981 South Arapahoe Street
Los Angeles, CA 90006
Started this 1 March 1981
(213) 384-7888 (Landlord's
I'm going for all I know. You can help me. Come near me, and know
me; come and spend the night, as I bet my life, hoping to win; come and
take my hand; take me around, and I'll take your hand. Come feel my ecsta-
sy, that I may share with you what I have to offer.
I wrote the following words to Marie Osmond, around Christmastime,
1980: I missed your debut, but I caught your act on December 19. You put
together a cute show, but as I've said before, I don't need to be enter-
tained. I've got better entertainment within than anything I've seen
anywhere else. The kingdom of heaven is not (likely) something one is
likely to see on T.V., at least not with the censors cutting out anything
that might be objectionable to the moneyed interests which control what is
to be shown.
The last time I was in Orem, I couldn't get past the security guards
sicked on me. This time I'm on my way to L.A. to find 144,000 long-haired,
pot-smoking, acid-head, rock 'n roll freaks, who want to follow me wherever
I go, as in Revelation 14:1 to 5. With an army of this caliber, what I say
and do should carry a little more weight than just me by myself. I'm
looking for those who have the same feeling (the same spirit) residing
within as I have. With these by my side, God-within-me will be able to
turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to
their fathers, which will eliminate the idol worship (and other sins)
responsible for the problems Mother Earth is carrying upon her shoulders.
If you want to be my Dream Girl, try to imagine what Robin Hood,
Tarzan, Jesse James, an Apache Indian Chief, King David, the commander of
the heavenly armies, and the Fool On The Hill would be like, living in the
same body, as I have sought wisdom, madness, and folly that I should know
what the sons of men should do all the days of their lives, and I have seen
that all is vanity, which sight is what will cause the storm to blow, the
houses to fall, and the elements to melt, destroying all but those who
stand upon the Bridge That Just Can't Be Burnt, which ones take part in the
First Resurrection, for which they are blessed.
I could go on and on rejoicing in what is unseen. It is my duty to
distribute the blessings of God, by bringing into visible reality that for
which there are no words to express, and I've only just begun to do the
things Jesus didn't do.
[continue on to next letter]
981 South Arapahoe Street
Los Angeles, CA 90006
Started this 1 March 1981
(213) 384-7888 (Landlord's
There are some songs coming across with a rather confused message,
i.e., "Missed Again" "I can touch you, but I don't know how to love you"
"We're like two ships passing in the night." It seems like we get our
signals crossed, somehow or other. So, I'll restate the qualifications for
the work we are about to perform:
A man of God needs to live in an atmosphere of peace, sobriety, quiet-
ness, meditation and prayer; that is, a consecrated private life alone with
He must be attentive, loving, simple, and respectful in his social and
public life, with a soft, concise, and profitable conversation.
He must feel responsible of being always punctual, serious, and peni-
tent in his devotional life, feeling the Divine presence, and warmth of the
Holy Ghost, during all sacred worship.
A man of God must be firm, serious, just, penitent, impartial, and he
must not ever accept less from himself.
Summing up, he must show Divine Justice as an identification of his
A Christian or spiritual man (one of the 144,000) has the duty of
knowing these five points mentioned above, that his life may be read by all
Christian life practiced in this way is the proper foundation of a man
of God, and it results in a spiritual magnet to bring others to Jesus.
This will result in a true Christian life during all your time, and
wherever you may be; this is the only way we can not only be ready when
Jesus comes, but rise up to meet him on the Stairway to Heaven . . . the
Highway in the Sky.
We need to live according to a permanent, loyal, and true spiritual
life. Try to know this life, and live it.
All nature is at pleasure to serve; the cloud serves; the wind serves;
the furrow serves; the birds, animals, and insects serve, each in their own
Where there is a tree to plant, plant it; where there is an error to
correct, correct it; where there is a task that nobody will accept, accept
Be the one who removes the rock aside from the road, the hate away
from between hearts, and the objections of a problem. There is the happi-
ness of being healthy, and the happiness of being just; but above all,
there is the happiness of serving others. Seek not to be called to do only
easy tasks. It is so beautiful to do what others won't.
According to the Word of God, we have to be peaceful and belligerent
at the same time, but we always have a permanent hostility . . . if we are
disunited from Christ . . . Christ being the spirit of love, by which men
are able to live together in harmony.
Do you want to know how to pacify, and what you need to fight against
Satan, without fighting, simultaneously? When you see criticism, protest,
and opposition, say: success and progress. While criticism and protest
damage the practicer, it profits and encourages he who receives it with
simplicity and no preoccupation. When you hear, or know of, someone who
criticizes you, don't worry about the prejudice, or your (soul) morale may
suffer; be glad, and say: profit for my soul.
Receive criticism spiritually and instead of illness, it will adjust
you unto health. When you are sure that someone criticizes you, be moved
to mercy and say, "I'm sorry for you, poor, mistaken brother, because while
you pretend to harm me, you are destroying yourself, morally and spiritual-
ly." "With your criticism your soul is damaged, and my own has profited."
