Sunday, August 29, 2010

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Tuesday, August 24, 2010


The other day I woke up to discover I had no water.  It happens.  The wind blows, the electric blinks, and sometimes the circuit to the well pump doesn't come on and the result is no running water.  The problem is I have a shared well and the circuitry is in the neighbors basement and unless I or someone else breaks into their house it won't get fixed.

At any rate, I found myself needing to get ready for work and there's not enough water to make coffee let alone take a shower.  To make matters worse, I was working outside the day before in the heat and humidity and felt pretty scuzzy.

A quick inventory showed I had almost one full bottle of water and another bottle with about two cups.  I opted to take the nearly full bottle to work and make due with the remaining two cups, just enough to brush my teeth and take a whores bath.

My meager two cups of water was enough for me to get by that morning.  It bothered me that I couldn't get what I wanted when I wanted it but there was no hardship.  It was simply a little inconvenient and I knew I'd have a shower waiting for me when I got back.  After all, humans can go a whole day without water before any serious complications set in and this was only a temporary situation.  But still, I felt a deep reverence for this clear liquid that can easily be the only thing between life and death.  A human can last for weeks without food but more than a day without water can leave you in dyer straights, and dieing of thirst is an ugly way to go.  Imagine the hangover that finally kills you and you'll get the picture.

~Just a side note... I seem to be obsessed with water, lately.  Turning on every faucet I pass just to watch and feel the cool, colorless liquid flow over my hands and quaffing gallons a day, with or without ice. Later that day, when my running water was fully restored, I discovered I had more water on hand than I realized.  Five quarts in the fridge, a half gallon in the freezer, three gallons in the store room, and two quarts in my car.  Have I been subconsciously stocking up for a time when I'll really need it?

The day before, I watched a movie called The Book of Eli, about a post-apocalyptic world where a nuclear exchange left a large hole in the sky, allowing the sun's full force to fry and blister the landscape, making water an extremely precious commodity.  The movie's protagonist managed to get by, as did everyone else who still survived, with drops from long dead faucets, possessions from hygiene-free, cannibalistic low lifes, and the occasional feral cat.

We're a far cry from that scenario but survivors in that potential situation are infinitely more equipped to handle a lack of water than your typical post-baby boomer.  Today's McDonalds generation humanoid will go into melt down if their phone doesn't get a signal, or they don't get their HFCS/aspartame-laden fluid du jour, or be able to take 20 minute showers on demand.

We all tend to take for granted Earth's ability to provide an abundant supply of water through evaporation, the formation of clouds, and rain in a seemingly endless cycle of unlimited life-ensuring fluids that we think it's going to be this way til the end of time.

Perhaps, but doesn't the Mayan calendar say the end of time will arrive in a little more than a year?  Think we should stock up?   

Thursday, August 19, 2010

a nice pair

I've been working on an orgone pyramid with an inner core orb of extremely high density orgonite wrapped with a mobius coil.  I can't say I'm excited about the results. 

I don't take it as a failure.  I can learn from this, see where I went wrong, and try again.  After all, isn't that what life is all about?  We make mistakes and learn from that experience.  If you win every hand in poker, all that means is you're playing cards with idiots and you'll never improve your game unless you play with people who know what they're doing.

On the other hand, I improved my gardening skills by playing with this canuck farm girl who, apparently, knows more about soil than I know about orgonite.  

I found a watermelon and a honeydew in the garden today.  There was a cantaloupe but that went through my GI tract yesterday and, I gotta tell ya, that was the sweetest cantaloupe I've had in a long while, and if these melons are anything like the cantaloupe, I'll consider that a fair trade for an orgonite failure.

I guess there IS balance in the universe.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

parle vu frappe?

Did you ever have the feeling you needed something but didn't have a clue what it was?  I'm talking about that hunger for a particular taste that totally escapes your appetite memory banks.  You head for the kitchen to forage.  Is it a salad?  Ice cream?  Pizza?  Big Mac?  Beans and rice?  Damn, the list is endless and after trying everything you realize nothing on hand is what your appetite wants.  It's like trying to remember the name of your third grade teacher.  It's on the tip of your mind but you just can't seem to grab hold of it.  Thoughts of Wendy's, Long John Silver's, and Vesuvio's pizza run through your mind as you discard each of their menu selections as not quite what your body craves.  You go back to the basics and ask yourself if you want something wet or salty or sweet or pungent or sour and you dismiss them all as not quite right.

Your choices are clear.  1. You can eat everything and feel full but not fulfilled or, 2. you can continue to go through your appetite repertoire in an endless roster of everything you ever tasted since childhood from your first sip of cold coffee to the fruit cup you had after dinner last night.

You remember the last time you chose number 1.  You probably pigged out on cold lasagna and Hershey bars topped with Ready Whip.  The leftover fried squash didn't do it for you so you moved on to potato chips and mustard, only to realize these vial concoctions just don't ring any bells.  As you lay on the floor, ankle deep in detritus from canned cream corn and empty pop tart wrappers, your underwear-clad body in a fetal position with a coke in one hand and a wedge of cabbage in the other, you realize the craving is still there and you have no more room in your distended stomach for one more pirogi with sour cream.

