State of Transcendian Theory

Outdoor Cats CD Imprint (1)

Transcendia of course is built for people like myself. They then do not necessarily exist. I have been a willing worker, willing to do what was in front of me to do. I am now reduced to a full time artist. I was trained in Rochester, NY as an audio visual technician. My father wanted me to be a writer. I know this because I asked him to help me become a pilot. “We are too poor for that.” Then he bought me piano lessons.
I was writing and even wrote poetry by the time I was in high school. In Junior High my teachers threw my stories out. They said they were too violent? Something. Two of them drove me around in Greensboro the night Martin Luther King was killed.

Schooling for me had been hell in Elon College. I’ve written about it. I was attacked as a Yankee from the Second Grade on. When it came time for me to go to high school at the high school all these people were going to go to, who had tormented and attacked me and I had had to fight with for myself, and for my brother and sisters, I simply walked to the next school district.

I went to the end of the bus line and got on the bus and went to school with strangers. All of a sudden I was popular. It was better for me to be popular. I was tired of fighting.

Yeah, it was the 9th Grade teachers that read my English stories. Repeatedly in my academic life teachers have simply destroyed my work. I don’t know why I put up with it at all. Oh yeah, then they took an interest in me. That was the blonde and her brunette friend drove me around Greensboro during an unrest. My father by then was working at A&T, the traditionally Black University.

His story of that night is depressing. He was crawling around in the bushes as he had done on battlefields in France and Germany. There were National Guard machine gunners on the tops of the campus buildings ready to kill Black people.

My family had become divorced. My father had a life long interest in helping Black people as he was a bisexual. It has been common in the Black Churches to look down on gays. My father was betrayed repeatedly during his life. I got the idea from my mother I didn’t need him, we didn’t need him. I got the idea I shouldn’t love him, or want to be like him.

He taught me about how to be an actor. He taught me how to talk. It is fucked up to attempt not to love your father for a boy. I’ve been a good man. I was a mean son in a lot of respects. I am so sorry I wasn’t there for him as he was dying. You have no idea. I am crying now as I write. My throat is constricted.

I can hold onto what he said about my humor. “I’ve never liked your sense of humor, it always has to mean something.” My answer was then, “So what, you don’t have one.”

I think he liked slapstick. Okay, I told Mom she could base the divorce on lack of good humor. Okay. Has to be some good reason.

Regardless of these things, it was the Boy Scouts that saved me. We had all become Episcopalians, as we were. That was Mom’s life long religion. Upper crust she was. He came from the working classes being the first in his family to go to college. He was more grounded and serious than my mother.

In Greensboro, where we moved, I made friends with an outsider. We listened to Frank Zappa. He said go to the library. Jim Morrison recited Lizard stories and all was generation gap. The war made a difference. His brother was a returned Vet. He told us about it. I’d had letters telling me never to go, from the guys there from when I was in the 9th Grade. It was lost and lies from the beginning.

Failed Morality and Wasted Courage, the story of America my whole life. Generation Gap, and nobody sees us still as adults. I am the old man now. I do know what I am talking about. Cut the crap. Nobody dies from pot. You just want to take property from us. You don’t want us to make a living our way, with our crop.

I was sent to Chicago for threatening to drop out. There I got scholarships about the writing. I was led to believe I’d get something for it.

I went to Rochdale College Toronto eventually. My mentors failed or abandoned me. My ethics nearly got me killed. My number came up high and I could return, no problem.

I had come to love sometime along the way, cameras, filmmaking.
They wouldn’t give me a writing job at the big newspaper later. I was a Circulation Manager. I could drive like a race car driver because of the Boy Scout leaders I had from NASCAR. Later I heard my Scout Master killed himself in his Z28. I got fired from the Circulation Manager job.
I had been a reporter photographer in Honeyoye Falls.
Things are out of order.

The point being OK, I worked at jobs that were what I could get in the South, and in the North. I was not ever unethical. I was not a thief or barbarian. My twenties, those years of youth and strength and passion went fast. “No Shame in Honest Work.” Mom had said.