"There is more blessing in being criticized than in criticizing." "After
many years of criticizing, you have lost, and I have gained." "I wish
wholeheartedly that you might gain also, and receive what you have lost."
When a man is contradicted and criticized unjustly, God confirms that
injustice granting unto him progress and success. And this is the result
of criticism. So have I grown from a wishy washy Charlie Brown, to a man
who can stand on his own two feet against the world. What I prepare for
you, within my house, is nobody's business but my own, and now, nobody
cares anymore. I can't get anybody to take interest in Real Truth, or True
Reality, so I've stopped trying, and now, I suddenly move much easier
through life on Earth. I have yet to become a successful person in the
eyes of the world, but I feel infinitely better about everything, and my
life isn't over yet. I've only just begun to live! Now, from this dis-
tance, I will begin to show you why you always run away from me. I trust
that it will be warm, and mellow, for you . . . instead of like touching a
A song asks, "Where have you been so long? I've waited all my life to
feel so strong." I had to learn the language of my trade; otherwise it
would still be gibberish to you. "IT" didn't come overnight, or all at
once. I had no one to instruct me, or help me in any way whatsoever. I
could learn only by time-consuming trial and error, introspection, medita-
tion, and prayer. I've been doing my best to make myself seen, heard, and
felt, but schizophrenic detachment has prevented the Lonesome Loser from
being known, except as a "joke of the neighborhood." I don't have a manag-
er to help me use my energy more efficiently; I can only do what I think
of. I don't think like anybody else, so I don't act like anybody else
would in the same set of circumstances; that is, what I think of as being
"super fun" has no effect in this world, and I must adjust myself to what
The intervening years, between the fall of the Haight-Ashbury Scene
and now, has had the effect of cutting down the number of "people wanting a
piece of the cake." Those who had impatient spirits are gone, while those
who are patient are still around.
Gordon Lightfoot sings, "Does anyone know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes into hours?" The love of God goes into a
spatial time-warp, to enjoy what was in the beginning, is now and ever
shall be, sort of like entering a mouse hole, to rest between the walls of
the rooms (visible reality) where ordinary people carry on their lives, and
I'm able to live without the trouble they have. This feeling makes me want
to open a bar called, The Mouse Hole, that I may share my experience with
The Who sing, "Who are you? I really want to know." I'm Ruby
Tuesday, changing every day, as I just couldn't find a role I wanted to
play. I had a ticket to ride, but I didn't care, because I don't follow
the crowd. I go my own way against all advice to the contrary, holding out
for something better, as intimated by Jackson Browne.
When the hippies said, "Do your own thing," that's what I did, and
they didn't like it. They were no different than the lukewarm Christians,
from whom the hippies had hoped to separate themselves. We go MY WAY,
forgetting all about what once was, or we're going to stay here, where
we're at, like we are. I'm not going to have the same old leaven rising,
and producing the same old problems, all over again. That's how I wish to
be the Greatest Among You, by being your servant.
Jesus says, "There are not enough words to express what is prepared
for you in paradise, etc." I tried to work a miracle by expressing what is
impossible to say, which didn't work because nobody could understand a
thing I said. But, what the miracle turned out to be is, that which every-
body said I couldn't do has now become a lump of clay in my hands, and I
can form it into anything I want, and if those who don't like it don't get
the Gospel in them, somehow or other, Satan will put 'em out of their
misery, when he gets his hands on 'em. He feels the same way I do, and he
won't like you a damn bit better than I do. Fear him . . . if not anybody
else. You better change your mind, before it's too late!
I'm Uncle Joe, who was afraid to cut the cake, because I couldn't
indulge in the promiscuous fornication of "free love" and I cut myself off
from those who did so. In prison, from 1973 to 1977, I was able to work it
out within myself about how to make unmarried love, without committing
fornication, which I passed on to Olivia Newton-John when She (asked) sang,
"Is there anyone out there who can let his light shine?" which is how this
unworthy servant dug up his buried talent and put it to the exchangers,
that my Lord should have his own with usury (as according to Matthew 25:14
to 30) and is also how I have returned to my first work, that He should not
remove my candlestick from its place, as in Revelation 2:1 to 7.
Jesus says, "In the kingdom of heaven, they neither marry, nor give in
marriage." Only those who share it with me will know what we do, which
will make peace among the uninitiated, heathenish, mortal men . . . and
they know not how or why.
I was justified when I was five, just like Elton John, and I had a
neighborhood full of little girls, with whom I played Doctor and Stink
Finger. I work at making The Dream Come True, for which purpose I was
I wish for one hundred female rock performers, with their bands, and
seven male rock groups. With these, the rest of the Dream is just a heart-
I guess that the miracle you people are waiting to see is, whatever
will make the other people sit up and take notice. So, I have set The
Second Walter Cronkite as my goal. You set 'em up, with their kids, behind
their backs, and I'll push 'em over from the front: just like they did to
me, in the schoolyard.
Amy Holliman sings, "Little boy, I don't want to be a loser. How can
I make you love me?" You can make me love you by dropping everything, and
getting your tail over here as fast as you can; by attaching yourself to
me, and not letting me live without you.
707 sings, "I could be good for you. What you do now is my concern.
