G'mork: Fantasia has no boundaries.

Atreyu: That's not true. You're lying.

G'mork: Foolish boy. Don't you know anything about Fantasia? It's the world of human fantasy. Every part, every creature of it, is a piece of the dreams and hopes of mankind. Therefor, it has no boundaries.

Atreyu: But why is Fantasia dying then?

G'mork: Because people have begun to loose their hopes and forget their dreams. So the nothing grows stronger.

Atreyu: What is the nothing?

G'mork: It's the emptiness that's left. It's like a despair, destroying this world. And I have been trying to help it.

Atreyu: But why?

G'mork: Because people who have no hopes are easy to control. And whoever has control has the power.


...KEEP YOUR DREAMS ALIVE...

"The world is a dream, you say, and it's lovely, sometimes. Sunsets. Clouds. Sky."

"No. The image is a dream, the beauty is real. Can you see the difference?"

-from Illusions by Richard Bach

"If you think you're too small to be effective, you have never been in bed with a mosquito."

- Betty Reese

"What we call Man's power over Nature turns out to be a power exercised by some men over other men with Nature as its instrument."

- C. S. Lewis

"The brain speaks through words; the heart in the glance of the eyes; and the soul through a radiance that charges the atmosphere, magnetizing all."

- Hazrat Inayat Khan, Sufi Mystic


furthur reading:

Every soul radiates an influence with charges the atmosphere all around. The more powerful the influence the wider it spreads, forcing its way even through walls. There is no barrier of water or space which can keep that influence from spreading. The stronger the influence the longer it lasts. ... Atmosphere is a silent music. It has its effect upon the listener, exciting or peaceful, whatever it may be.

from www.wahiduddin.net/mv2/XIII/XIII_6.htm


The heart of man is like a globe over the light of the soul. When the globe is dusty, naturally the light is dim. When it is cleaned, the light increases. In fact, the light is always the same. It is the fault of the globe when it is not clear. When this radiance shines out, it shows itself not only through the countenance and expression of a man, but even in the man's atmosphere. The soul-power, so to speak, freely projects outward, and the surroundings feel it.

from wahiduddin.net/mv2/V/V_47.htm

Cyphertown Productions is a network of artists and activists who gather to create events that raise awareness about pertinent social and environmental justice causes. We believe that is it our responsibility to use our privilage and power to influence the global situation by utilizing media tactics, while celebrating with the joy that we wish for the entire world.

We are bridging the creative momentum of the playa-style electronic dance culture with west coast underground hip hop artists and global and acoustic eclectronic world flavor.

www.cyphertown.com
www.myspace.com/cyphertown
profile.to/cyphertown (facebook)
tribes.tribe.net/cyphertown
or cyphertown(at)gmail(dot)com to join our email list!

*1love*

last night I made love with a faerie...
water nymph splashing her droplets of liquid joy
and pouring the sweetest crystal nectar down my throat
until I was so full that I was empty
surrendured to the magic that lives inside
and glistening with morning dew...

rising in love
to the sparkling expanse
of the starfilled sky...
where we came from...
and where we will return too...

and I've returned
back from the most succulent starfields
sitting in full lotus
while tribal clans of bhodisatvahs
circle in luminous frequencies
like morphing celtic knotwork
tied with intention
with fingers who've survived torture
yet love their enemies like their family
for they know
that in some life
we all have been each others mother...


she flew in my window
a seemingly random encounter
which, upon hindsight,
is rich in texture, meaning, and symbolism
as we discover just how KINnected we were the whole time...

she beckoned me thru the bars on my guest house window
out to look at the sky
out to listen to the earth
she wispered languages
more familiar than any one I've ever heard
and danced like fingertip nice nice
cascading down my psyche
like the refreshing ocean that she was made from...

it is nights like this that remind me...

it is nights like this that awaken the magic in my heart,
the parts of us that often lay sleeping our whole lives,
the parts that only come out when empowered
by this thing we call "imagination"
by living as this being we call "child"
by these elements which are so easily dismissed in our "real world"
but are so obviously REAL
when we just close our eyes and FEEL
kneel down to the earth and listen for the footsteps of giants
for the spiders weaving whisper
for the flutter of wings that so narrowly evade your eyesight
until...
wait...
did you see that...?


