“The lenticular object is the means to our end, the means of getting On Patrol. It's the UFO, the lens shape that winks in and out of our plane to broadcast some Cosmic Giggle and, at times, for amped confrontation: close encounters and (in the extreme) rebirth.

The UFO phenomenon, like the lenticular phenomenon, is prominently vaginal, and so most of the time you can hear it harmonizing with classic birth trauma. But it's a good hurt, the yonic cruise. The lenticular object appears in traditional Christian iconography as the Mandorla, a representation of the overlap of Divinity and physical reality, so, hey, that's our clue, it's glowing doors and gateways from here on out. We “see” them because, as the shape itself instructs us, these are perceptual zones we're stalking: warped but potent mirrors and refractors of other dimensions.

Los Angeles is a pretty lenticular town, when you get right down to it. At least in the sense that it's a doorway. If and when we have a choice about the other side of that door, it can be a true spaceport. The vaginal symbol that's the thrumming machinery governing all of the coming and going from physical reality to total image in this town stands in stark contrast to the sadly impotent (and misconceived) masculine energy that is supposedly in the driver's seat. Not a chance, dudes, are you kidding? Put that away before you hurt yourself.

The true other side of the door is outer/inner space, always has been, always will be. An echo in the finite of the infinite act of Creation, as Coleridge would say. The Great Attractor, Blake called it the Divine Imagination. But either way, it's been summoned by too many good-hearted people to stay away long. Its frequencies are powerful, it's just about tuning in to the end of history. Watch it now, on demand, so you become an observer: Paradise Regained. McLuhan “saw” it as the enormous collective body we've been swarming into. Pierre Teilhard “saw” it as the Body of Christ on Earth, to be summoned and resurrected by the Father. Teleology is a tricky business, and as my buddy Phil used to say, we're just hanging the curtains, moving the lights around, testing, testing 1…2…3. The cybernetic network, Mama Matrix, maholo, whatever you call it, it's just a stage. Who and what walks out onto that stage will be the (reflective) surprise. (Hint: It's not a surprise.)

Until then, back in the (lenticular) patrol car: antennas up.”

LA Weekly