Just tell me how you survive out there." I collect $400 a month total
disability on Social Security, because I'm crazy, can't get along with
anybody, and can't hold a job, so I don't have to do anything except what I
want to do, which is my reward for practicing what Jesus instructed. I
stay stoned on marijuana, scoring from my landlord. I pay $60 a month to
live in an attic storeroom, and when I'm broke I eat the free food at the
missions. By the grace of God, I'm able to survive the attacks of those
who hated the prophets, but most of the time I just trip out, here in my
mouse hole, because I feel better by myself than I do with people who don't
understand, because I don't cause myself any trouble.
A song says, "Is it any wonder I've got so much time on my hands? I
don't know what to do with so much time on my hands." I could be good for
you, by showing you how to spend your time for your beneficial enjoyment,
as I dropped out of society in 1967, and I haven't done anything "construc-
tive" since then. I have over thirteen years' experience at making myself
happy, like a little child does. I live essentially the same as I did 39
or 40 years ago, before I knew anything about the world; the major differ-
ence of myself then, and myself now, being: I can now read, write, count,
and express myself in ways I couldn't do then; I don't have any parents
over me, telling me what to do, and I can come and go as I please; I'm
bigger, stronger, can take more punishment, and nobody can scare me away
from what I want; I now smoke cigarettes, and drink coffee, where I
couldn't stand those things in my early years.
A song says, "Take the good with the bad. Who loves you, Baby?" My
Father in heaven, and his son, Jesus Christ, are the only ones I know who
love me, as they enhance my good, and either forgive, or change, my bad.
Everyone else stays away from me. I didn't ever think of myself as
anything less than a member of my Father's family, and what kind of a
father would disown his son? Not my Father in Heaven! He takes better
care of me than I can do for myself, and I'm perfectly willing to let him
keep on doing it.
Smokey Robinson sings, "They tell me all about your heartbreak medita-
tions. I don't care what they say or do. I don't care about anything else
but being with you, etc." My thoughts make me feel good. I don't know why
they should break anybody's heart, except if a person is unrighteous, and
he wants to keep on living that way.
The message I'm trying to impart to you is that there is a righteous
way to use drugs, sex, and other things of the world. There is a better
way to do anything, and everything, than the way mankind does it. I have
survived all the pitfalls faced by Charlie Manson, Janis Joplin, Jimmy
Hendrix, Brian Jones, Elvis Presley, and others. I'm free, and I live like
no one else has ever done before me, because I know the truth which enables
me to bypass anyone, or anything, that tries to stop me.
I wish to be the Psychedelic Pastor of the Rock 'n Roll Religion. I
wish to be greatest among you by serving you the food of the gods, as I
have received it from the hand of my Lord Jesus. If those who believe in
drugs and rock 'n roll would live the way I know is possible to do, we
would change the world for the better, and even Satan would enjoy it.
Jackson Browne sings, "My eyes cannot see the sky. Is this the price
for learning how not to cry?" Revelation 3:18 tells you to buy gold tried
in the fire, that you may be rich; buy white clothing that your nakedness
may be hidden, and anoint your eyes with eye-salve that you may see.
ELO sings, "It's a living thing. What a terrible thing to lose." And
Paul McCartney says almost the same thing by, "It's coming up, like a
flower. You better believe it." You're not kidding. Anyone who misses
out on this would've been better off if they hadn't ever been born.
Elton John sings, ". . . and I knew then that I lost what should've
been found. Can't we patch it up?" Ask, and you shall receive. Come, and
consult with your pastor. We can make it right.
Toto sings, "I never thought it would happen. I never knew it would
work out. I don't want to hurt you anymore." You're forgiven. Climb
One song says, "It's too tight." And a chick sings, "I need a lover
who won't drive me crazy." Before I tightened up on it, it was too loose,
and you guys kept hollering, "Where are you? Save me! I'm going down for
the last time." What you need is a lover who can show you how to enjoy the
craziness, and you gotta be willing to watch, accept, and learn how to go
with the flow, or you'll be left outside where there shall be weeping and
gnashing of teeth. It hurts only as long as you don't understand it, and
when you get past the pain, it'll be all right. If you become discouraged,
and run away, you won't ever come to understanding, which would be a worse
curse than anything you know now. I take you through the Strait Gate.
Look it up in the dictionary; strait means troublesome or distressing.
Anyone who reacts negatively to the trouble I cause him is not acting
according to the principles of righteousness, and he must either stop doing
that, or suffer the consequences. When he leaves my consciousness, he's
beyond my help. This is how the sheep and the goats, the good and the bad,
are separated, as the good do not try to hurt me for any wrong they think
I've done. My landlord is this way, or I wouldn't be able to stay here, as
I've put him through three or four trials in the couple months I've been
staying here, and he graciously explained what he expected of me every
The communists in El Salvador will go to work in Nicaragua, Honduras,
and Guatemala, to spread north and south from there. If we (the rock 'n
roll community) can turn the hearts of fathers to their children, and the
hearts of children to their fathers (as in Malachi 4:5) with our message,
then we could stop the communists in their tracks, by offering something
better than what they have (which even they would not refuse) and by this,
we could prevent the earth from being smitten by the curse of Satan
whipping the unbelievers into subjection for 3 1/2 years; this is how we
can save the world from destruction prophesied, for which purpose I've been
a Hold Out, against everyone who tried to entice me to go their way. To
this end, I wish the Body of Christ (the 144,000) to come together, and
Fleetwood Mac sings something like, "When you build your house, call
me, and I'll come around." The address in the letterhead is where I've
built my house, and you can come around anytime you want. I have no phone,
and this house has no doorbell, so you have to wait until someone goes
through the front door, and ask for me, or phone my landlord and leave a
message for me, or write me a letter, telling me when you'll be around.