last night she didn't hide from me
and last night I didn't mock her with rational thought
the kind that pushes invisibility
like wind on a sand castle...


as this surrender becomes natural
and as the elements reveal their personalities
I smile
because I know that not everything is as it seems
and no matter how big the bombs
or loud the advertisements
or solid this concrete seems to be...

the worlds of magic are just behind the vail
itching to be noticed and noted
willing to be opened and focused
and giving with potent devotion...
because these anomalies we call humans
DO have some sort of unique spark
we DO hold a key
hidden in each of our hearts
that is necessary in the cosmic unfolding
one more nitch in the key
so that it fits
when we all come together...

and so I wander into the himilayan foothills
past the waterfalls and little baba caves...
past the stone carvings that stand solumn
with a gaze beyond ages
past the icey peaks and valleys
in order to sit with the snowlions
in wonder and reason
to fly with the dragons who wait so paciently
for the kinship to be remembered
and into the river
where I found my lover
flowing sweetly
and deeply into my body
as she invited me
into her's...


if I never return to you again
please know,
that the world into which I've wondered is magnificent...
and if you ever want to come
all you have to do is
close your eyes,
and take my hand...

"Being Deeply Loved by Someone Gives You Strength; Loving Someone Deeply Gives You Courage" -Lao Tzu

check my artist profiles at
www.myspace.com/goodfelllow
www.panjea.com/goodfelllow

is the art of changing consciousness at will.

- from the Fifth Sacred Thing, by Starhawk

"Oh, you should never, never doubt what nobody is sure about." - Willie Wonka

"Everything that is sacred and wishes to remain so must envelop itself in mystery."

- Stephane Mallarme, French Poet, 1862 -1898

"It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power." -- Alan Cohen

"I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees" - Deb Talan

"The sky where we live is no place to lose your wings so love, love, love." - Hafiz

"Synchronicity is when events, inner and outer, come together in a common center to give us meaning. A numinous force exists in each person's life to guide their destiny, even when they personally oppose it. Thus we have accidents, extraordinary luck, and the chance meetings and choices which turn out so crucial to our lives. Yet none of this magic is worth a penny unless we bring consciousness and CHOICE to it."

"Your task is to use synchronicity and choice to bring consciousness to your life."

“I would like to quote from a book that, with your help, I hope to write someday. It’s called the Dictionary of Tricky Love. Please listen to the definition for the term ‘radical intimacy.’ Ahem. Radical intimacy is a virtuoso art that requires me and my freaky consort to master two seemingly contradictory skills: naming and nurturing the highest, holiest best in each other, and thriving on the fact that our relationship will inevitable draw out and ask us to redeem each other’s ugliest ignorance.”

- From 'the Televisionary Oracle' by Rob Brezsny
(which I highly reccomend!)

“Smash the phallocracy with sympathetic grace”

--

“This world of Imagination is the world of Eternity; it is the divine bosom into which we shall go after the death of the Vegetated body. This World of Imagination is Infinite and Eternal, whereas the world of Generation, or Vegetation, is Finite and Temporal. There exists in that Eternal World the Permanent Realities of Every Thing which we see reflected in this Vegetable Glass of Nature. All Things are comprehended in their eternal Forms in the divine body of the Saviour, the True Vine of Eternity, the Human Imagination” - William Blake, from “A Vision of the Last Judgment” (as quoted in the Televisionary Oracle)

