Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Christmas Eve/ Happy Meal


Jaye Beldo

I stared at the poster of some kids, all making the Devil's sign on the deck of a boat.  One of them hovered with upraised arms in the foreground focus, prior to a perverse baptism in the Colorado river. On a video monitor in a neighboring Terrible's, a blonde and Lycra-ed woman ran, then drank some sports water.  Every time I took a reluctant sip of the soda included with my Happy Meal, I'd look up and saw her sipping too. Some beverage entrainment was going on between us but she failed to uplift me, for the ad was infinitum. The cashier failed too. After giving me my change, she asked me to choose from a list on a card produced from under the cash register, emphasizing that it would cost me nothing to do so. Listed on the card were things like: Commit random acts of kindness, hug a dog, tell someone that you love them. I refused the unconditional offer and she plunked the card back down on the counter, looking at me with suspicion.

There were a few others whiling away their Christmas Eve desperation along with me.  As I hucked my Quarter Pounder down, pink slime and all, I could see a Toyota dealership across the road about a quarter mile away, with the All Seeing Eye logo emblazoned on the establishment.  I had dreamed about it the night prior. Some hooded members of a coven branded my forehead with the white hot symbol that was on a key chain. Then I saw my full name on the horizontal bar of a cross, in stark Helvetica font.

Worse than the dream import was the Sirius music pumped through the restaurant. I tried to block it with silicon ear plugs, then some ear buds through my tablet. I had some techno cranked full volume but the canned Pop still wormed its way into my skull. Meanwhile the meal solidified like concrete in my stomach.

 I returned to my campsite just at dusk and discovered that a friend had re-appeared after a long absence from Craggy Wash. She had parked her camper next to Lupe's tent and I saw her hobbling around with a cane. I cut across the wash and her three Chihuahuas barked and wagged their tails simultaneously. After sitting in a lawn chair, the dogs tried jumping up into my lap. Two of them made it.

"They stole my money. When I was in the hospital." Kelly replied after I asked her where she had been. "Crisp hundred dollar bill. Out of my wallet. Gone."

There were two full bottles of Jack Daniels behind her on the floor of her trashed camper. She asked me to light her cigarette and I did so.

"They hit me over the head with a rock. I know they did, because the lump was not on either side like when you fall and hit something. It was on top."

She took a sip of her drink. "Can't trust nobody."

"Before the accident, I was making six figures flipping houses with my husband. We had the most lavish parties. Funny how people that came to them would switch check out lanes in the grocery store when they saw me in a wheel chair."

I could only pet her dogs which looked at me expectantly. Taking the hint, I got up and put them on the ground, went over and hugged Kelly. Her body was stiff and a bit cold. Over her shoulder I could see bottles of pain pills on the kitchen counter. I had hoped to be blessed with the gift of miraculous healing at that moment but she trembled some more during my attempted laying on of hands.

Returning to my tent in the dark, I laid on my inflatable mattress, clutching my stomach and envisioning myself crucified atop a Prius in the celebratory glare of the coming New Year. It would be a sufficient atropopaic in my estimation, warding off any fair weather friends that may be drawn my own way when the inevitable Good News arrives as hinted at in the foreshadowings described above.

(C)2015-Jaye Beldo

Friday, December 19, 2014

Truth Hertz!


Jaye  Beldo

King David on a 528hz Harp?

Recently, I submitted an article I wrote on tainted marijuana: to
Dr. Leonard Horowitz and Sherri Kane. Other than meeting Len @ the Raw Spirit Festival in Sedona, Az., I had not checked into his work since the days I favorably reviewed his book Healing Codes of the Biological Apocalypse  back in 2000 or thereabouts.

Sherri responded that they would publish the piece on their Medical Veritas blog and since no one else I queried got back to me, I thought it would be good exposure.

In the interim, I then started digging into what Horowitz was up to and found much of it to be an outright turn off. Coming across an article entitled The King of Vain Deceit:

I discovered that megalomania had taken him over, at least from my POV-especially with his bloodline 'Overseer' claims. The article says the following comes from his website:

"Dr. Horowitz is a Levitical priest by virtue of his bloodline, spiritual direction, and ecclesiastical commitments. He is the body corporate and Overseer of The Royal Bloodline of David, an omni-denominational healing ministry.”