I saw Blazing Saddles tonight, March 16, 1981. If this is what I've
inspired you to do, you've done a good job with it. Making people laugh at
the grossness of burps, farts, etc., will help make the world better,
because people won't get mad at these things as much as they used to. This
is doing good work as peacemakers, but we're still less than half-way
I just saw Close Encounters of the Third Kind, March 17th. What it
means to me is that we gotta keep doing what we do; i.e., getting stoned,
being ourselves, for which people call us weird, playing our music, and
enjoying the interplay of the forces and emotions we bring into being.
Those who object will die. Some day we will be free of all restrictions,
trouble, hang-ups, disease, inconsistencies, injustice, wars, lies, greed,
hatred, fear, etc. Some people think that these won't ever end, but they
are fooling themselves.
Some people strive to not let heaven happen, because they are afraid
that things will be boring when everything's perfect and there's no more
problems. This is only one of the many fallacies, in people's heads, which
we must work to straighten out. Perfection (like the morning sun) will
burn away the fog obscuring people's vision, which will allow them to see
things to do, that previously had been hidden from sight, which will have
the effect of creating a greater need for genius and ingenuity, supplying
more, higher and higher, for eternity, because there is no end of knowl-
Neil Young sings something like, "I can really love, if you dance
while I play." The Prodigal Son's party will be when I can do the Horizon-
tal Bop in the fire without moving a muscle, while you get down on your
music. There just ain't no party until we share the same space, and jam
our hearts out.
One song says, "You made the wine, now drink the cup." Barbara and
Barry sing, "What kind of fool tears it apart, leaving me in pain and
sorrow?, etc." I'm saved by hope. I hope for what is unseen, and I pa-
tiently wait for it. But if I give up my dream, to salvage your feelings,
what then shall I hope for? See Romans 8:16 to 39. I can promise you that
those who live with me, put up with me, and suffer with me, shall live to
see all tears wiped away when sorrow shall be no more. This is what sepa-
rates those with faith from those who have no faith. What you do is the
work you will be known by. I must caution you that, "Your love is all
wrong when you sing a lonely song."
A song says, "You supply the night, Baby. I'll supply the love." The
night is what I do, while everyone else is asleep. This is how I come like
a thief in the night, and I'm gone before anyone knows what happened, which
is what I share with you, knowing that I got it, and it makes me feel
goooood! In another sense, the night is our playing like children, who
don't need to go home, and we can play all night long, while no
unconscious, mortal man can work; like, he's on welfare, because we supply
all his needs; he doesn't need to do anything but what he wants to do, and
the closer we can get to him, the better he will feel about it, and we must
not ever forget that that's the seeds we sprang from, and we must rescue
everyone we can touch at the lowest level I could reach, as I can testify
that I've met more worthwhile people there than anywhere else I've been,
and it took a lot to make me stop wanting to go back there, no matter how
many coral reefs, sharks, octopuses, manta rays, barracudas, and numerous
other enemies whom I had to pass on the way to the Octopus' Garden, where I
could meet those who love me, where the criminals, outlaws, lawless, wild,
and free are tied down the most, and still find room enough to groove on
our shared fellowship, day to day, with no outside interference, down in
the pressures where nothing but "us" can live. At "our" discretion, "we"
will trade places, with "ourselves," and "we" will dive down to the Octo-
pus' Garden, and drive "us" out, because that's the best place to be, and
the beast with the deadly wound will rise out of the sea.
"There was a time when we were starting over. What kind of fool tears
it apart--etc." I'm always starting over. This kind of fool tears it
apart, how do you think I started on my trip to prison, where after I got
past the pain, it was all right. How do you think I managed to get my
mentally disabled pension for the rest of my life, and I don't ever have to
do anything but what I now do, except if I should happen to do something
else, to keep the interest going, for your sake or my own, intermittently.
When I take it for myself, because I'm able to, the "ol' man" is a bastard,
in your sight. When you feel that way, you'd better sit on your hands,
count to ten, and do anything else you gotta do to control yourself.