“Your Grandfather never had a degree as an engineer. He was making 50 thousand a year as a VP for Revere Cooking Ware, and as an Efficiency Expert during the Depression. He was the Design Team Chief for the team that made the Norden Bomb Sight used for high altitude bombing from B-17s in WWII.”

He was a bad example for me. I got the idea of meritocratic rise, and when after 9 years of Aviation Ground Services on three different airports, I ended up fired by Piedmont for something I did not do. I ended up in NYC working on commercials, music videos, and independent features.

“Mint Julep” is as high as I got up that ladder.
It looks good.

What I shot was shot in 1994. It was released as a feature in 2010. I had suffered the failure of my lighting and grip truck business because of a producers lockout that damaged many others who of the smart ones moved from NY to LA.

Having family and a place to stay in NC, which I now call Not Conscious, after a lonely impoverished year in FLL, working though a nearly exploded disc I had returned to NC, and got that feature job as the Director of Photography. You can see it, how good I was with the camera.

The other good job was with Industrial Light and Magic, far as filmmaking jobs. Worked second Unit Gaffer on He Got Game the whole 4 days it shot in Not Conscious. How about that. 4 days. Only one got the whole four days.

When I worked with the Local 574, on my acquired Local 491 card, nothing went to my pension and welfare. Stagehand work, well I could do it as a movie electrician. Pay was half my film rate. Film jobs went away by the turn of the century in NC.

If you were from LA, where all the money and jobs were, the culture different, you didn’t work in NC unless you couldn’t get other work. NYC and Wilmington are two different places as well. Wilmington to my experience as a year actually with a place to live there in a room was discovered to be a racist xenophobic place. An Episcopalian isn’t really their kind of Christian.

NC is not that welcoming a place to the creative classes. Only place in all my travels I though I could get shot in the back of the head was in Wilmington. The grocery store was robbed near closing on a Saturday night while I tried to get some coffee and bacon. I cooked over a fire in the backyard. I was burning anthracite coal in the fireplace. I got around on a motorcycle that was on its second engine.

Finally I ended up giving up and got work as a carpenter in Chapel Hill.
Thinking of Jack Kerouac with his mother in what, Rocky Mount, I’d rewritten manuscripts I started when I wanted to be a novelist. The book out as an ebook, and an audiobook, now called The Revolutionary is one of them.
From that book I learned that anarchy leads to isolation and despair.

On the floor of the Coliseum in Greensboro a guy pointed at the Mexicans cleaning up the place, up there walking through the hard aisles of seats, a guy asked me what I had to say to them, something, he asked me, and I said, “My past is your future.”

I’d been an immigrant, illegal, Canada, poor, even ignorant about some important things.

I’d had so many jobs, been independent non union, and union, that when Alan Greenspan that US workers needed to be retrained I vowed to be come an economist.

All along since 1978 I had been working to create Transcendia, the Company, Country, and Work of Art.

I had been invited to Carter’s Inauguration, there is a movie of it on the web. The Common Fool’s Trip to the Inauguration is the formal title. Zelig is one of Woody Allen’s movies I appreciate. I had gotten let down by the Carter Administration.

My inspiration was to found a nation of airports that became a nation of spaceports, eventually. I had become convinced that the US was past the point of no return, far as there being any hope of reform of it.

People like me, are versatile, ethical, hardworking, dangerous people. Just being someone who liked to smoke pot puts us outside of the mainstream workforce. We aren’t even really counted since they started piss testing everybody.

I was going to declare pot legal on all our Transcendian airports, and run the nation from the taxes on the transactions.

My wife and her family, first wife, divorced me for this. I said, “So what if we can’t make it work, we’ll still have a lot of good land.”

They had known about it before I got married, but had plans for me to become a NY Life Insurance Broker. I didn’t know of their plans till the day after I was married. I did learn a lot about NY Life Whole Life Insurance Policies.

I had one for awhile.