Here's the following from the Gotquestions.Org site:

The Levitical priesthood was never intended to be permanent (Hebrews 7:11). The death of Christ put an end to the Old Covenant and the Levitical priesthood, as evidenced by the rending of the temple veil (Matthew 27:51). Now Jesus Himself serves as the believer’s Great High Priest (Hebrews 4:14), called according to the order ofMelchizedek, not of Levi (Hebrews 7:11–17). Through His death and resurrection, we have access to God’s presence, where we can freely enjoy Him forever (Hebrews 6:19–20).

This made me doubt even more Len's spiritual claims.

I sent the Path of Truth link to Sherri and said I had misgivings about them running the piece. In addition, I was unclear as to their stance on biblical scripture considering how it is used in their defense against an Ayahuasca/DMT huckster trying to steal their land:

“These facts and illegal acts raise serious social concerns,” the doctor wrote, “risk medical emergencies, and underlie a cultural crisis in “One Nation Under God” that is Constitutionally founded on the principles of Christian monotheism (i.e., Judeo-Christian Levitical laws) that considers DMT use for ‘divine communion’ deadly sorcery and faithless hypocrisy.”  

The doctor referenced Acts 8:11; 13:8; Deuteronomy 18:9-10, and 18:14, that predicted nations falling because of “sorcery”—derived from the word “pharmakeia” or “pharmacy”—that is, prohibited (unlawful) use of mind-altering drugs.


Marijuana is mind altering-so why aren't Len and Sherri including this substance under the pharmakeia/sorcery heading?  Wouldn't smoking a joint and getting stoned be 'faithless hypocrisy' according to the scripture cited above?The above use of it comes off as quite contrived. It left me wondering what their stance on pot really was.

I then sent the following to Kane:

I'm sorry Sherri, but I read and re-read the articles you linked me to after I sent you my piece and the Judeo Christian/ Levitical law thing just doesn't come off very convincingly IMO. Also the pharmakeia/sorcery scripture you use from Galatians (I now stand corrected-they cited Deuteronomy and Acts) to bolster your defense makes it sound like you are against marijuana which I myself am not-only how it is grown. If you are such to-the-letter Christians why aren't you advocating killing homosexuals as stated in Leviticus 18:22? It just comes off as pick and choose scripture used to bolster an argument.

I have to agree w/ much written in the piece I sent. I reviewed Lens books prior to knowing about him being knighted, claiming he's of Davidic bloodline, etc. and that stuff just doesn't jive with me. It's just a personal thing and nothing against Len.   I suppose that makes me cointelpro though.

(emphasis added)

 I then received the following from Kane:

Jaye Beldo,

if you are not COINTELPRO, then you sure are stupid!

Can you show me your license to practice God? What gives you standing in God's jurisdiction to play God?

No real "Christians" would think about killing anyone!  What book are you reading, because it's certainly does not tell people to "kill" anyone in the bible that I have read? And your killing comment would only come out of the thoughts of a white trash white supremacist whom subscribes to Christian Identity aka satanism, not Christianity! 

I am a Hemp advocate, and believe it is a miracle plant, so I have not clue what you are talking about on that note either!

You appear to be angry that we did not publish your article soon enough, but that is because you are living in your own world. We are too busy defending ourselves from lies and BS put out by the COINTELPRO, which you are promoting!  But that of course is their agenda, to keep us busy....

And from wasting our time with clueless, insincere, fickle, homophobic racists like you who think you really know Dr. Horowitz or myself.

The information Dr. Horowitz writes is obviously way over your head so you look like an idiot attempting to critique it out of stupidity and jealousy and/or as part of the COINTELPRO agenda.

That link you are promoting to disparage Dr. Horowitz is a Christian Identity (white supremacist) website run by Paul "Cohen" and Sara Schmidt. You don't even know Dr. Horowitz, nor has he done anything wrong to you so you have no right to judge him. 

Look at your contradicting emails to us below, sounding supportive,  then suddenly out of the blue you start sending and promoting an COINTELPRO website! That is an example of a fractured personality.

