Rat Happy Death

The disease I contracted from Brian Wilson last Friday night seems to be finally about to leave me. I had a look at the novel I was working on before the disease and I could have three good chapters ready by the end of the week. I think I could accumulate a massive list of rejections for this novel before it is even written!

I managed to get rejections for a totally positive set of questionnaires I sent out to just about every publisher of kidsbooks in Britain. Lots of them rejected it. A lot of agents rejected it as well. It goes like this. You send the letter with the questionnaires asking them to read the book and they send you back a rejection.

Maybe sending publishers live animals would have a better chance of success. Send them a cat. Please publish my cat. How dare you reject me cat! Some people have just got a rejection reflex.

How can you be happy when you are dying? I was dying with the flu and I was quite unhappy sometimes. Maybe you can feel a wee bit depressed with a virus ... well, you can't blinking do anything. That's bound to be depressing! Sometimes you're a bit doomed when you're hung over. You could say being doomed was a part of the hang over. Maybe feeling doomed is part of the terminal disease. You can't expect to feel happy if feeling unhappy is part of the disease.

I want a terminal disease that doesn't make you feel doomed. Tall order.

Rat Number Thing

Baby Shower Gift Certificates
Thought I'd put a counter on this blog to count the number of martians and Masai who hit this site. Don't know if it'll work. What are Baby Shower Gift Certificates? Baby shower? Doesn't bear thinking about.

Rat Jesus Christy thing

I was brought up a catholic and so I never had any idea about what was supposed to be going on with this crucifixion stuff. The son of God is supposed to be getting crucified for us, to save us from our sins.

What could be the operating system for this?

If you have no idea what the purpose of the crucifixion is, or how it operates, it's a bit hard to get into this all-powerful son of God stuff. If he is supposed to have saved you, how does getting crucified do it? What are they talking about?

I managed to get some hold on the Jesus Christ thing from Paramahansa Yogananda. In his book he says that great yogis can take the bad karma from their disciples by loading on the suffering. So according to this idea, the main thing is Pentecost when the the Holy Ghostie Men showed up, and the apostles started preaching ... assumedly after experiencing a massive kundalini arousal of some kind.

This doesn't help as far as the method of lifting other people's bad karma is concerned ... how does that operate? ... but at least starts to give the human sacrifice some point.

The buddhists helped a bit with Jesus Christ as well. Jesus Christ suffered and died for me because he had developed universal compassion, and the buddhists are into developing this. So Jesus Christ could have thought he was suffering and dying for everyone if he had developed this universal compassion.

This is still a christian country to some extent. I think to bring in meditation and buddhist ideas into Scotland we've got to rip off Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ was obviously a yogi or he couldn't have done the forty days and forty nights in the desert. Know thyself is buddhist. So Jesus Christ is a buddhist. I've been reading St Teresa of Avila recently. She's a buddhist as well. She couldn't tell the difference between mind, spirit and soul. How buddhist can you get? St Antony who invented western monasticism was definitely a buddhist. He shut himself into a place to meditate and didn't come out for ages. Anyone in a cave is a buddhist. Whatever happened to the catholics? Where did all the monks go?

One last thing about Jesus Christ. The magic and the miracles can't work if we exist as separate things. There has to be some kind of connection to connect through. Say you were going to cure a scab. You'd look at the scab and tell it to be better, I suppose. If you can actually make it better, there must be process, some way for the "force " of your thought to get through.

I told myself I could believe in miracles once long ago when my breathing seemed to have gone very shallow when I was meditating. Not much of a miracle, but something without apparent explanation. If you don't believe in anything, of course, you won't believe in miracles. You might believe in explanations though.

I got an email from my fans in the Masai Mara. I was asked why I was making comments on my own blog. These are the work of Brian Wilson, a demented stalker who wants to be my agent. However, in the many weeks since I set up this blog to track my attempts to get an agent using this page

I have failed completely to get any agents to look at it at all. PFD has still got the two packages I sent them weeks ago. I suppose the Egor they employ to sieve the packages and bin them hasn't reached mine yet. So I've had time to think what I want an agent for

All I need is a person who can do lunch. They have to know someone they can do the lunch with i.e someone who likes them because they have made money for them before. I want the agent just to show up and do the lunch. I do not expect the agent to have even read the book she/he is trying to punt. In fact, this lunch might work better if they haven't read it. Also, it would be better if the publisher didn't bother reading it either. What's the point of employing all these other people if you have to read the bloody books yourself. Yes, that's all I need an agent for. To do lunch. Take their cut and make me money.

To turn Brian Wilson into my agent I'd have to get him a bit of a makeover. With the baldy head and the false teeth sitting on the bar .... chewing the pig's face ... taking the clothes off in public ... might stick to the harassing emails for a while yet.

Rat Oddly Unsettling Feeling

This blog has an entry in Google. There seems to be some African people reading it now by the look of the comments it's been receiving. I think they must be Masai. I wonder if they'd like to become my agent. They could look up my wonderful writings here


If they did, you'd expect it to show on the stats for the site, but I did that yesterday and the hit didn't show up.

