootsieNever did fly but did make it out of the casbah alive.
Spider was not only the King of San Michel in Paris and King of the Beatnicks in Tangiers, he was and will always be the SexBeast of the SocoChico. Actually he was the SexBeast of all Africa. He took the development of chi from sexual ching to its absolute maximum. When he would walk by dogs would start fucking each other. Once a women found out what would happen to her if he got his way with her, she would actually start to pant in antcipation.
A very wealthy your man that came to Tangiers for all of the wrong reasons and finally left just in time to save himself. He did finally become real and actually got a carpet off the ground without killing himself.He adventures are fully described in Don's “Tangieranian Nightmare”
Don was too complex, manifold and strange to summarize. I'll let him try to tell his own story. A hero flyer – burned majoun like a battle ship.
His eyes turned inside out on a mixture of acid and high grade majoun.JackA drifter who fell through town. Somehow got connected and has produced a significant body of 3D cybernetic art. We think def and dumb Hassan slopped his hog with golden Pearl of Insight majoune.
Rich dashing American/Euro trash boy that ws confused by an overload of 50 movie point of view. Stunningly became a squadron leader and the most rich and dashing of the existentialist carpet brigade. Always lived well and served good wing and alchemy.
Last spoken words of Big Daddy Max before he took an oath of silence so that he could focus on living for kicks.
This is an example of a complex dragon teapot session.
What can you learn from it?
Do you want to know more?
Just ask Big Daddy Max
Klick on the link below to talk with BigDaddyMax's Chatterbot
Selected Journals: I either lifted the journals off of the dead body of the writer, asked permission to copy them or stole them. Actually Tallulah Bankhead's close friend has a lending library in Tangier. People often sell their journals there when they run out of money. The police often have sales of confiscated goods that are found in the possession of thieves, etc.
Big Daddy Max (Mine) “How I Ate My Brain”
Don's “Tangeranian Nightmare”
This is what the box containing Hans's Journals looked like when found. Not that the cash is missing Hans' bone flute.
The Casbahs of Morocco are not Arab cities but rather the remains of ancient proto-Rome/proto-Carthage events where Arabic speaking people dwell.
Living by candle light, the daemons of electricity shrink and go away while the daemons of an ancient here and now grow until there is no difference between now/now and now/three thousand years ago.
These ancient dwelling places have no beginning and no end. They are like you and I – very none linear
As you go from noon to midnight, different daemons inhabit your experience of space and time, and if you stay up late enough you can experience yourself as you are three thousand years ago
But how is this you say – I m here and now – but in fact you are all of your yesterwhen and future be all at once – with now an infinitesimal instant that is so short it essentially may not exist
For example, when you are stoned, you become transformed into a stonedness that pervades all of your normalness with something which is the same for all men of all time everywhere
And when you are not stoned, your are pervaded with this normal-ness that is the same for all man
This normalness is the essence of self – a faceless – shapeless self that is traveling through the Universe that can be experienced so easily in the bare nakedness of a midnight casbah
This is me – this is who I am – I am Big Daddy Max
The shadow of the sundial moves with the lightness of an invisible feather
Yet it cuts down everything in its path
Only the demons of eternity are immune to its swath because they are made from time itself – the true children of forever.
The casbah that you prowl, see, smell and hear
Is not the complex pattern of forces that make the whole thing happen
Rats see it all quite differently from their subterranean world pipeways, shit and garbage
The maps, guide books, etc can not begin to describe the evolution of interconnected changes that channel the current dynamic dis-equilibrium into this organic snarl of agony and ecstasy puss, jiz, sputum, tears and mint tea
The whole universe minus the stories about it is just an ongoing manifestation of casbah formation
like the evolution of a coral reef
All the reflections, pictures, stories, explanations and beliefs are just somewhat random commentary (gossip)
There is a common ground between the actual physical evolution and the mental evolution of stories about the physical evolution
This common ground is said to be secret because it is so mysterious and impossible to directly explain yet so simple
It is a secret that you keep from your self and the deepest and most mysterious secret of all
Profoundly deep, obscure, black this mystery is called the Gate
As in “The Gate of all knowledge”
So well known to everyone, yet totally unknown to anyone
This mystery pervades every passageway, every wall, every doorway and every room of the casbah
These ancient lived in ruins of times past and times future where the ancient daemons grow huge stretch the mind beyond all conscious meaning are the training ground for the seer of mystery
The squatter bog...