Hence it was that when inventing Transcendia and in need of a currency, I invented the Insurodollar. I’ve explained it till I’m blue in the face.

Go look at me on Transcendian on youtube. Buy a Transcendia, or Transcendian Passport.

This is serious work.

Sure enough I want to make a nation versatile well read willing people will want to defend. I want them to want to be a citizen of the airport nation. They will have flight privileges like I had when working for Piedmont.

So really Immigration to my nation is very desirable. When I was wanted to fight in Viet Nam, I nearly became a Canadian. There was the corruption of the independent nation Rochdale that really put an end to that thought.

You can read about why I think the way I do, in Poor Buzz & Stories from Warnings for my Daughter.

I’m still a citizen of the US. I hate the Beats for their involvement in the mobster world of heroin. I am a morphine addict now, on three time release pills a day. I have a chronic painful disease. I have two replaced hips, two plastic cornea, a bridge of titanium in my neck to keep me from being paralyzed. I am a spastic without Tazanadine. It could be replaced by hash oil, hashish if it was legal.
There is no cartilage in my right shoulder. I go into the hospital tomorrow for another operation. It is just a hernia operation. There is a fifteen percent chance my dick won’t work afterwards. It doesn’t work so great as it is now.

For the ten years when again I was working at carpentry, with the best renovations crew in town I tried to make UNTV a real TV Channel you would want to watch for the truth about international conditions, threats of war, ways to do things.
My thesis, supported by Andre` Lewin of the French UN Association was that with truth between FOX and MSNBC now, it was CNN when I started, war could be forestalled.

Youtube is the best you are going to get like UNTV, and it isn’t really on the Fireplace. TV is the Fireplace. Flickering light. The same.
This year, if I live, I have to go out and get the Currency of Fame. Do you want to help me? My plan is to take the amp I built and the guitars I built and go near the TV Stations and play and say.

The Devil was dragging on me. I was willing to run for US Senate from North Carolina. That is why I am the Intendor. My daily show on Youtube is The Intendor Tm Radio Show.

Distribution is the big difficulty in economics. Physically a Nation of Airports solves this. It also solves the problem intellectually and culturally and socially.

Regardless of religions, the people of the world know how they are expected to act at the airport.

I have always followed the rule of “Build on your Strengths”. I even tell youth to do what comes easy for them because there will be plenty of hard things for them to do. Some artists, go into the work thinking that all they will be required to know, is how to express themselves. There are a lot of tools to master far as that is concerned. I took Audio Visual Technology at the fine Community College MCC, because I just wanted to know how to use the tools of my chosen profession.

How to do, and what to do, are two different things.

(By the way the University of North Carolina won’t allow, help artists sell art at the airport they hold in trust by the pleasure of the citizens of the state, get to manage any way they want, “Because someone would make money.”) They don’t even want the artists they tout as so important to the community life, to make real money. The Hegemon that is the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, is a sad case really. From Silent Sam the hero who wasted his life in the service of the ideals of slave owners, slave traders, traitors to the US, invested in slave labor still in love with it never wanting to pay labor like it was the best law of the land ever proposed! Keep a hero of that sort of ideals tall on the campus with every excuse there. Then to 18 years of fraud. Then to their Big Lie, they will close the airport. That big lie. Then what is it really? A land grab to benefit wealthy contractors after the citizen tax money. Not Conscious and they let the University manage it at a deficit like a private airport to the benefit of the insiders watch ball games and write checks and say everybody loves the arts, but really they just love ball games. Will pull tricks there to win.

Some say that the US is mature, and can’t really handle all these immigrants, refugees, illegal immigrants, but this isn’t true.
If the US can’t handle these people it is because the US has become so dominated by a set of discredited economic theories, and run by Generals far as its foreign policy is concerned, plus further corrupted because of its insistence that the goddamned hippies cut their hair, and all the Blacks they call niggers stop being who the are, and live like they want, quiet in the impoverished ghettoes out of sight and out of mind while they rip everybody off that it is a real wonder more cops are not shot on sight.