If you are not COINTELPRO, you are sure playing by their playbook!

Good Luck because you are the one that needs to answer to God for your karma, attacking good people that have not done a thing to you!

Read your emails again and then your latest two, and take a good hard look in the mirror!  I personally don't know how you can live with yourself.

Oh and about the Knights of Malta BS your refer to in this email, the COINTELPRO have even taken that lie back, because it was so stupid, and we exposed it!

I am just happy we did not publish the article of a hateful racist like you!  That was a blessing! 

But I will publish this email thread as an example of COINTELPRO-like behavior. And Yes it will be "Spot On" !!!

Notice how nothing in the e-mail I sent is addressed specifically- such as their use of the above posted scripture to bolster a legal argument, nor Len's claim to being of 'Davidic' bloodline.  Sherri goes into defense mode,accuses me of 'attacking' and bypasses constructive dialogue by lashing out with name calling-a convenient bit of sleight of hand indeed. Based on what I've read-pretty much anyone who disagrees with Len and Sherri are labeled COINTELPRO. There is no reference to the Christian Identity movement in the article I linked her to whatsoever.

Racist?  Please check out the following I wrote:

Fickle?  I'll let the reader who has diligently imbibed in this blog decide.

And speaking of fickle, Sherri regards herself as a 'Levitical Priestess' and claims people regarded her as a 'prophetess' whatever that means. Please check this out:

Fractured personality? Perhaps, considering it much resembles a Byzantine mosaic when I look at it in the mirror.

In my estimation-neither Len or Sherri have any doubts as to their spiritual magnificence, nor importance after my attempt to communicate, esp. considering the titles the two of them so unabashedly tout. The convenient label of 'Omni-Denominational' comes off like a euphemism for 'anything goes' along as it promotes Len and Sherri's agenda and does not go against it in any way.  

It would be best if they sold everything they have, give the steam vent property they're parked on to the indigenous Hawaiian people and go work for Doctors without Borders-or Dentists without Borders as the case may be. Better yet-they should go ladle soup at the nearest Salvation Army kitchen in a self effacing, humbling, Sermon on the Mount kind of way.

And in regards to the 528hz tone this Levitical duo thinks will change the world? Len should get a patent on it like Harley Davidson did with the sound of their motorcycles. It would be the most honest and transparent thing he has done in a long time in regards to his ulterior and corporate motives.

Len Horowitz and Sherri Kane:
'Levitical' Priest and Priestess
and hawkers of the 528hz and
other assorted vibes.



Jaye Beldo

And now for an honest bio:

Jaye Beldo has struggled for over 30 years as a freelance writer. He has made under 5K in the process, if even that. His novel A Stab in the Light has sold 5 copies since it aired on Amazon.Com in 2009. It currently ranks 5,496,567 in sales. He has not sold enough copies to get his first royalty check of $100.00. 

Over the years, he has lived in various basements, tents, trailers, and has done manual labor jobs to survive. He is currently on food stamps, has no assets and  no retirement plans whatsoever. He has won no awards, has no titles or degrees worth mentioning either. He is currently not available for interviews as he is still  looking for that place where compliments pay the rent.

No contact information is available as he is currently homeless. 

(C)2014-Jaye Beldo

Monday, November 24, 2014

The Last Post


Jaye Beldo

Signing off, once again, from blogging. Just not pulling in enough readers here. Need to write crass, sensationalist stuff to do that and appeal to the  12 yr. old mentality/attention span that pervades-thanks to iPhones et. al. The collective depression that bleeds through into my brain and into these posts doesn't help matters much either and I still can't bring myself to get on meds and get chemically happy like so many are doing. Also, I've been censoring my own writing and am using this as a warning sign to stop.

This farewell may be a hoax though. Like Ferguson, Mo. and the 'beheading' of James Foley. It could be the Capgras delusion that is causing me to blog retreat as I'm beginning to think that my reading audience has been replaced by imposters en masse.

