Exposed 2.0

I am not in Vancouver. I never went to Vancouver. If I had booked a flight to Vancouver, both Jordan and Heather would be figuring what to whip up for dinner when the pilgrim lands. In fact, if I wanted to go to Vancouver tomorrow I couldn't because my passport expired three years ago and since the age of fear, lies and corruption kicked into high gear shortly after the turn of millennium, you can't just cruise across the border anymore to visit our wonderful, musical, whimsical, peace loving Canadian neighbors. "May I see your papers?" Here, I got your papers, Dick Cheney!

I was flummoxed when John Edwards pulled out (sorry) of the race when he was still very much a viable Democratic candidate. Now I understand. John's third leg got the best of his third eye. The vetting was just a matter of time. We cannot hide anymore. None of us. The ramp up to 2012 demands, above all, truth. Watch carefully as the Olympic Games unfold over the coming two weeks. See if the Chinese government and can really squash the dissemination of content, beyond the fireworks, medals and athletic miracles. My mom just told me someone connected to an American team coach was knifed by (consult Walter from Big Lebowski for proper nomenclature) 'an Asian American.' Bring on the darkness. Bring it on from far and wide. Cause when it arrives, we got the light to send its ass back to the abyss from whence it came.

The Republicans probably sprung major wood from the Edwards revelation but they can't act, they can't gloat, they can fire sticks and stones because that would expose them and their once nobel leader, Newt Gingrich, who had an affair while HIS wife was dying of cancer. The saddest thing here is the hypocrisy. We want to march Edwards into the town square, strip him naked, rub peanut butter on his nuts and let loose the rats. But that pervert from Utah is still casting votes in the Senate after looking for man love in an airport toilet stall. What's worse? A man and woman sharing a loving embrace or an aging misanthrope trying to get a hummer where men dispose their waste?

The closer we get to completely insanity, the closer I believe we're getting to full exposure. And exposure leads directly or indirectly to enlightenment and an ultimate encore for mankind on Planet Rock. I was informed last week by a photographer friend deeply connected in the ways of the 'secret' society that the U.S. government is beginning to every so deliberately, reveal UFO materials that have been gathering in clandestine office files for half a century. Now whether this is related to the up click in sightings (did you see that hovercraft over Texas? Cool, but who knows with today's manipulative technology), that's for individual assessment. We're going to start seeing things that don't make sense under normal conditions because the definition of normal is about to undergo a face lift that would send both Joan Rivers and Morgan Fairchild running for Bruce Dickinson's hills.

There is a rationale for keeping secrets. Not everything should be laid on the table for public examination or private contemplation. We are living in an accelerated, blog happy culture, where social networking and online dating have become the normal avenues of communication. For shits, giggles and curiosity, a few weeks ago I filled out a profile for chemistry.com. But the minute they asked for coin, I abandoned it. And yet these messages keep appearing in my in box, but when I try to open up and see who this lady is that so curious about me, I'm asked for cash or no enter. Last Thursday, Rick Levine at Tarot.com who 'reads' my stars like no other, laid out in no uncertain terms that the wave of good energy and opportunity currently starting to break on my broken glass laden beach, is NOT complete. There's something missing. SHE is missing. Rick doesn't read my My Space messages. He knows not of the love I experience in this wordy wonderland each day. But I took the cue and headed another $99 in debt for a three month peek behind the curtain.

I loathe to get overly excited about this adventure because I'm getting busy again and new fascinating creatures are appearing organically but all that being said, I will not easily abandon my alone again naturally Gilbert o' Sullivan drama-less lifestyle. It took a lot of sweat blood loss words and tears to achieve my own state of exposure. Rome is about to burn and I'm inviting Lili Haydn to fiddle. "Healing the Soul through Rock n' Roll" is the subtitle to my friend. Laura Faeth's new book, I Found All the Parts. It's coming out this fall and I'm going to help her get the word out because it took courage to compose a new age homage to the power of music. I've just begun reading so I can't offer much more right now but I certainly will later. The mere Synchronicity that delivered this Colorado wife/mother/rocker/space traveler to my virtual doorstep demanded my attention. Follow the universal bread crumbs and you will not only be led out of the forest but fed along the way.

"Rome is burning/me I'm watching/men are learning." That Springsteen lyric just soared off the Shuffle and into this blog. What did I say about the messages? Don't fear the exposure as you did not fear BOC's reaper. Bernie Mac is dead but he made us laugh while he was here. I'm spending hours with a bunch of Rejects from Oklahoma. Getting paid to observe the creative process again while the creators are still likable, human...exposed. Stop by later. I've got a tupperware full of breadcrumbs in the fridge. And what's mine is yours. You know, I think I posted a blog by the name Expose a couple years ago but I'm too lazy (or in the moment) to trace the archive. That was then, anyway, and this is now. Hope you dig the new version and its updated features.