Let's not go there again.

My search took me down the road where the stench of over-cooked McDonalds, Taco Bell, and Burger King pseudo-meat is wafting through the air.  I stared dreamily at the golden arches as if a frappe was the answer.  No such luck.

In a state of half-dead starvation I wandered down the grocery isles in a drunkards walk of appetite unfulfillment.  Staring at housewives shopping carts and crashing into day old bread racks, I noticed what looked like a baguette and then it came to me like an angelic blast.  I grabbed the baguette and headed to the specialty cheese section and frantically searched for the brie.

On the way home I glanced at the bread and cheese on the passenger seat and wondered if I had enough butter.  No time for second guessing.  I'm on a mission.

Once home, I got out my best steak knife and sliced that bread from stem to stern, opened it, slathered soft butter on both sides, and stuffed that sucker with thick slices of brie and took a bite.

All I can say after that is, thank God for the French.

Friday, August 13, 2010

orgonite octahedron

With the outstanding success of Jupiter 2 and the caduceus field generator, I wondered how cascading densities would affect a passive, orgonite octahedron, so I got a brand new can of 3M resin and some metal and got busy.

The pic to the left is an inner pyramid made of extra high density orgonite material with a large citrine crystal in the center.  The larger pyramid consists of medium density orgonite with a crystal at each point.

On its own, extra high density orgonite won't do anything unless it's stimulated in some way, and sometimes even frequency won't get it to run, like the caduceus field generator before the tiles.  
(That's the main reason I like powered devices so much... they really kick ass when you turn them on.)

Then there's the medium density stuff that just happily hums along transmuting DOR to POR, as any orgone experimenter will gladly concur.  This is the mixture TBs and HHGs are made of that orgone warriors all over the world have been launching at cell phone towers, HAARP facilities, polluted waters, Dick Cheney's house and every other place that has concentrated bad vibes.  A few negative strongholds are yet to be gifted (and I do mean yet) such as The White House, The Fed, FDA headquarters, and some of the Rockefeller compounds, which explains something about our downhill slide into oblivion... but I digress.

Anyway... Since medium density orgonite operates all by itself without any need for stimulation, it should be enough to activate this inner core of extra high density stuff.

The completed unit has six quarts crystals, one at each point, and an inner core with a citrine at the center to keep the other crystals fresh.  You'd think that would be enough for anyone, right?  Well, not for me.  Last night I set it over Jupiter 2, fired it up, and charged it over night.  Surprisingly, it's still tingling after twelve hours in a passive mode.

The question is, how long will this unit continue to operate at this level?

I'll keep ya posted. 

Monday, August 09, 2010

caduceus orgone field generator

A while back I made a torus using only sub-micron metal particles, resin, and a large, caduceus mobius coil in the center.  The idea, at the time, was extremely dense orgonite might severely kick ass if a caduceus mobius was involved.

Sadly, the damned thing didn't work, no matter what I did, and it sat on the bench back burner for months.

I discovered fresh orgonite tiles made with the clear resin I've been using is just pliable enough to bend around an object like this caduceus field generator.  After a few hours it sets up hard as a rock but the curing time is slow enough that you can work with this stuff.  During this curing time, you can cut it with a knife and shape it without too much trouble.

Needless to say, the outside medium density tiles make all the difference and powered up this thing rocks!  The energy this unit puts out is most impressive, especially since I forgot to include a core device for the unit to work on.  Throw in a crystal and this thing is extreme!  I mean huge amounts of pinpoint laser energy with a crystal amplifier extreme.  

Since these densities aren't cast with the material, and can be removed, I can clearly prove the effectiveness of cascading densities in a powered unit without having to build one from scratch.  Increasing the power is as easy as adding another layer of tiles.  Theoretically, the medium density orgonite should work in a passive mode well enough to power the inner torus without any frequency at all.

It looks like I'll be busy on this for a few days.

Saturday, August 07, 2010

orgone tiles

The question is... how do you encase a crystal in orgonite without making it a permanent part of the piece?

The inner crystal needs to be compressed to work properly, and the orgonite does that rather well by compressing the crystal while it cures.  Since compression is key, I thought about making orgonite tiles to fit around the crystal and compressing them with a coil, then fitting a toroid mobius around the whole thing.  It occurred to me that using the mobius for compression would eliminate a step so I settled on a caduceus for the mobius.

I started out by making a tile from powdered metals and clear resin and slicing it into six equal pieces.  Since every quartz crystal has six sides, the tiles fit perfectly and made a most excellent compression on the crystal.

Orgonite tiles, made in this fashion, opens a whole world of uses from orgonite cocktail coasters to your own personal orgonite shower stall.  Now THAT sounds like an interesting idea.  An orgone accumulator-like chamber you use every day for 20 minutes, plus you have that water thing going.

I wonder if I can make a light weight, portable unit?   

Thursday, August 05, 2010

rocky horror

I just saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show... for the thousanth time... and I came to the conclusion the human race is about as important as a stream of urine in a toilet bowl.

I knew there was a reason I hated that movie as much as I loved it.

Wednesday, August 04, 2010