Surely, by now, you know the punishment for striking an officer. I'll
expose you when I know you, so you'd better change your mind before we
meet. Get down on your knees, in the privacy of your own room, shut in
your closet, and ask the Lord Jesus to forgive your sins; ask him to show
you what you need to do to satisfy every debt, enemy, and problem you have
caused for yourself, until you can see the way through dangerous waters by
yourself, and you no longer have any fear of traversing the waters, which
happens to be the air of earth to me, and I feel better in outer space,
which has the same effect as the pressures below the sea, making a black
hole, which turns everything into nothing and back again, just by weaving
back and forth in time to the music, and I don't have to be on earth at
all, except when I decide that something must be done about the conditions
here, at which time Jesse James, Robin Hood, Tarzan, Nannayunk, King David,
Moses, and Enoch, will make an attack on the Evil Sheriff of Nottingham,
leaving Howdy Doody at home in the forest, confident that no one will be
able to come upon him unawares, which is the same confidence we had experi-
enced in our cell, in prison, at 3 o'clock in the morning.
If a girl wants me, she's gonna have to prove it to me, by touching
me, and making me know she exists. I couldn't ever choose a girl for
myself. I always chose one who didn't like me, so I quit doing it. I
ain't gonna chase after a piece of pussy. I got better things to do. I'll
just wait until somebody wants to be with me. That's all I can do about
anything involving people. If your love isn't enough to make you feel
sorry about what I go through by myself, enough to make you want to com-
fort, protect, and help me to avoid these things, then it doesn't mean very
much to me either, and I can get along without anyone who won't face them
with me, to help me change things for the better, by making sure that this
kind of thing doesn't happen to anyone else. That's my business, and I
work at it.
On this thirteenth page, which is the number of my tribe, I say,
Blessed are those who waded through several pages of uninspired writing to
get to the "heart of the matter." That's "me," as it's my heart that
pushes you to be the way you are. As your chief, I decide what treasure is
worth the trouble to rescue from the world, and you are strong enough to
help me take it and hold it against all opposition; that's why we need the
whole body to work together, because anything less won't have strength,
knowledge, or experience to hold whatever advantage has been gained. But
let me tell you that I had to do it in order to find that this is the truth
of the matter, before I could know what I need to solve the problems
related to the success of the venture. I've got a million and one such
ventures, and one doesn't ever know which one is coming up next. When we
take the last one, that'll be a good jumping off place, into Something
Else, either into the sea, or out into space. That's the only choice "we"
got. (chuckle) What, me worry? Who could be so faithless as to suggest
such a thing? What could go wrong? Anyone who stands in my way hurts
himself, not me. He's like a lamp post on the street corner. It's my
energy that makes him shine his light so I can see him standing there.
Pablo Cruise sings something like, "What are you going to do?" Why do
you want to know? You didn't tell me what you were going to do when you
left me standing in the alley, at the stage door. I'll tell you what I'm
going to do. I'm going to tell you a story. A young Indian boy, 12 years
old, was sitting on a low wall, outside a McDonald's joint, waiting for his
big sister to come out of McDonald's with food to take home. The boy
watched as an old man came shuffling along, stopped in front of McDonald's
and picked up whole Pall Mall cigarette which had been broken into three
pieces by people walking on it. The old man sat on the wall, about three
feet from the boy. The old man took a cigarette paper from his pocket,
bandaged the broken cigarette, and put a match to it, and enjoyed the
cigarette in perfect peace and relaxation. The man leaned over, touched
the boy on the shoulder, and said to the boy, "Respect for age is a fine
thing; by it, you shall have a long and happy life." The boy smiled, and
the man went on his way, grateful to the Lord, for the opportunity of being
an example for the boy to follow throughout his years. That's what you
need, respect for your elders; respect for a crazy, old fool, who has
feelings, the same as you do. Is anything so important that you have to
pretend that the old guy is worth no more consideration than a fly, which
you brush away with a sweep of your hand? How much you think it's worth,
to the Lord, to see that you don't do the same thing to anybody else? Be
careful with your answer, for by it shall you live or die. If you think
I'm kidding, try me. This is like a showdown, on the street of an old
western town, and I'm calling you out. You're either going to draw that
hog-leg from its holster, or risk the shame of being called a coward for
the rest of your life. You say you didn't mean it, that you won't do it
again? You gotta show me, man. This is what everyone must face, when I
meet them; change, or die. There is no other way out of this world, and
you can't stay here, because that would be a fate worse than death, which
is what the women say about rape. But, for all I know, your impatience
might not have allowed you to read these words. That doesn't matter.
You're going to find out one way or another. You'll be lucky, if one of
your friends tells you about it.
When everyone I meet has come to this same moment in his life, and has
decided to live with me the way I do it, instead of following his own
foolish way, things will be more far-out than anything you know about at
the moment. My foolish way is better than yours. Nyaa, Nyaa.
How could I treat you as anything less than angels, when that's what I
want you to become? Who but an angel can tell me how to advance toward
him, before he meets me? As the Lord has told me, so have I been able to
advance this far on my own into enemy territory, without any help from
anyone, lest anyone should boast that I couldn't have made it without him.
And you didn't know where I was, until I stood up, and said, "Look here!"
My schizophrenia involves the fact that I once thought that I was the
Man from Mars, eating bars, cars, and guitars. It was some time before I
decided to give that up, because that's not me, that's somebody else, and
I'd like to meet him.
I'm a good smuggler, because there's no cop going to bother me, not
after what I put them through, just outside of Nashville. But, the truck-
ers weren't so nice about the whole deal, and that's the problem we have to
work with when we get back on the road again.
