3400 PHINNEY CHOCOLATE PRETZEL LOGIC (122)

Pretzel Logic

My friend Terence McKenna / Robert Blake / John the Baptist likes to say something that I have a Peculiarly Strong inclination to repeat here once again: "When the truth can be told so as to be understood, it will be believed."

Chapter One: Who is the Christ?

I, Arthur Jefferson Fairhall Rawat, who have been claiming for two years in over $100,000 worth of published statements to being an incarnation of the Biblical figures of Abel and Isaac, the person known as the Christ, offer the following definition of "the Christ:"

The Christ is the person whom my father, Prem Rawat, whom I also refer to as Arius and have identified as the One and Only Being who always has and always will exist and the true father of all Aryan men, deems most worthy and qualified to be the Master Inventor of the imaginal realm in which a world of sentient human beings can co-exist and enjoy a happy existence together.

In other words, the Christ is the Charlie whom Willie Wonka (Arius) finds to be the most honest, humble and sincere among all of his many Aryan sons, and is the one to whom he gives the psychedelic chocolate factory of the Imagination that he has built, so that he can move on ("I won't retire but I might retread" - Arius Green from Neil Young Rawat's Greendale album) and build yet another. This is what my father Arius, the father of all Aryan men does. He's a man with a six year old boy's heart who loves to masturbate with sweet boys like me, and this is what he does. He creates worlds that he then turns over to his most perfect Aryan son, the one who wishes to be his lover. I am the perfect Aryan son of the perfect childlike father named Arius, perfect because i want what he wants his sons to want, and what they agreed that they wanted too when they signed the Willie Wonka agreement about what it means to be the son of a Willie Wonka.

Willie Wonka's test for finding the requisite perfection required in one boy in order for a world of human beings to succeed is as follows: He is the one and only boy WILLING to be crucified for the sake of the forgiveness of the sins committed against him by people who would NOT be willing to be crucified for the sake of the forgiveness of the sins of others.

I sincerely and honestly believe that this person is me, though I cannot say that I can remember being crucified. I would not be honest if I said that I know I incarnated as Jesus. In fact I don't KNOW for certain if Jesus really ever existed. I can only say that I KNOW that I would have been willing to live the life told of in the Bible as that of Jesus. I pretty much have been demonstrating this willingness throughout this lifetime by allowing myself to be abused without complaint by a whole bunch of parasitic people including at least a few who read the Babylonian Stranger.

Although I cannot recall in any way actually having lived the life of Jesus, as I do indeed have a sense of recalling having been King Arthur, Thomas Jefferson, and the Biblical figures of Abel and Isaac, the son of Abraham, I do identify with the attitude of the biblical character known as Jesus. I tend to believe that I was indeed crucified for the forgiveness of sins because I believe that this would effect the maximum good, which is to say, because I believe that Prem Rawat is the Absolutely Perfect Master of Life and that he would deem that the most perfectly honest person in a world that He Created (as Brahma or Jupiter or Krishna or Arias or Prem or even as F*ck, but not as "G*d" because I really don't believe He likes G*d as a name, nor Jehovah or Yahweh or anything resembling that) be crucified for the forgiveness of the sins of dishonesty.

My best guess as to why I can't remember having lived the life of Jesus, if there was such a person, is that somehow my Perfect Father and Master Arius, Prem Rawat, has some way of enabling me to forget having lived through that particularly unpleasant episode.

Is there any man reading this who believes about himself that if one person in the world was willing to be nailed to a cross for the benefit of others, that it would have been him? Instead of telling me "you can't possibly be the Christ" for one reason or another, because I made a wrong prediction or because i don't fit your image, tell me that you know someone who you think is more likely to have been willing to be nailed to a cross than me.

Chapter two: The Koan
(No I am not talking about that book of lies called the Koran given to the biggest failure of a person ever, my enemy Cain the Major Top Ten Leading Global Justice Antichrist when he was incarnated as Mohammed, by the Archangel Peter Gabriel. I am talking about the riddle of Sauron, the greatest Koan, or riddle, in all of history.)