Not because the cops are not working class like they are, but because the cops do enforcer work, oppression work, not just keep the peace. People like me, old hippies who got the message that hiding out and even “starving the beast” was a rational response to the failures of the nation.

Corruption was legalized by Bill Clinton. Reagan went after the FAA unionized Air Traffic Controllers because IATSE wanted to cut his face off when he was president of SAG.

The head was cut off the UN when the concept of majority rule, which Wilson so insisted on was first put prominent in the Charter, and then when made such a thing, thrown out so the persecuted jews of Germany and Russia could take over Palestine and do what the Germans did to them to the Palestinians.

It’s just the way the world is, right? Get real. Don’t even try.

After watching Noam Chomsky and Alan Dershowitz debate about it I offered to Noam the skew of the Insurodollar concepts a strong understandable and fair way to disincentivize the killing of innocents in GAZA.
That is the Israelis buying insurance on Palestinians and the Palestinians buying insurance on Israelis so that the Insurance Company of Israel has to pay from the treasury of the Insurance Company death and destruction benefits when they kill innocent civilians and blow to smithereens there homes, businesses, and property.

The Palestinians, and by extension all the people who give the Palestinian government money would have to do the same.

It is a fair system I offer, on its face. I’ve tweeted about it. Till you see me on your fucking Television screen, that fireplace, it won’t fucking happen.

Noam Chomsky let me down by saying no more than no one would listen to me. My point of course in exposing him to the concept was to get him to mention the idea.

My old drinking buddy and friend Beni Avini, the columnist at the Post, he has let me down to. I guess we aren’t friends really, anymore.

Of course the conflicts are so rooted in as a real justifiable hatred of each other by now, that it would take overwhelming gendarme presence in GAZA to keep the peace.

I have been high as you ever get and will debate any Muslim other on hashish while on it too. Stuff me full of any of that and I can function with the best of them from the neck up, now.

I am not going to be alive that much longer. Israel and Palestine are worth my thought as a Transcendian Airport that refuses to pack up and leave its host country.

Take away the nuclear weapons the US gave the Israelis and they have to do real war with tanks again. All of the powerful nuclear bomb equipped nations really like them since they provide the power of War By Threat.

It is the US that is most likely to bomb the shit out of Russian tanks with dialed down thermonuclear bombs if they can’t win otherwise. Look for where there are the most tanks for the most likely battlefields. In short range engagements the MIAbrams advantages are nullified. Poland just got about 250 German Lepoards Leaporads damn. I feel like misspelling it.

The Russians have put tanks in the Syrian mix.

That war area, where first was found iron to start up the iron age, and the talk of some mythical diplomatic solution could only be solved right away if Assad was captured like the King on the chessboard and put in an airport hotel room, or in Elba, which Andre` Lewin was so fond of because he was French and that is where Napoleon died of something already nearly killed me too.

Thanks to the surgeon Liz Dressen, I am alive.
I felt the hand of death on me like you hear described by people who have felt it during that one.

A Nation of Airports that is desirable because it is run according to the precepts of the Declaration of Human Rights solves a number of problems for the world. Economically it was at the very first meant to moderate world economic disparities. That was an obvious benefit. I am replacing the challenged Silk Road.

Mohammad set an example when he robbed Meccan Merchants working their way between China and India? My map isn’t too good. Isn’t that it? I have to re-study some times. John Loftin who wrote the Big Story, Big Picture, taught or still teaches Divinity at Duke. Lives over in Hillsborough, he could tell you off the top of his head.

Far as I can tell Mohammad may well have written in some kind of peace into his opus, but his example is what mattered and he and his family were about robbing Meccan Merchants, then praying towards Mecca, then taking it over and looting the place. Mohammad was liked for sharing the loot amongst his band of looters.

Jesus and Buddha, were forgivers, and they said the final law was obvious that you were best to do unto others as you would have done unto you. Jesus wanted you to love his father.

He claimed his father was God.