I am still suffering from the disease I contracted from Brian Wilson last Friday. One day this week I didn 't meditate at all. Once I thought that I usually meditate for about four or five hours a day and I wondered who that could be. Why would anybody want to do that?

It's nearly eleven o clock in the morning of Good Friday. I'll go away and meditate and see if I can remember why I do it again.

Ra bells of hell!

Was reading one of the two books that told me all I needed to know about the cosmic east and the cunning yoga techniques when I came across the bit that said I was heading straight for hell!

I don't believe in hell.

Maybe the hell stuff can be taken as a metaphor for doing this and something really bad will happen. You're supposed to have the deity stuff sorted before you start blowing heat up your cosmic pipes. I think you're supposed to be able to emanate with radiance and pride. I thought I'd just do the two parts at the same time, kind of thing.

When you've got the swamp, you don't feel like meditating. It's not a holiday. You don't feel like reading much. I haven't written much. I have watched quite a few videos over the past few days. Still, I'm getting better.

Rat Brian Wilson disease!

Brian Wilson was supposed to come and see me on Friday night. I implored him not to and even offered to pay for alternative entertainments for him, but he could not be dissuaded. So we went to about seven bars, mainly on Leith Walk, and he drank himself into insensibility while I had a few coca colas. Continually talking about sexually molesting his workforce, at least he kept his clothes on and only started shouting about the IRA when we were, fortunately, at last in a pub which wasn't full of working class types.

Actually interacting with a flatheided E.T. was enough to shock me into a dose of swamp fever from which I have not yet recovered. I'm off work today. Yesterday was the first day in a long time when I did no meditating at all. Dearie me.

The PFD have not told me to fung off yet. This is a bit disappointing since hassling agents was really good fun. I guess I'll give them another week and go on. Next time I get a chance to send an agent a package, maybe I should send them a really big one. A trunk.

I don't believe in anything, but I'd like to be re-incarnated so I can re-write all these old books. I could plant a trunk in my allotment and then come back. In the dark. With a shovel. What are you doing? Digging up some old books of mine! Hotboy

Rat Morning Glow

It must be nearly a month since I got back from the Samye Ling. Usually, you're faced with a gentle decline from the peaks attained there, but this time it has been a little different. There's been a definite development. Heat after the outbreath seems quite easily accessible now. It tends to happen.

What I'm looking for here is some further appreciation of emptiness. Or trying to see everything as empty, or void. When you're in the bliss/heat bubble that's easier since everything else that occurs, including the emotion which may accompany it, has to be seen as empty. This stuff just gets easier. It gets easier as you feel happier and more relaxed due to doses of ra bliss and that underlying feeling of general improvement in your mood/psyche.

No news yet on the agent front. I'll have to wait ages before PFD tell me they've binned my submission, then get into harrassing more of these agent bastards. Next time I think I'll cheat and keep going with the emails to other victims.

Brian Wilson, who has stolen my identity, is still begging to be my agent. But all he lives on is tripe and black pudding sausages. This will not go down well at the award ceremonies we'd have to attend. Also, with that amount of flatulence, it'll be a problem taking him anywhere

I have no idea what mental states await from this vajrayana juju, or what weird physical stuff might happen, but I'm not worried. It's not traditional to do this stuff out of a book and after a couple of empowerments, but this is the modern world. We need to develope tantric stuff in Scotland. Or outside Tibet. Anyway, I haven't hurt myself yet, so jog on.

I asked someone who doesn't meditate (B. Wilson) if they minded being called an E.T. (Evolutionary tail) instead of a flatheid. I don't think he much appreciates either. E.T. is a bit confusing though Steven Speilberg has given it recognition. How about P.T. Prehensile Tail is good because no one knows what it is yet. You could say, "Oh, you're a P.T., are you?""What's a P.T.?" They won't like it when you tell them they're a Prehensile Tail, but it's definitely time we went to war with these flatheids

This might be a hinayana position. These boys don't give a toss about the prehensile tails. In Mayayana, you should feel sorry for them. In the vajrayana, you should think they'r buddhas. In many ways, I'm hinayana with vajrayana pretensions!

Ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss

Got a bit fed up yesterday about all the folk I know who are scheduled for the grief, sorrow, lamentations ... who don't get ra bliss. I've started thinking people who don't get ra bliss or try to get ra bliss are kind of .... well, just being stupid. It's as if we were given a mind and the instructions along with it said that we had to look both ways. If you only look one way, it doesn't work right. Well, it wouldn't, would it?

Haven't blogged about ra bliss for a few days, but today I found having this blog useful. You forget what's been going on.

Today the breathing started with these odd long ones ... ones when you seem to be able to hold the breath for a lot longer than usual ... and just kept getting better. A great deal of calm, which I what I'm loooking for. Should have some wonderful meditations this evening. Only stopped to write my book, but got caught up in this.

I've had to pause in the war against the agents since I sent out the supplementary package to PFD. If I play to the rules and wait till they tell me to fung off, I won't be able to harass anyone else for a couple of weeks.