When I was nineteen years old I dropped out of Oberlin College, a liberal arts college in its namesake town in Ohio, and hitchhiked to a sacred place in the Catskill Mountains of New York called Dai Bostasu Zendo, a Zen Buddhist monastery located beside a beautiful lake upon which I paddled a "sylvan canoe" and that I seem to recall was named Beecher, surrounded by beautiful hills covered with the most colorful trees. Dai Bosatsu is one of the places dearest to my heart in all of this world; I hope to be able to do a pilgrimage there next fall in the same season of perfection, mid October. When I arrived unannounced I was welcomed by a most generous Roshi, or Japanese Zen Buddhist Master, named Eido Shimano, the chosen successor to Soen Roshi in a lineage of Masters extending back to Bodhidharma, the founder of Aryan, or Mahayana, Buddhism, all of whose names I recited as a part of the daily ritual.

My short time at Dai Bosatsu was a great and unexpected opportunity, which I am only now beginning to fully appreciate, to study for just a short while with the Zen Master Eido Shimano Roshi, who is undoubtedly the reincarnation of a much more well known figure or two from history, who I long to know for certain is one of the most proud men on Earth, along with His Holiness the Dalai Lama, my father in this life AW Fairhall, and a certain man, who shares with His Holiness the single name of Gyatso, who is the father of the sweetest and most precious Tibetan Baby Snowleopard and whom I regard as one of the greatest saints I have known in this life, among others equally worthy of feeling great pride in this greatest of all moments in Time.

With all due respect to Eido Shimano Roshi, who I now believe was probably fully enlightened in the truest possible sense of the word at the time I was with him at Dai Bosatsu, I consider Neil Young Rawat, my all time favorite rock star hands down, to be the greatest Zen Master in this world. It is he who has presented this particular puzzle to me, this one about the guy whose been poisoning him for a couple of millenia, so now I shall offer the man whom I consider to be one of my four fathers, Neil Rawat, the answer to the greatest and most perplexing "Koan" ("riddle") of all time.

To borrow a phrase from Steely Dan, "Pretzel Logic" is what we are talking about here. The solving of Koans is really a matter of thinking deeply and logically through a puzzle, often with multiple meanings, an ability that only the most honest of male human beings have and that can be perfected, if a man wants to be a Master Pretzel Logician like me and Neil Rawat of the mischievious brow, to the degree that he becomes perfectly honest. (there's that pesky H-word again) Apparently it is Cervantes, the author of Don Quixote, who is attributed with having coined the phrase "Honesty is the best policy," among the wisest string of five or fewer words ever uttered, right up there with "Know thyself."

Chapter Three: The Koan's Solution

Dokusan is a private meeting with Roshi, and it's Dokusan time at the Zendo.
All is still in the Zendo, as usual, not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

The smell of incense of the highest quality and of the perfect subtlety wafts. Rain water dripping from the eves of the roof onto the ground is the only detectable movement in the place.

Then comes the moment that we Zen students, who follow a tradition introduced to the world by a man known to some, perhaps, as Franklin Bodhidharma, wait for: the opportunity to demonstrate our progress with the Koan that we are currently working on. Yes, it's Dokusan time, an opportunity to offer our bet guess as to the correct solution to the riddle called a KOAN, and a restless stirring begins to be felt in the Zendo.


Now the Jisha (Roshi's assistant) prepares for Dokusan, and my attention is no longer so much in my hara as on the familiar sounds coming from the great Dharma Hall.

The instant the Bai (mallet) hits the metal I LEAP and RUSH to the Dharma Hall in order to get as close to the front of the Dokusan line as possible, in order to offer a solution to the Koan my Master has given to me, which is as follows:

Why has the one called Satan, the leading promoter of the practice of using alcohol as a means of altering human consciousness, done what he has done in order to further such a terrible, terrible idea as his?

Here is what i offer, given my level of comprehension at this time, as the answer to the very perplexing KOAN that stumped even Lucifer, who I would guess is the second best answerer of the KOANS of Life after me, which is, once again, as follows:

Why has Satan, AKA Soren Kierkegaard, AKA Joseph P. Wh*nney, done what he has done?