--

As far as the Goddess is concerned, beauty and truth fans, there’s no such thing as heterosexuality. No such thing as homosexuality or bisexuality, for that matter. Even bestiality does not go far enough. Nor does the flower-boinking of the early Gnostics, or the sky copulations of the Essenes, or the fist-fucking of the holy ocean by the ancient Sapphic cults.
As far as the Goddess is concerned, there is only Pantheosexuality. Also know as Polymorphous Perverse Omnidirectional Goddess-Caressing. All else is a lie, a obscene limitation. You can only be in mad loving lust with ALL of Goddess, not some of Her. To be in love with some and not all of Her is to be in love with none of Her.
Therefore, we will now begin the ritual of the World Kiss. We will apply our tender loving lips and tongues to every quivering portion of the Goddess’ outrageous joybody in this place. And we promise to keep uppermost in our emotions, with every mooch, a mood of demonic compassion, primordial sweetness, ironic sincerity, and blasphemous reverence. We will be always mindful that it’s not enough simply to perform the outer gesture’ we will aim to have heart-ons in all seven of our charkas.
Smacking our lips with a rat-a-tat of cartoon kisses, we glide over to the altar, which is built atop a giant old faux wood television. Here we do hereby kiss then, candles and pomegranates and chrysanthemums. We press our warm lips against thee too, whooping crane feather and Venus of Willendorf figurine and silver bowl filled with good rich earth from the garden. Black knife, gold coin, and toy rubber unicorn, come hither: We wish to anoint thee with our love. Necklace of tiny dove skulls, chalice filled with dragon blood, sacred wand fashioned from the rod inside the toilet: As we bestow on thee our moist butterfly jiggles, we channel the pulse of our heart-ons into every luscious atom of the Goddess’ sexy creaturehood.
But our Pantheosexual yearning does not end here. Onward! Torards new frontiers of kissability! Who or what offers itself up next to our osculatory worship? Djembe drum, thou strikes us as a pure embodiment of the Goddess’ love of functional beauty. We pay homage to thee with flickering licks. Black flag, we smother thee with our blazing snuggles. Maypole with the blue, red, yellow, and green ribbons, feel the fluttering graze of our undying devotion!
Though we’ve had erotic epiphanies while watching ruby-throated hummingbirds feeding from plum flowers, we’ve never enjoyed the shivering palpitations we feel now as we contemplate communion with the black carpet below us. As we swaddle thee with our yearning arms, dear carpet, we impregnate our shamanic intention deep into thy weave, deep into the lambs that sacrificed their wool for thee to live, deep into the hands that assembled thee.
At the foot of the altar, we slither our maws against ‘The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets’. We picture our righteous, tantrically sublimated kundalini, tinctured with heart medicine, spraying out the tops of our heads in a violet velvet cloud of blessing on every thought that was packed into thee, on the tree that died so that they paper might live, on every once of ink shaped into thy magic words.
To the doorknob and thw all sockets and the light switch and the dead fly on the window sill, we pledge our undying adoration’ and though we may later become separated in space, we will always remain joined in this exquisite embrace in eternity.
To the air itself, we send this message with our kisses: Since our particles and the particles were ripped asunder at the Big Band, we have fantasized obsessively of the rapturous reunion in which we now exult.
WE ARE THEE AND THEE ARE WE!

As a public service,
The Telebisionary Oracle
Reminds you of what Jesus said
In the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas:

‘If you give birth to the genius within you, it will free you.
If you do not give birth to the genius within you, it will destroy you.’”

--

“Oh scary genius,” I pray, “ you who are so mysterious I sometimes can’t tell the difference between your talents and your deficiencies: I will call you the queen of ‘wabi’, after the Japanese word referring to a beautiful flaw in a work of art that endows it with far more value than if it were merely perfect”

"I say to you this morning, that if you have never found something so dear and precious to you that you will die for it, then you aren't fit to live. You may be 38 years old, as I happen to be, and one day, some great opportunity stands before you and calls upon you to stand up for some great principle, some great issue, some great cause. And if you refuse to do it because you are afraid. You refuse to do it because you want to live longer. You're afraid that you will lose your job, or you are afraid that you will be criticized or that you will lose your popularity, or you're afraid that somebody will stab you or shoot you or bomb your house. So you refuse to take the stand. Well you may go on and live until you are ninety, but you are just as dead at 38 as you would be at ninety. And the cessation of breathing in your life is but the belated announcement of an earlier death of the spirit.

You died when you refused to stand up for right. You died when you refused to stand up for truth. You died when you refused to stand up for justice."

- Martin Luther King, Jr.

Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,

let them sleep.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
If you want to improve your mind that way,

sleep on.

I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.

If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,

and sleep.

-Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi

"Pure, pure, like the waters, let it run forever more.
To be clean, clean, as the waves come crashing to the shore,
it leaves me,
Smooth, smooth as a pebble, polished in the depths of love and
Carried by the winds of grace, on the wings of a dove."

-Shimshai

As the rose blooms amidst thorns, so great souls shine out through all opposition.

Bowl of Saki, by Hazrat Inayat Khan