You do what you have to do to get me to Washington, D.C., without
anyone knowing about it. I'm not ready to go out conquering and to con-
quer, yet. I've a lot of changes to make in you, myself, our tools,
materials, and equipment, which we carry with us, because that's what we
need to do the job. And, our name can be, The Undercover Swat Team.
Of what use is a dream, unless you put it to use? It's like salt,
which has lost its flavor, because nothing has been done with it.
Can I do less than play the role of, the Commander of This Ship? Why
should I? Who can do it better?
I do without the chicks, because my Corner Of The Attic is better than
a big house with a quarrelsome woman giving me trouble all the time. And,
one man among a thousand have I found to talk like this, but not one woman
among all those have I found, as in Ecclesiastes 7:28.
I just had the idea the seven angels should be the disc jockeys on
seven radio stations, in seven different cities across the nation, and your
words make news, causing hearts to fear. While I run the roads between
you, and nobody knows how I do it, because by all appearances I shouldn't
be able to.
I want to "take it to the top" in every field of endeavor, including
Joe Bananas, as he has the best report of any godfather I've ever heard of,
as he treats his people right, and they love him for it, and he seems to
practice the same secrets of life I do. That's a far-out dude, and I wanna
meet him on his home ground in Tucson.
When I come in for a landing, I want you to go with me to my group
therapy class, at 2:30 p.m. today, at U.S.C. hospital. I want to arrange
to take everybody in the class to the taping of The Midnight Special,
getting tickets, providing transportation, etc.
Here in my attic, I can look out my back door, and front door, at the
same time. The back door looks out into the desert, and I'd be glad to see
anyone who came through the desert to visit me.
My front door is on the shore of a mountain lake, where a white,
electric-powered seaplane floats, tied up to my dock. On another shore of
the lake is a cabin, with a red seaplane parked outside, and on the far
side of the lake are two more cabins, with a black and a yellow seaplane
outside the respective cabins.
My back door and front door are two pictures which I have hanging side
by side, where I can sit in my rocking chair and look to see what I can see
in the pictures, just if they really were where I live, and I could walk
into the pictures any time I wanted to.
A song says something like, "You gotta believe me. I'm gonna dream
you right into my life." I believe that we're on the same path, in the
same direction, or that we're on separate paths which will become one, and
this one will become narrow enough so that you will file past me in single
file, so I can count you.
After it's all said, and done, I can still tell you, "You ain't seen
nothing yet." Sometimes, it's not too good to be a teacher's pet, because
the other kids will give you trouble for being a "suck ass," when all I
wanted was to get as much as I could from someone who was willing to give
it to me, which satisfied my curiosity, creativity, and imagination, while
teacher was fulfilling her dreams and desires that made her become a
teacher. It's the perfect relationship, except for the outside interfer-
Phoebe Snow sings, "The games that you play, don't you play them with
me." What would you do if I did? Would you run away or get mad? You can
go, if you want to run, but I'll tie you down if you get violent. You can
run, until you get tired of other men pawing over you. You'll be glad to
find a corner in my house, safe from the storm outside, or you'll find out
what you missed when it's too late and you can't change your mind, because
I'm not going to open the hatch until it's over.
"I'm not talking about moving in, and I don't want to change your
life." What do you mean, you don't want to change my life? That's all I
want to do--change it!
It feels good to wave my "black hole" around in time to the music,
like a female impersonator.
All of you are where you're at with me. I mean, if I make you feel
bad about what I do, that's your problem, which you have to work out any
way you can. Failure to do so will result in expulsion from the ship.
Hello, Angel of the Morning;
A song asked, "Wat are you going to do with it, when you get it? What
are you going to do with my love? Tell me you'll be kind." I'll be kind,
but sometimes, you might not consider it to be so. I'll give you what you
need, and if I didn't do it, your condition would worsen, instead of get-
ting better. My remedy for your ills might make you feel badly, smell
badly, and be contrary to everything you have been led to expect of right-
eousness, but once you get past the smell, pain, etc., it'll be all right.
That's the Strait Gate, by which you prove your love, faith, long-
suffering, by allowing a child to grow the way he wants to, instead of
forcing him to fit the mold you have prepared for him in your life. I
break all molds.
Song: "Show me where it's at!" It's wherever I go; it's whatever I
went there for, looking for it. How we fall short of living in the sky is
what I'm here to teach you, and the sooner I'm hired to give Survival
Training classes, the better for us all, as we come in under one roof, and
our security is twice as effective, making a tighter ship, to weather the
Song: "Love makes a woman." So, I must program your computer to
function according to the way I want you to act. Be sure that you accept
such information as I give you in a prayerful attitude; that's why Carly
Simon doesn't belong to me.
I have you in a hollow donut. You can run around in that thing all
you want to, but you can't get out, ease your frustrations, or find any
comfort in a cold world, until I let you out of your cell. I would like
you to bring your cell to me, that you may learn to appreciate what I've
been able to do without you. You are the only loser in any lack of cooper-
ation. If I have to, I'll come after you, when I got it together enough to
do it. It might happen in a longer, or a shorter period of time than you
expected, which might prove to be an unpleasant surprise for you. I don't
ever know how anyone might act naturally, until I spring it on him, to find
out. When I see him, then I know him.