Why did he break down the Temple walls in Jerusalem some 2600 years ago and poison the body of the Deity Vishnu, the sustainer of this world, Neil Rawat, and then, as Soren Kierkegaard, hatch his sick plan to load up the central nervous system of the body of our precious and completely vulnerable Holy Rawat Father with pharmaceutical poisons?

My answer to Roshi is one or both of the following:

Because he had a really wicked mother named Nurse Rachet who fell for the Beast Martin R*th's biggest conspiracy against the Rawat family and the human race, and or because he fell in love all by himself with the idea of using the toxic effects of alcohol as the best remedy for dealing with sin.

Chapter four: The Defeat of a Liar
Repentance, confession and forgiveness of sin really do present a much better answer for dealing with the really bad problem of men's sinful nature, but our friend Joe just really wanted to promote his alcoholic Babylonian solution of complete Bookwormish oblivion for all.

Apparantly he just didn't realize that the love of an incestuous son for his incestuous family, and his incestuous sweet baby snowleopard mother in particular, would keep him from caving, as Lucifer did, into the Clockwork Orangesque, David Ickesque, shape-shifting perplexion over how a person could possibly be so stupid as to have done what Satan did.

The inventor and leading promoter of distilled alcohol is the person who has committed the worst crimes in all of history, and he is the guy who is called "Satan" in the Holy Bible. He's gonna take a lot of people with him to his alcohell. i hope you won't be one of them.

The Lord of the Rings is an allegory about the struggle that's been going on in this world between the dishonest people who like to drink alcohol as a way of being in denial of their self-hatred, and the honest people who like to use psychedelics as a way of being in awareness of their self-love. The name of the character of "SAURON" is a reference to Soren Kierkegaard, a guy from Denmark who is associated with the Existentialist movement, a group of people that includes Nietzche, the one who said "God is Dead." Kierkegaard wrote a famous book called "Fear and Trembling and the Sickness unto Death."

Kierkegaard had a really bad idea, which was to fill the nervous system of the deity who sustains this world, whom he poisoned with distilled alcohol when he was incarnated as a guy named Satan back when the Temple was in Jerusalem, with poisons called pharmaceutical drugs. Never mind "Satan," call him Sauron or Kierkegaard, or just call him Joe Wh*nney, his name in this lifetime. Joe's a really bad liar, that's why Satan is called "the Liar." Neil Young, the deity whom he has been poisoning for twenty six hundred years requiring him to rely upon a consant supply of opiates for relief, has a song about him that goes like this:

I never knew a man / could tell so many lies

He had a different story / for every set of eyes

How can he remember / who he's talking to

Cuz I know it aint me / and I hope it isn't you.

Joe Whinney, Sauron from Lord of the Rings, Soren Kierkegaard, Satan, is the guy who sold the human race the biggest bill of goods in all of history, the idea that there is any reason to intoxicate oneself with alcohol other than to be in denial of sin. He's going to be "executed" soon, that is, sent to his fate in the metaphysical realms of suffering that HE HIMSELF invented, thinking that he had committed the perfect crime.

Joe Whinney, who lied under oath before a judge just days ago, right before my very eyes, that I, the Christ, should be locked up in his mother Nurse Rachet's hospital and drugged into oblivion because I present a threat to him, when in fact all I want is for him to leave me alone and let me have my psilocybin and be at peace with my family without the disruption of alcoholic people who hate us because we are so much happier than they..

Joe stole my house and my business, he ruined my Temple that he said he wanted to help me turn into a psychedelic chocolate factory. He told me that he wanted to help me fulfill Terence McKenna's idea of the Archaic Revival, the idea that the salvation of mankind can only be the abandonment of alcohol and the return to the psychedelic mushrooms and cannabis that existed as popular consciousness-altering substances in a happy world long before Satan invented the alcohol still and took the human race down on its descent toward Hell. Instead, he employed lies in order to have the police come and remove me from my own Temple, three times. And he's whiffed; three strikes and he's out now. He struck out in his efforts to usurp the rightful deities of this world.