Either/Or way, I'm out of here. I'll continue to camp in the desert, looking for pockets of hope through a smokescreen of mirages. Dance with the dust devils at hand and put a bet on the Lotto teleology so many others are opting to train their cross hairs on, pardon the pun. All the while continuing to do my positive affirmations and open up promising neuronal pathways more conducive to manifesting my destiny.

Prior to escaping from California,  I requested a living will from my doctor when my blood pressure was all jacked up and was handed a copy of what is called the  'Five Wishes' which deals with such things as whether or not to be put on life support when one is terminally ill, where one's cremains shall be put, etc. I dutifully filled it out, but when I got to Wish # Five, I was stumped:

If anyone asks how I want to be remembered, please say the following about me:

I stared at this for about five minutes and came up with a total blank. I waited a day and stared at it some more. Nothing. Then, what I consider to be palpable remembrances, started surfacing:

Remember me as the galaxy-less space within  large scale structures, spanning billions of light years before reaching quasars in remote, inner outposts.

Remember me as someone who successfully folded Planck Time in upon itself  using sophisticated NSA algorithms and marveled as it produced rogue infinity seeds like some sub-quantum Pomegranate.  

Remember me as the guy who tried getting a patent on a trash compactor that would condense all the world's religions into a Dreidel to spin during some pan-ecumenical counsel. Which ever religion landed face up after the twirl, would then be globally enforced by whoever had control of the toy.

It would have to be a polyhedral Dreidel

JSYK-Whirlpool stole my idea and plan on selling it to the Vatican. No doubt the papal thugs are going to load the thing in their favor like Craps dice at some north Las Vegas casino.  But I'm too despondent at this time to proceed with a law suit as I'm quite wary of lawyers these days.

These are a just a few of  the things I want to be remembered for. But there just isn't enough to space to pen them in my Five Wishes pamphlet-hence me posting them on this blog rather self indulgently.

My apologies though for this morbidity. On a brighter note, it is back to feeding my beloved Antelope Ground Squirrel Sparky and using the Tolouse tuning on my guitar to play for my beloved Chuckwallas. It makes their scales iridescent, especially when I tune to 528hz.

Adios every one and thanks for visiting The Road from Ruin blog.
Acta est fabula plaudite!
All the Best,
Jaye Beldo
(C)2014-Jaye Beldo

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

The Holy Bible Review


Jaye Beldo

Ever notice how Holy Bibles are never double spaced? That's because we would then be able to read between the lines. Something I've had to learn how to do on my own in the three year journey navigating through the entire King James Version of the most infamous tome in human history. The 'inerrant' word of God for many, it has caused the shedding of more blood on this planet than any other tome compilation. And the ultimate paradox is that within its sultry pages are some very real spiritual truths and inspirations unmatched by any other literary work. One needs to appreciate the inherent metaphoric import of the bible, within both the Old and New Testaments to get to them however and this is not easy. It takes a considerable amount of cultural and societal deconditioning to do this as the poetic dimension is all but lost now, thanks primarily to the disease of biblical literalism.

Biblical literalism constricts the brain and impedes its holographic function. (I've always wanted to do CAT scans of biblical literalists and see what areas of their brains shut down). Not surprisingly, literalists rarely walk their holy talk. As an example, how many biblical literalists do you know that have cut off their right hands as suggested in Matthew 5:30?

And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.

The snake handlers of Jolo, West Virginia caught up in whirlwinds of Pentecostal ecstasy while dancing around with Copperheads and Water Moccasins would be a bit deflated if they knew that the word 'snake' simply  meant 'enemy' in Mark 16:18 and nothing literal at all:

They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.

Even though many Christians tout the bible as the word of God, you never hear them
enthusing about the passage where a woman is gang raped and then dismembered, into 12 pieces to be exact. Not exactly Sunday School fare but it's right there for your morbid perusal in the Old Testament:

And when he was come into his house, he took a knife, and laid hold on his concubine, and divided her, together with her bones, into twelve pieces, and sent her into all the coasts of Israel. 

Judges 19:29

That's two less pieces than  Osiris was divided up into!

How often do you hear Christians talk about the lurid pornography found in the bible? :

There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses.

Ezekial 23:20

Or cannibalism? :

So we boiled my son, and did eat him: and I said unto her on the next day, Give thy son, that we may eat him: and she hath hid her son.