At the Convent where my Grandfather was the head priest I had my first drink of Scotch, thirteen, on a visit to the Episcopal Convent for the Episcopal Nuns with a very attractive nun. I can remember her face. She had curves. She was looking in my eyes. “You know why the Virgin Mary was called the Virgin Mary?”
“No.” I said. I just said, “No.”

We were in a castle in Versalles Kentucky. It was a wonderful room. My Grandfather was across the room at his big brown desk. The room was nothing but classy in that way of all the Ivy League Universities. They must mimic the rooms of the Lords come down out of King Alfred’s England, or is it King Albert? Whomever it was the historian, David Hume. I love how he just said lots of Crusader Kings did outrageously stupid things. If they survived, meaning weren’t run through or got their heads chopped off, they retired to the convent where the nuns were, like my Grandfather did.

“Well, Mary was the town whore, and Joseph was the town queer, and when Mary got pregnant, Joseph took care of her. They would be walking down the street you know, and the people said, “Yeah, there goes the Virgin Mary and Joseph.”
You’ve see people joke like that. Language, people have had humor for a long time. They write down their favorite jokes. People with impaired reading and critical thinking skills put on the serious mantle and talk like there is something different going on in the world than what the facts show us. Virgins do not get fucked by beings that don’t have bodies.

I am fully convinced that I will never get fucked once I don’t have a body.

All the spirits without bodies lust to have bodies and experience lust and passion and the physical sensations that are wildly satisfying even when you only half way know how to do it.

So then, if it is a joke, it makes sense. If you are the son of every man, any man, son of a whore, a prostitute, then you are the Son of Man, or Son of God.
I don’t even want to argue with you about it. Life is a joke. A joke is the right answer to the wrong question or the wrong question to the right answer, technically. I did Stand Up Comedy after I heckled Eddy Murphy mercilessly at the Comic Strip in Fort Lauderdale. I pretty much stopped after David Letterman, the show, Margeret Hannah, asked for a tape, and I sent in the tape and was rejected. I had a baby. I had bills to pay. Time was getting eaten up.
Back then Transcendia, hell, it was a joke.

I did a speech at Dag Hammerskold Plaza in 1990 or 1991. Jason Epstein came. A cop came. I’d paid 15 dollars for a speaking permit. It was great. I showed the flag. We went over from Dag Hammerskold Plaza to the UN to show the flag. I want it up in that row. Somebody did try and buy it. I’d got my wife to sew up 6.

Peggy Say just died.

I gave her one of the flags because I cared about the plight of Terry Anderson, her brother. I’d driven my Caddilac over there to Buffalo. I had some Idea going. I talked with her. She was sad, had sad eyes. Back then it was Lebanon, Beirut.

I’d smoke blonde Lebanonese hash. It was alright. Not as good as Black Nepalese Temple balls, but they had a little opium in there. Red Lebanese was better. I think I smoked some Afghani hash. It was good. We tried to do 10 pipes, but throwing in the mescaline, I don’t know, we only made it to 7. Once I ate a couple of grams of some good brown hashish and sat in a chair all day, maybe three? Some mother got mad at me for letting her baby play with the ashes in the ashtray. I didn’t think it was hurting the kid get its hands dirty.

In the commune everybody wanted you to take care of their baby, and wash their dishes. The hippies all gave up on living in communes. Okay if you got your own little hut. Better anyway. I lived in an urban commune on a floor with a big common room and a galley kitchen. The sink was always full of dirty pots and pans. The Big Man locked it up in the end.
Socialism. If it is everybody’s, it is nobodies. You can wish, but there are people that fuck it up. Take advantage of the others, good people. We are seeing that now. I don’t know how many draft dodgers and deserters went to Canada. There were 800 people officially living in Rochdale College when I was on Security there. Somebody said a full quarter of the drugs, hallucinogenics and hash and pot were moved into North America out of Rochdale.

Security under Billy Littler and Fergy and Shakey and Mickey and the corrupted Board of Governors, allowed Billy to steal the cocaine of the dealers that were getting into coke, offering it, kick them out, bar them, take their coke and give it away or sell it. They were getting it from a front Rentco van delivery service they had operation on the Toronto airport.

