Having had extensive, hundreds of hours of Dianetic and Scientology auditing and training have allowed me revelations and states of existence, prior, I was perhaps the Marvel Studio Dr. Strange type who believed a man is nothing more than a one off body of meat put into this realm to figure it out. "There is no such thing as spirit," says Dr. Strange to the Ancient One. "We are made of matter and nothing more. We are nothing but a tiny, momentary spec and in an indifferent universe." Then the Ancient One pushes Strange out of his body in an astral projection of himself and all his previous fixed ideas are blown! Mine, too, and right at the very first basic introductory level of reading a $5.00 book on the subject.
Most of my youth was spent performing in pop, rock and Blues bands that was good enough to earn a scholarship to the University of Miami's School of Music to study and learn among people like Will Lee, Bruce Hornsby, Pat Metheny, Narada Michael Walden, all sorts of locals and out of towners studying and working in a very vibrant South Miami, Miami, Miami Beach, Ft. Laud. in very well funded huge hotels and hot spots who hosted the top acts of the day -- Smokey, Franki Valli and the Four Seasons with Bob Gaudio during his last tour and many others. The horn section of the house band(s) I was in (there were house bands in those days working 5-6 nights a week, 4 sets a night, every holiday known to man with few breaks ... ever. But, my bass playing was fervent, funky enough and rockin' enough to play in bands for Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Head and others. But it was a losing proposition explained recently by David Stockman here: https://www.zerohedge.com/news/2018-01-03/unhinged-part-1-david-stockman-gops-fiscal-madness
What music was about is a quality of communication. For me, it was all about the Funk. The Funkier I got including general lifestyle of the tree hugging dope smoking hippie type living in a cheap, run down shack in Coconut Grove. To be funky one had to give it all the love one can give. The Funk, or playing professionally in the genres of Blues, Pop, Rock and Jazz involves one to be right in the moment, as vibrant and as muscular as one could make his/her voice. It involves listening as job no. one, then speaking your voice as accompaniment -- then the occasional solo which a Jaco-like solo was never my thing. I had and have a philosophy about music and all my heroes were mostly American black men and women who were the musicians behind acts like Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker, Otis Rush. I didn't need a college education to get that feeling and the feeling can not possibly emit from anywhere but from the soul of a man. I came to a point where all my biology teachers had absolutely no answers.
I'm not a good writer but I want to say that the only way I could let it fly, so I believed, was through smoking tons of marihuana (I like this spelling because it is so old school southern cracker). drinking cheap wine with the cats in Liberty City and Overtown and living like I was some righteous Rasta man or something. A bum, in other words. Now, this is not to take away from how I play music on the electric bass. I learned later the two are quite separable.
But I cleaned up my act when I met and worked with a very good friend of Jaco Pastorius, Scott Kirkpatrick at a Ft. Laud. show club complete with sparkling white monkey suit uniforms and a band where Scott and guitarist Gary Carter, fresh out of Army Reserve training with the bulging muscles and shaved heads ... who needed drugs? The band was expert, the show was good, the place was packed, I got laid alot and I was straight ... for a while.
Then everything went to shit and music jobs of any real merit disappeared. Perhaps I should have gone to NYC as Will Lee urged me to way back when. Or picked up and gone to Nashville to work in some contrived hat act's shtick and, having worked in actual show business, a bit in the record, film, TV and radio business, the politics was more than I was willing to endure. I stopped playing, got a haircut and got a job in my ailing father's small wholesale business covering for a while the entire state of Florida as a vendor to public and private schools, churches, synagogues, you name it. Did well but the costs to do business were higher than the money made. Representing a higher end product against the crap Bill Clinton's NAFTA allowed in put swift end to my very small business. And my marriage. But I am ahead of myself. I will continue in Pt. II, "Scientology done Blown my Fucking Mind Forever!"
In this age of AI, a renewed interest in alien intelligence, Space X, Bitcoin and technologies new and existing buried by vested interest, Scientology's time has come. It is time to lift the veils, the criminal lies against a technology that must be a part of a brand new world. As L. Ron Hubbard wrote, "A civilization without insanity, without criminals and without war, where the able can prosper and honest beings can have rights, and where Man is free to rise to greater heights, are the aims of Scientology."
Agree, disagree, whatever. The days of central banks, criminal governments, sex slavery, corrupt political parties paying for a media that does no investigation but is now a tool for highest bidder's narratives against anyone and anything standing in the way of someone's ill gotten power. I maintain Scientology technology (knowing how to know) time has come. Please comment, up/down vote, send some Litecoin to help the cause of not just Scientology but of news the mainstream media is intentionally refusing to cover like the recent shooting at a Florida public school, the truth behind the Las Vegas shootings, foreign influence in government (Russia, Hillary Clinton, Robert Mueller and Uranium One, etc.). LTC: LRUSvtVyJh9fmVfoRWiv3YnAypoJeuLnv2