2 Kings 6:29

Look how many literalist Christians have fallen into the  Lex Talionis AKA an eye for an eye trap. Christ would roll over in his grave, if he had one, for he preached a message of love and forgiveness.  Something Oklahoma republican Scott Esk seems to have forgotten when he publically announced that it he was all for stoning homos to death as so unequivocally spelled out in Leviticus 20:13:

If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them.

Ironically, the bible contains the most effective guidelines in regards to spiritual warfare and does not downplay evil as merely being an illusion as most eastern forms of spirituality do. It is for this very reason that I abandoned yoga and meditation-something I practiced for over 20 years. Demons are very real and so is deliverance, descriptions of which abound in the New Testament. The psalms contain some of the most sublime poetry I've ever encountered and were originally set to music of which I'm still yearning to hear and someday play.  The story of Exodus has a genetic dimension to it that you'll never hear discussed by your average preacher at the pulpit.  The story of Jacob/Esau contains some of the most profound spiritual, genetic truths as well. But these cannot be realized going to church no matter what its denomination is or how much you tithe or how often you go to bible study groups. Understanding and integrating these experiences requires one to be all alone and against all odds. I defend the bible in this regard and have done my best to live by the guidelines spelled out in Christ's Sermon on the Mount. Truly the hardest, loneliest, spiritual path I've ever encountered and I've tried everything from Tibetan Buddhism, Sufism, Kriya Yoga, Bhakti Yoga, etc. Putting oneself last and helping others is not a very appealing thing to do and you will inevitably get used/abused by other people, spit on and hated-just like Christ himself. If you have read my blog entries here-you will see that I am not lying about this.

I'll continue  re-reading the Holy Bible for the truths it does contain-all the while not falling into its many trappings in regards to belief systems, dogma, etc. all the while keeping an open mind and an even more open heart.

Recommended reading:

The Syrian Christ by Abraham Mitrie Rihbani
The author talks about the metaphoric and poetic use of language in Christ's time.
This really helped me understand the different levels of meaning in the bible.

Salt and Light by Eberhard Arnold

Arnold lived the Sermon on the Mount and he and his followers paid a very heavy price
for doing so. Walk the Talk Christianity at its finest.

Jesus and the Non-Violent Revolution by Andre Trocme

Describes the phenomena of Jubilee and the relieving of debts.
Non-existent in the age of Joel Osteen and Name It/Claim it brand of
Capitalist Christianity.

Please check out:

It doesn't get any more intense. Not for lightweights.

Part II of this review coming soon!

(C)2014-Jaye Beldo

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Craggy Wash Part II


Jaye Beldo

 Kelly, to the southeast of me, shattered her leg in an auto accident 19 years ago. She's hoping to get enough money for an MRI. Pain killers aren't doing it for her. I see her walk her three Chihuahuas Zena, Thor and Mojo every morning, using a cane to navigate the wash. She lives in a camper and was nice enough to give me a loaf of bread she got at the local food shelf. I ate some of it even though it was moldy. She fell down drunk the other night during one of her Southern style dinners, I heard from my neighbor.

A guy named Albert greeted me one day by lifting up his t-shirt to show me a nasty swath of purple that covered his entire abdomen.

"The only place that isn't bruised is where the needle went in." He said. Had the first of his many strokes in his early 20's and showed me the damage they had done, primarily to his left arm.

"Damn doctors are getting 80-90,000 dollars a year in kickbacks from the pharmaceutical companies." He put his shirt back down. "That's a lot of golfing. All on our backs."

I told him about Nattokinase-a natural blood thinner that I have been taking, after he told me that he was taking Coumadin.

Danny, mentioned in part I, kitty corner across the wash from my site, shacked up with a woman while his wife was in his beat up van about twenty yards away.  She finally had enough of her carnal rival and came out after a day or two and chased the backwoods concubine off with her crutch. I could tell Danny got laid. "How ya doing Jaye?" He would ask me, all puffed up as he hunched on by in search of dead Palo Verde branches destined for some romantic fire, ripping them off the trunks in fell swoops of Comanche virility.