Astral Projection A La Casbah
“Best get your shit straight before trying any thing complicated”
I find it easy to sit t the Cafe du Tangirs and watching the foot traffic passing by – like watching an aquarium full of beautiful fish I like to observe – because I have no preferences or anyone I am in any way attached to in this town. Because neither love nor hate arises, all is clear and petty disguises and ass kissing and posing or pulling faces does not connect to or confuse me. If I let any of them get me involved in the least slightest way, I am sucked into a whirlwind of confusion and paranoia. This can even be more intense when you are out of your body. By night, I fly around out of my body and watch things from interesting vantage points, by day I sit in the Soco-Chico.
I stay detached because I wish to know the objective truth – there is no subjective truth. I hold no opinions for or against anyone or anything. I am free to see the truth as long as I do not make any value judgments based on my Western European/Judao-Christian ethics. Here I can escape that disease of the mind and learn to be fundamental and pure. When you are fundamental you can leave your body at will. When you are pure you can get back.
When the fundamental blamelessness of existence is not recognized as being at the core of everything, the mind – my mind – can not be at peace with the wild throng of chaos and can not fly. The acceptance of the unknowneness of the forces underlying the forces of evolution and our inability to understand the current event result of evolution in its totality creates the peace that comes from being at home in the Universe. This Universe is our home town – it is perfect because it is all that there is – nothing is lacking and nothing is in excess. It is in balance yet everything is not in the center of the balance. Extremes exist and they are a part of the essential nature of this Universe.
Because some are thin and some are fat and most are in the middle, we grasp and evaluate and crave and reject yet the true nature of the bell shaped curve - the distribution of things goes on and on and is in all things. I am serene in my acceptance of the nature of the flow through the Casbah The SocoChico is perfect as the vastness of space is perfect.
If you can serenely sit in a cafe at one of the edges of the SocoChico and be at one with all things, erroneous views will disappear by themselves an be replaced with a sense of your place in the cosmos, then you can fly.
The root manifestation of this casbah is so ancient,cryptic and strange it can not be penetrated by the rational mind and it has always been ancient, cryptic and strange just like flying out of your body. My goal for living here is enlightenment which is requiring a massive, profound change of my both my world view and my way of life/death. Here I have learned to be free, free enough to leave my body and fly through the universe. I remember hearing myself screaming the wild midnight cry of Tangiers night flyer, “ Oh Great Brave New World I am Free. I am free god dammit I am free.” And with this freedom has come a form of joy that I use to gird my loins in preparation to doing fierce battle with the forces of chaos.
The battle has to do with forces inside my self that grasping and rejecting – that I do not know the true nature of things. I mean inside and out, observations, feelings and ideas. To be serene and at one with things allows me to catch my mind and watch the erroneous views melt away like ice on a cafe table. Like a glass of mint tea, just let it sit and the leaves will sink to the bottom. And when things clear you will fly.
Casbah beatitude is like learning to play a guitar, first you have to learn how to tune it, then step by step you can learn to play more and more complex songs. The way you tune your mind is you sit and slowly drink mint tea while observing the great aquarium of souls around you – streaming through the SocoChico. But try to stop all at once to achieve serenity and your effort will shit in your face. And as long as you maintain extreme views you will wipe you face with your own ass. Those who do not live by the way of the casbahgnosis will not be at one with the world and will not be free or ever find true freedom.
The Casbah is creates has a terrain – deny the existence of the terrain and you will miss out on a lot. Actually it is a hurricane – deny it and you will miss the hurricane. Assert that it is empty of meaning and you will miss the reality of the place - Casbahgnosis. The more you gossip or analyze it the further away the reality of the Casbah becomes. Things appear stable but they are actually changing so fast the elaborate conceptions or it become useless as they are built.
Just live and watch and change with it – that is the root essence of the Casbah and of the whole Universe. To see it this way is a moment of eternity in which all things are unified – this is enlightenment and beyond meaninglessness. This is knowing beyond truth, to have it cease cherishing opinions – just change with it.
Dump all thought of up/down good/bad left/right etc. they are only relative. See from everywhere and everywhen. It you hold out even the slightest trace of this/that, right/wrong, now/then or here,there, you will spin into the maelstrom of unbridled opinions – the pure mind essence will be lost in chaos and confusion. Dualities rise – just do not cherish them – let them go as soon as possible with as less fan fair as possible.
When the mind exist undisturbed in the Casbah, there is no objection to anything and things cease to be real in the old way of dualistic reality. That old mind and old Casbah vanishes along with all of the compulsions related to it. This mind is mistakenly called no mind until it and all other conceptions are let go.