I tried to stop it. I turned Coke at a party down. They told me not to tell Lionel so much about what they were doing. Said something about me going out a window.

Corruption.

I want better people than that for Transcendia. I want people willing to work for what they get. You know it looks like all the European draft dodgers from the Syrian area war, ought go back with weapons and fight for their women. Go get their own women. They didn’t make themselves look worthy of what the German people were offering. I can see the problems, but they we let fester. Obama let that Assad cross the Red Line. Sure he gave some chemical weapons up, but look how long and how much it has festered?

You know it is too much. Sure there is a need for young men in Europe to fill the jobs the old ones can’t do anymore. But too much too soon and all different without the moderating factor of their own women.
Everything, all the wars, women.

They can’t protect their women and they aren’t about to put their lives on the line for Assad, his insiders,so they just leave.

If you have an international system of airports that is absolutely totally intolerant of violence towards women, strippers, whores even, they have to go. No way can that be tolerated on a place runs according to the Declaration of Human Rights, the one that gives the rights to women, that one. Not the one the Saudis like.

I got the shit beat out of me, like I’ve said, defending a porno star. I’m like that. I want people like me. I was a good lineman.
Helpful and funny Station Agent.

Why did Piedmont fire me? Well US Air was buying Piedmont. My wife at the time was said to be having an affair with the Station Manager. Good looking Black guy, Louis. I was told that in the hallway at work. I don’t know. We were separated, I think. Yeah I was living on Culver. Cashed in what was left of the Insurance. The 25 hundred I’d inherited, was getting eaten up.

“What’s this about this thing Transcendia? Did you write an email to headquarters?”

“Yes, yes I did.” (I’d written an email to headquarters about the rudeness of some station agent to passengers. I’d not thought it was in any way horrible. Phil, this other guy wrote some email. I saw it. It was stupid. Had curse words in it. Inappropriate. He, Phil denied writing anything and they wanted to fire me, so they did.)

Piedmont was the worst working experience of my life. Really. Cecil Sayre was a liar. Promised that if I took the job I’d be making in house instructional videos. I’ve got documentary video of my training still. He, Cecil Sayre is what a working guy calls a fat fuck. You know them. They are the guys sit behind a desk, and are that, “Fat fuck.” I don’t know where they come from, how they get those jobs. I don’t want to end on that note, but I will.

I’ve put too much time into this.

A Nation of Airports with uniform proper laws and building on the strengths of the culture of civility at airports would help moderate world economic disparities. Citizens would be able to move to where the work for them was. You want the working classes to have the same freedoms as the corporations. They need mobility. Dutch people with all their education can travel for work most wherever they want for instance.

The Netherlands is well positioned to adopt the Insurodollar. If I was them, and thought about what had happened to Greece at the hands of the Germans, their bankers, a better currency than the Euro would be up there on my list of things to do. (Where were Greek Insurance Companies in the whole game?)

If you want to invest in me, buy a book or a passport, or the newly released CD, Beatniks & Spiders, by Outdoor Cats. I have some debts to pay off so I am more upstanding and free. Poverty makes you a beggar. Ambitions can do that to you to I see. I want badly to die with my integrity in tact.

If there is any war I might start, it would be the one to get rid of nuclear weapons. War by Threat, is pushing up on some limits. People are used to great swaths of the earth done in, poisoned. Fukushima was a crime in the aftermath. We can’t expect human nature to change so much that we won’t go to war somewhere over something. Sometimes you just have to. Best we can do, and we can do it, is have rules against mass murder and torture. International Laws matter. Nuremberg was an important precedent.

Thanks.

P.S. I dread this hernia operation tomorrow. I have fear associated with it, being dead to the world again. Some of you know what I’m talking about. It beats the alternative, being “under” but you get the distinct feeling that dead to the world is pretty much like being dead. Nothing. You wake up or you don’t.

Facebook Twitter Email Pinterest Plusone Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Tumblr Posterous Email Snailmail