Rat Funny Feeling

Did a few deep breaths at the weekend and noticed something funny. I can hold my breath for far longer than I used to be able to. This is weird. Sometimes I can do it and sometimes I can't. It depends.

In inner heat meditations, once the "airs" have entered the "central channel", you should be able to know this because the breath gets subtle. Or maybe subtler and subtler. With meditation your breathing should drop by 17 percent anyway. Deep sleep drops it 10%. So there is something happening with my breathing at the moment.

Also, the "space" after the breath is released is there much easier since last week. I think now this "space" is definitely where I should be going. For ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!

As far as agents are concerned, I'm sending a supplementary package to Pat Kavanagh of PFD. I sent 50 pages of Bomber and my friend Barry says that might have been the wrong thing to send. So I sent the first fifty pages of the Buddha and the Big Bad Wolf along with the first chapter of the book I'm working on. Then I'll just have to wait until this stuff gets thrown in the bin and I can go on to hassle some other poor person. (Or rich poor person!)

I expect sometime this year to have every cell in my body bursting with bliss. At least, sometimes. What a wonderful, wonderful prospect!!

Ra Weird Space Envelope

I can't do the visualisations you're supposed to do for deity yoga. I assume you'd have to be in retreat for some time to get your mind calm enough.

But something has come up after the vase breath which is very weird. Even among all the other weirdness of bliss and heat, this is weird. You mind does really seem to go into a something else. Your body feel inflated almost, but ... it is different. I don't know what's in that space. It seems a bit easier to emanate as a deity there (although you're just imagining)(still) and try developing something called vajra pride.

You're supposed to get into vajra pride. I have no idea why. I suppose if you'd four heads and a thousand arms you'd feel a bit advantaged anyway.

Got Tsongkhapa's Six Yogas of Naropa by Glenn H. Mullin from the cosmic bookshop a couple of days ago. That and The Bliss of Inner Fire by Lama Thubden (?) Yeshe are what you need if you want to do some research into this juju. I've bought the first one mentioned twice and lost it twice. Almost all I know about this juju is in these books.

I can't really excuse tormenting any agents today. If Pat Kavanagh is getting someone to look over the fifty pages I sent her, I can't start hustling someone else, can I? Anyway, I read the fifty pages myself today and .... well, what do I know

I think only Brian Wilson and maybe Barry Graham read this blog. If anyone else reads it, they could go to my website, read the first fifty pages of Bomber (that's what I sent her) and send me an email to tell me what they think. She wanted something which best represented my writing. Well, that does, but my writing from twenty years ago. It's not as good as it has to be.


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Ra Breath and Ra Bliss

How can ra breath be connected to ra bliss? There must be something odd going on here. If you get to the stage when you can take a big breath and on the exhalation get a surge of ra bliss, you are indeed a fortunate creature. You can get out of your face on air! This is the hit at the end of the universe.

There might be something in the air which somehow comes into you and does this. It might be called prana. It might be called lots of things. But what is it?

And how come it didn't do it before?

And how come you can get it by going mumbo jumbo mumbo jumbo to yourself? This truly is a wonderment.

Brian Wilson has stolen the name RaBlissBlog and is writing about his forthcoming sex change. At least, he'll be having fun soon.

Pat Kavanagh of PFD was the next one up. I was going to send an email a day to the list in Everyone who is Anyone, but she sent me a really nice email saying I hadn't a clue how to go about getting an agent and I should send her three chapters (so she could throw them in the bin). But the people at PFD have answered their emails (apart from Major Major). This amazes me.

The reason why I won't get an agent is because I don't know anyone. The only person I know is Brian Wilson. No, I know Barry Graham though he's now living in the woods in Tennessee. Barry gave me a publishers home address to send a typescript to and that's how I got a book published. See? It's who you know.

I'm trying to stop calling folk who don't meditate flatheids. I think I'll start calling them Evolutionary Tails, or E.T.s. ETs sound cuddlier than flatheids.

Ra Heat

I sent an email to James Gill of PFD this morning. After getting a fung off from Simon Trewin, that shows at least that you can get through to someone with these emails. From now on, I'll send one a day until someone tells me they're interested in looking at some stuff.


The creepy thing does make you pause for thought. The creepy thing is a bit odd and quite physical. The light is just the light. It's good in itself and does have lots of potential for ra bliss.
But ra heat is scary. You can imagine ra heat going to parts of your body it shouldn't and burning your wiring asunder. Ra heat is hot!!

Raising inner heat is the heart practise of the Six Yogas of Naropa. You raise inner heat by concentrating on a symbol beneath your navel and back a bit. The heat will rise easier if the symbol is there. You have to put it there by imagining it being there. There is a big difference, I think, between you imagining it being there and it being there.

If your concentration is good enough, you should be able to heat other parts of your body. Your finger? You should be able to make your finger get warm by thinking about it.

If you're anywhere near the stage of raising inner heat, you need a guru. Inner heat seems to me to be intrinsically dangerous. You need somebody even for reassurance.

So we've got some light, bliss and heat. Ra bliss when it comes with the heat ....