He came to Seattle to run my chocolate factory right there in the building that I told him was the Terence McKenna Memorial Temple of the Archaic Revival, and he said this was his dream come true. It was, and this is what he did to prove that to run my psychedelic chocolate factory was his dream come true, what his whole life had been leading him to: In the end, he called the hotel where I was staying because he had stolen my house from me and he TATTLED ON ME for having a few psilocybin mushrooms in my pocket. He came to PREVENT me from doing what I told him so clearly that I was going to do. And yet even my family and many friends side with him against me, just because he's such a damned good liar. He's at least as good at being dishonest as I am at being honest, because most people believe him, the liar, and not me, the truth speaker. Of course, this is also because people prefer to believe the lies of the alcohol proponent than the truth of the psilocybin proponent.

Lying is a pathetic thing for a human being to do, even more pathetic than tattling. Satan Joe Whinney is a liar and a tattle-tale. He's the most pathetic human being who ever lived, maybe tied with Cain, the Antichrist, both slaves of the two most wicked mothers who ever lived, the one called Nurse Rachet is Satan's mom, and Allah is the mother of the Nut-Kicking King Cain, Oedipus Rex the Antichrist.

The Fairmont Olympic hotel, where I was paying $900 a night to stay in a two room hotel suite because Satan Joe Wh*inney had stolen my twelve room house (he was paying me about $2500 a month of MY OWN money to rent it from me, after demanding that I move out after I had graciously offered to sell it to him with seller financing, which he said he wanted to do but never did in over a year of promising saying he intended to) will no longer have me as a guest because the guy I hired to run my psychedelic chocolate factory located in my very own Terence McKenna Memorial Temple of the Archaic Revival called the hotel and tattled on me. The police don't seem to care, but the hotel security people, who I can't imagine would have been such nazis during the Alcohol Prohibition of the 1920s, just don't like me as a guest any more.

That's OK, there's other hotels where I can stay in Seattle, I have a bigger fish to FRY than the Fairmont Olympic Hotel. Yes, it's the fish-frying time that comes when my psychedelic family finally defeats the Liar who invented the alcohol still and has been out to destroy us ever since because alcoholic people inherently hate psychedelic people because alcoholic people are ashamed of how the psychedelic people make them feel.

Yes, Satan was obviously lying in that courtroom. The judge ruled decisively in my favor, and even his expert witness who testified against me in the fulfillment of her Nurse-Rachet-assigned duties admitted to my lawyer that she knew he was going to lose. Because he's just a pathetic liar and she knew the judge would see it too, and so he's pretty much been defeated once and for all by now.

You see, the psychedelic people like me and my family are smarter than the alcoholic people like Satan, and my father Neil Young Rawat and I have outsmarted him. He's toast. He failed to pull off the perfect crime, and now there will finally be some justice in this heretofore unjust world. Sauron is going to endure the perfect punishment for his imperfect crime for at least one thousand years and probably forever according to my father Neil Young Rawat's book about my psychedelic family's struggle with our enemy, the inventor of the alcohol still and his minions. Yes, I am talking about the Holy Bible, it's just another version of the Lord of the Rings, written by Neil Young who is even more trippy than Tolkein who himself obviously had a stunningly brilliant psychedelic mind.

Joe's going to take a lot of you dishonest people, you who love to intoxicate yourselves with his poison in order to be in denial of your self-hatred, with him, but if you can get over your sickness of dishonesty you will be welcome to come be with me and my father Neil Young Rawat and our really cool Nation of Tribes called Israel, a few hundred thousand people who include just about everyone in the world you admire the most. And I think we have a billion or two others we're planning to move on, people from countries like Canada, India, Vietnam and Thailand where the people are not alcoholics. If you want to be with us in what is called "Heaven" (a world without the likes of Joe Whinney messing everything thing up) you gotta be honest or you can FREAKING FORGET ABOUT IT, because me and my honest family are done with suffering from Fear and Trembling and the Sickness Unto Death as a result of your dishonesty and the alcohol that you wish to be in denial of.

So I hope that you didn't fall so in love with Sauron's LIE that alcohol has any redeeming value whatsoever as an intoxicant that you cannot extricate yourself from the predicament you are now in if you are an alcoholic. Because if you did you're in deep doodoo, as the guy named Poppy who most certainly is not Satan would say. But that's your problem and I'm just going to be glad to be rid of you forever, which I most certainly will be in the VERY NEAR FUTURE if you don't want to give up your disease of dishonesty called alcoholism.