This is the real reason we need to drastically change.

There's a war on.
A war declared on folks halfway across the world.
A war declared on folks here.
A war on 'terror' - whatever that means.

Now, if I'm not totally insane...
The only way to END a war is to stop fighting.
I responded to the 'war on drugs' declared by Ronald Regan.
Now, if I'm not crazy, Ronald Regan and that whole bunch.
Were the big pimps that made medicines illegal and so expensive.

So I made it that a war on drugs was a war on the nations who grow them.

Chiefly Mexico.

Then the shit hit the fan in my life.

And actually, my reasons for getting all political were very selfish.
I wanted to impress my sister so I could marry her.
In order to marry my sister, I needed to change the world a little bit.

Estoy un poco arrepentido de eso.
Eso fue pura lujuria desencadenada.

But here we are.
And the basic premise of the 'war on drugs' has not changed.
But the players have.

I went to the Green Party in Mexico back in 2006.
I told them that if they did not put me in the ballot,
There would be massive bloodshed in Mexico.
Then the Zetas arrived.
And I kinda figured out that the Zetas were run by the CIA.

And then furthermore, I kinda figured that the CIA was fighting a war...
On the FBI. On America. It was a 'necessary' evil.
To create a New World Order.
And Mexico, it seems, is a vital element of this...

And tomorrow is Valentine's day, and I wanna sing love songs.
But this is what I had on my head this morning when I was taking a bath:
The motto of the CIA is "The Truth Shall Set Your Free".

And folks keep dying.
And Haiti.. And Baron Samedi.
And New Orleans. And Tabasco.
And so much crazy shit...
It makes me wonder why I don't just shoot myself.

But "The Truth Shall Set You Free".
And I guess I am in bonds.
And the bonds started with a document made out to Lucifer.
And signed in Blood.
And then old George Derby showed up at my dad's door.
And I let him in and he gave me a coin and a little bag.
And I sent the coin to my sister and I hid the bag in a guitar.
And then I lost the guitar.

And George kidded me around about "getting my eye poked".
And I told him that a snake died when I offered her to Kali.
And I fell in love with Kali. But I was ignorant. Foolish.

Then I found out about Nrsrimhadeva and Krsna and all the other stuff.
And I figured that George and his "Hollywood Bowl" was just soup from the soup.
As that 'bastard' Sheik Omar told me regarding Blavatsky.

But I would lie if I didn't tell you, dear reader, that I heard ...
Aleister Crowley's voice in my head. When I was in the Hollywood Jailhouse.
And not only Aleister, but also that funny fellow who I worked with ...

Mr. Stuart. Who worked for the same boss: Butch Fries.

So, if I make a full disclosure of my life and times,
And I don't make it rhyme or a song-and-dance...
Please forgive me, dear readers.
I'm just a silly horror writer who can't carry a tune.

But I keep praying...
(to El Senor de los Cielos) whoever that might be.
(although I suspect his eye is the Sun)
To set me free.
Free to go Home.
Home back to Him.

And frankly, I've been practicing to die...
With The Blessed Lady's name in my lips.
Although I've read the Koran and I worry about 'adding Gods to God'.
But I am not an Arab. And although my blood might be Jewish...
I was born in Mexico Tenochtitlan.
And I was dedicated to an Aztec Goddess.
And I tattooed her on my back to remind myself to whom I really belong.

That's a lie.

I actually tattooed her on my back so she would protect me from George.
And that only after George tried to kill me in a dream, ripping my throat out.
And I had to chase him away with the name of Lord Nrsimhadeva.

I wonder if for fellows like me...
Blessings are curses and curses are blessings.
In purely vaisnava terms, I am an ignorant Demon.

Nasrudin.

Rhymes with Rasputin.
Supposedly, one of my past lives (according to my witchy Raquel).
And I would lie if I did not admit that I do practice spiritism.
And that I will keep on doing that, thank you very much.
I am an Aztec Medicine Man. I am a Mescalero.
I'm not about to quit THAT particular job.

Unless, maybe, old JC comes down from the clouds and in no uncertain terms tells me I have something else to do.

Barring that... I have my Dharma cut out for me, and apparently, it involves peyote, weed, mushrooms, ayahuasca...

All of which are quite helpful in summoning spirits.

And oddly enough, film, sodomy and music.
Why sodomy, you might ask...
Because in these hectic times of Biblical Prophecies coming true...
And Holy Jihads in the middle east...
I must stick to what I know to be absolutely true.

My religion is Love, Harmony and Beauty.
And one of the words for love is Tolerance.
And if I start casting stones to my brother Sodomites...
And deny love as the greatest expression of God's creation...
Then I would be a fraud. A sheister. A shaytan.
Bad enough that I'm still trying to figure out how to be a Sham-Man.

My meditation is weed.
My meditation is walking.
My meditation is music.

If you, humble reader, think me an addict..
A junky... A pervert.. For many, I would say...

True, true, true.

But I ask nobody to follow my path.
Only to try and understand...
And allow.
My path might not be your path.
I might not be really...
Acceptable to your prejudices.

But if you follow MY religion, which name is Tolerance.
You might find that all religions have one thing in common:

The Golden Rule.

And that is basically the only rule I like to live by.