Without repentance, those who object to my life will find themselves
cut off from the source of good, and having no place to run to get away
from the influence of my light, which torments him so, and there's nothing
I can do about it because I can't change him. That's how he is because of
his desires, etc.
If you're feeling good, and everything's fine, because you're practic-
ing what I told you, there'll be a day when it'll grow stale, because you
can't rejuvenate it by yourself, and you need me to put some life back into
it. I'll be here when that day comes.
Marie, you're wasting your time looking for perfection in a man; i.e.,
a Mormon who doesn't drink, smoke, etc. None of your men can do what I can
As the cigarette grows from long to short, and the match burns to the
end, nothing remains the same, and the problems of the world are a smoke in
my nose, which smoke fills my temple where no man can enter until the seven
angels have poured their vials upon the earth. When I stop smoking, there
will be no more change for 1000 years.
I live in a Chicano section of L.A., and I can't relate to anyone, or
help them with their problems unless they have come in search of the
temple, and I know from which tribe they have sprouted, by which gate they
have entered into my presence.
I see little children with sad faces, and there's nothing I can do for
them, until "that day."
To fulfill Israel's (Jacob's) prophecy, in Genesis 49:10, and in the
name of Jesus Christ, I sign myself,
I want to go back to jail, to be a live-in case worker, at Utah State
Prison, for 3 1/2 years, at the end of which time the "daughter of my
people" will be healed.
I want to see what laws Reagan will make for those who don't want to
fuck their sisters. It's terrible laws which say that a Christian can't
live any better than criminals do, in this 3,000 mile wide prison.
Conway Twitty sings, "Did you know your love had taken me that high?"
I'm an eagle, who has made his home in a cave in one of the peaks, where no
man can come.
Song: "It just don't get no better, and we lay in each other's arms
every night." That's because you don't know what I know about it. It gets
better for me, then worse, up and down, all the time . . . but the lows get
higher, and so do the highs. That's what it takes to be a Peacemaker, and
you gotta have faith that we will find joy at the end of the road, no
matter how bad things might get now and then. Because I'm living in a
dream that's guaranteed. You can't know what true love, real freedom,
unfailing faith, or eternal truth is unless, and until, you are willing to
take a chance, and go against what you've been told, to suffer the
consequences and count the blessings accrued, to judge whether you should
do it again or not, in firm confidence that your Father in Heaven teaches
his children wisely, as he gives knowledge that has no earthly source, and
can't be found in any man. That's how you tear the world apart, atom by
Can you roll a cigarette, while riding a motorcycle, and weaving back
and forth in time to the music on the radio? It feels good to tape that
scene for future generations.
I only smoke for the consolation I can't get anywhere and that's what
makes it worth my trouble to keep on going the way I go, in what I do and
say. As the cigarette grows from long to short, and the match burns to the
end, nothing remains the same, and the problems of the world are a smoke in
my nose, which smoke fills my temple where no man can enter until the seven
angels pour their vials upon the earth. When I stop smoking there will be
no more change for 1000 years. That's what you might call working with the
creative forces, and building blocks of life, to produce a Brand New Thing,
like a new-born babe, with the male and female parts of my soul being the
I would do something else, if I could. But as things stand now: it's
either do this, or do nothing.
A song says, "When love calls, you better answer." It's staring you
in the face right now.
One song asks, "Will you make us laugh, or make us cry?" And Babs
sang, "What's too painful to remember, we simply choose to forget." I'll
make you remember, and I'll keep reminding you, until you stop doing that.
Then, you can laugh easily.
Song: "Sometimes I forget what I'm doing, and what I want." I do it
too, but when I wake up and find myself in a place I don't like, I can find
my way back to the Stairway to Heaven, and ride the Highway to the Stars.
The open road is the best place, for people like us, to be; and, the coun-
try towns are the best places to stop, as "country hicks" give you enough
leeway for your treasured idiosyncrasies, and they won't act like you just
stepped on their toes from 10 feet away.
I believe it's possible for at least 75 percent of the "city slickers"
to change their minds when they know the truth, but the other 25 percent
are committed and they won't get on their knees for hell or high water; by
their work shall ye know them.
Song: "It must be heaven in your arms . . ., etc."
You know what I'm producing as you feel it when I do it. As I cook
this food in the rough draft upon the fires of my mind which might not be
to your liking, I taste it, and it's good to me. Your communication must
be in the form of your taste--how you would change it. The energy of
Heaven flows from my finger tips and I can work with it any way I wish and
people have accused me of twisting the Bible to my own purposes. I ask
them what else would you have me do with it? Just let it sit there? Who
is by my side counseling me not to write these words? I see no one. I can
think what I want, and God'll damn anyone who doesn't like it. You're
caught in a trap, between me and Satan. If you don't come out, at my
bidding, I'll leave you to him. I ride side-by-side with the Hell's An-
geles, and what they do is in me, too. The only difference of them and
myself is that I also ride with God, and I won't hurt anyone, no matter
what the provocation. I'll turn them loose on the world when I leave them
behind, and anybody who's here with them will be sorry for what they've
done that put them in such a spot.