I dreamed about making a sandwich and offering it to the woman also camping near my site with a NO/ DO NOT DISTURB sign magic markered on a piece of cardboard in the back window of her camper and who uses a warning horn to scare off Kelly's dogs. I heard her answering some coyotes with the thing last night. She drove away, in my dream, when I offered the sandwich, saying outloud, "NO/DO NOT DISTURB." Maybe I'll go over there today with a real sandwich in hand and see what happens. No doubt ,she'll probably blast me with the horn as a way to distract me from her Intermittent Explosive Disorder.

Lisa protects me and tells the long termers in Craggy Wash to leave me alone as I don't drink, smoke or do any drugs. Danny backed off as a result when there was nothing to be had from me. But I'm still wanting for him to do the sweat lodge ceremony he promised. Or take me to the mountain lion den where he claimed he returned a lost cub to its mother. Or pet the Ram he says edges around the cliff before the sun rises.

I love Lisa. I can be myself around her for she has nothing to lose and neither do I.  She shared her failed suicide attempt episode with me-said the snub nose .38 did a 180 on her when she pulled the trigger and the hollow point bullets fell out. She hugged me-said I was the first guy she's done this with in over ten years. I told her that I loved her but she said nothing and stared at the ground.

Climbing up on various eroded peaks before sun rise while the constellations are still bright, I pray for all the troubled souls in the wash below.

"Like trying to fix butterfly wings."  A retired English professor with a scorpion tattoo on his shoulder told me when I met he and his wife during my hike in the outback this morning.

I pray for the butterflies anyway, whether they'll ever take wing again or not.

(C) Jaye Beldo-2014


Thursday, November 6, 2014

The Glock Report



Jaye Beldo

The peroxide proprietor glared balefully at me. She had camo nail polish and fake eye lashes too. She looked up at me from a display of Glocks in a glass case.

I asked what it took to buy one.

"No proof of residency, no gun." She tapped her nails on the glass. Reeling, I felt helpless. Inadequate. And the emptiness I felt, deepened even more.

She tapped some more and one of the guns turned into a snake and slithered out of the case and crawled up my leg. A 9mm with the body of a Mojave Green. The ballistic rattler then wrapped around my arm and slammed its gun head into my palm. Its tongue flickered out of the barrel and tickled my temple.

"Like I said, no proof of residency..." 

Another gun slithered out of the case and up my right arm. The woman studied her camo nails some more and looked wearily out the window. Rattle snake venom was most likely coursing through her veins like most of the women in this town. Perhaps that is why her paradiddle incantation brought the guns to life.

I backed out of the store, thinking the sunlight would cause the snakes to scurry away but they wrapped more tightly around my arms, like a constrictors. I retreated back inside. The woman looked down into her Glock lair and smiled.

"They're yours sweetheart. Consider it a love offering. All in a semi-automatic instant."

"I'll flak a crucifix for you when I get to the range." I said and left with the snakes still attached to my arms. I got in my car and they made my arms steer through a sophisticated application of constriction at various  acu-pressure points along my arms.

But instead of a range, the Mojave Greens drove me to Hastings bookstore. I walked inside and collapsed in a divan in the back. Across from me were two women who smiled. One produced a jar of some kind of ointment.

The other reached over, swabbed some on her finger, got up came and dabbed it on my crow's feet.

"No more deep time erosion. Oleander makes the weathering of a million eons vanish in one application." She backed away and sat back down, watching my wrinkles fade.

"You'll like it here in Lake Havasu. Nerium would be good income for you. Lots of desert weathered biddies here."

The other got up and handed me a brochure. I tried to page through it and the snakes relaxed their grip on my arms so I could do so.

Money back guarantee if after five days use, the wrinkles do not vanish. I felt uplifted in an MLM kind of way.  When I looked up, the ladies were gone. I wanted to ask them if they were hawking camo nail polish too.

Driving back to my campsite, I realized that the reptilian Virgils still wrapped around my arms really were looking after me after all in this otherwise hostile land. I just needed to trust their guidance through the serpentine gauntlet they navigated me through.



(C)2014-Jaye Beldo