The Song. Not The Singer!
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11th June 2000.
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Damn! blast them all to deepest Hades! cussed The Preacher to no-one in particular, for there was none there to speak to, thank God, for I am sure I would have had to have Killed them, I thought wistfully to myself after coming to my senses again.
In this part of the Australian Kimberley it was easy enough for any man wandering around barefoot as long as I had, to miss a small chunk of coffee-rock sticking up through the otherwise fairly smooth pindan. And, as a consequence of running uphill in the moonlight, naked but for my jock-strapped equipment, I had paid insufficient attention to the actual phenomenal conditions existing in all 360 degrees and through all four planes of the environment my old brother donkey was playing around in at that particular point in the earthly continuum.
Hmm.. i thought, for I had forgotten mySelf momentarily... Donne und Blitzen, I will have my way with those accursed fools yet Lord. Show me how it is 'I' may live among "them".. those slimeborne Worms that hound my Peace continually, for I care nothing for myself among them. Perchance it were not for my children and those I love I should destroy them All this instant...
Ah dear me, but I made a Pact with Thou, Lord, back around 1983 in their time wasn't it?... Hmm... what mixed emotions of both higher and lower centres have I endured ... and, Wait! (also rejoiced for) in order to complete this Antipodean Destiny of mine that I first set out for back in... Ooh, must've been '67 or thereabouts mustn't it? Of course the question was rhetorical, for The Almighty seldom ever speaks.. Not to a man... not in that manner of speaking anyway, but as I hobbled down the hillside...
I heard lightning "crack over canefields". The little musicbox in the back of my old jeep was blaring out from the cassette I had left on, and I thanked The Lord for His lesson, for I knew I was in the Sacred Land of Sinim, and I laughed out loud and uproariously, and thought of the Aboriginal Elder who had taught me of the Sacred Scream Of Death, and the connection seemed obvious to me. My blooded big left toe and bruised knees were in any case incidental, but the little-prick-of-pain all that time ago, seemed like a very distant event to me as I rocked to that uniquely Australian Music playing in my ears.
Of course, of course, no wonder a sinner couldn't make the connection, this was not pronounced in 'that' way!
No... finally, at that moment, I realised that the "True Black Hearted White Man" lived and breathed in me, and I understood my "Pure White Hearted Black Brother" perfectly.
Lord what water has flown under the bridge since then as we stand on the edge of this gruesome Y2K Furphy!
Oh Uluru! How I Adore Thee, Thou Sacred Rock Of Ages.. O how I Adore Thee IAO
Blessed Be. Namaste. 'Twas The Sacred Rock that held the Secret... the real secret I mean.. The Secret of Secrets...
But I knew Better than to ask Hym THAT! No, I had asked Him too many times before, "where's the Gold this time then, Lord?".. And I was sick of being told "It's in them thar hills Davy Crockett"..
Climb any Mountain.. the old song goes.. But Thou shouldst not climb The Sacred Rock! Some things are just not for the eyes and ears of these contemptible contemporary 'men' ... Assuming they had any that is, of course, which lack they have, is probably all that has saved the owners of these profane feet which tread this path.
And thus, after seven cycles of seven this time around, I turn my back on all that is unholy..
It's been a long hard road, thanks for the pitstops Lord, and Pwhoar! weren't some of those Bewdys..
With that, The Old Man fell asleep in his armchair, and by the smile that slipped across his face as he dozed off, I knew he was going to Strange and Wondrous places to which I had no access.
I am The Preacher.
Thou Shalt NOT Blaspheme