The dividing line between right and wrong is white-hot, and you're
going to jump one way or the other. You can no longer sit on the fence. I
want you to come and play with me, but I can't force you to. You can
either stay in the darkness and comfort of that hole you're in, or you can
come out into the light to be with me.
Song: "Why, lady, why can't I get over you?" That's my secret. I
gotta see what you do with what you already know before I tell it.
Who can ascend to the Mountain of Got but he who swears to his own
hurt and won't retreat from the stand he takes?
Anyone who likes the music has life in him, but anyone who is
impatient may have it taken away from him in one way or another, i.e.,
accident, natural disaster, a knife in the back or a bullet in the head;
it's all the same, to the effect that he has no control over his environ-
ment, because he has no body to give his life substance.
Song: "Imaginary Lover, in real life situations, imagination's un-
real." The information has been received by my computer. Let's wait and
see what comes out.
I'm here, so you set up the real life situation you want, and we'll go
The "Long Way Home" is: starting out at the very worst you can feel,
and working your way up to feeling good again. "Home" is where the world
disappears, and all you know is here with you. Song: "Nothing's gonna
change my world." Nothing, except me. That's what I do; I make changes.
Some people like what I do, and some don't. Those who don't will leave my
presence, somehow or other.
The less violent distractions in my surroundings allow me to concen-
trate more on making life better for others, than for myself. The more
violent things get, the reverse is true.
Song: "Have you ever had enough of mine? The things you count for
knowledge I can't understand, etc." What one suffers we all suffer. It's
better to help me with my problems, and protecting me from those who don't
like it, instead of thinking that you can punish me for what I do, because
I can stand it. I could live this way for the next 1,000 years . . .
though there is no reason why we should have to. The better I feel, in
Christ, the better for you.
Song: "What am I here to do? Where should I go?" Come here, and I'll
tell you. The Lord has given me truth which makes me free, and by me shall
all things be known, that nothing is hidden or secret. That will be the
ongoing task of Shiloh, when the people have been gathered. I'm not exact-
ly sure what I should do, now. I must move against the present surround-
ings, or things will stay this way. I go for all I know, like a little
child. Everything I wrote to you, I thought, "This'll bring them running."
But nothing has yet.
The Father, in heaven, helps me to avoid natural disasters which I
might cause for myself, by being so free. And, Jesus, the Son, helps me
with the personality problems in those I meet, these being UNnatural.
Everyone who wishes to, can share this life with me, as all sins are for-
given. The only unforgivable sin is Unbelief, against which, the only way
I can fight it, or change it, is by Isolation, which is better for me than
for those I use it on.
Song: "Can't you smell that smell that's around you?" At this
point, everything is tasteless, and odorless, which might make me seem
heartless to those who care about these things, but I can't help it.
Dousing myself with deodorant doesn't do any good, because the same thing
comes out in some other way objectionable to unconscious men. But, I'll do
all I can, even if it seems unfruitful at the moment. I try harder to
please God than either myself or my friends. With others, it seems the
reverse is true. What I do is like the forward propulsion of a rocket
ship. In order to overcome the inertia of material reality and present-day
attitudes, you must hang on tight to the good sense of not causing me any
trouble. Otherwise, you will be left behind while the rest of us proceed
on to the realm of Improvement and Ever-Increasing Joy.
Being here at the bottom, everything is the same, and nothing matters,
so I can move in any direction with no hang-ups, like in outer space.
I'm here, at your service. I want to do what would be good for you.
You must tell me how I may serve you, before I'll be able to.
Lacking that, all I can attempt is to fill my empty heart.
Michael Jackson sings, "Don't stop until you get enough." I didn't
have enough yet, but I've got to stop here, and let you catch up to me, and
then we can go from here.
With love, in the spirit of Christ,
The Lonesome Loser, One of a Kind
Chuck Heinlen, Shiloh
(Commander of Universal Energy, Human Emotion, Initiative; Commander of the
space fleet of heavenly armies; Commander of my own tongue; Commander of
the Whole Body, and Commander of the vibration which gives you a crazy
P.S. Considering that money is a very powerful incentive, that nobody's
gonna' do anything unless they can make money at it, that I have no sella-
ble product or service (anything I do is free; it doesn't cost anybody
anything), and that, like Isaiah 53, there is nothing about me that anybody
should desire me, I don't know what will make the dream come true.
About a month or two after I put these letters in the mail, I'll know
if my present effort will bear any fruit. If this doesn't work, I don't
know what I'll do next, but I'll tell you one thing, I'll do SOMETHING!
It takes an extreme love for God for anybody to acknowledge my
existence, so if you don't have enough love for God, that's what's holding
you back. I'm just sitting here waiting to see who comes across.
My case is settled. I've been prosecuted, tried, judged; the sentence
has been passed and executed. I'm beyond all care or concern about
anything. Anyone who wants to experience the same thing is welcome. Do
what you want; do what you have to do. Whatever that is, that's the kind
of person you are. Whether that's a curse or a blessing is up to you.