Jimi, Bruce Lee, Jesus and me… My soul’s brief look back at 33

33 was, as I started to expect during the most painful age of 32, my most transformational year since 27, perhaps the completion of a cycle of growth that began those six years ago. At 27 I felt I hit rock bottom (underneath a giant Homer Simpson-like fall down a gigantic rocky mountain), and set off on my new lease on life, that came with a balls-to-the-wall nothing-to-lose save-the-world attitude. I somewhat learned my lesson of hanging out with shady people less, but my recklessness just turned into a rebellion with more of a cause. But last year I realized the bottom can always be deeper if you don’t totally end the habits that got you into the worst messes before, and that I indeed always will have important things to lose, potentially. The story of how that proved to be has already been written and told to a pulp, so I’ll skip the how, what and why this time.

I’ll just jump to the craziest sounding part first- I approached and began the age with a half-joking-to-myself concern that I could end up like Jesus, or some kind of modern day fall guy or “disappearance” killed off by some sick people giving into some dark forces, justified by me falling into such a rabbit hole of mixed beliefs and some kind of final concession I make as ultimate surrender to the universe. But I really didn’t want to die, or go through anything bloody (like what happened in 2011 or worse), and I knew I wouldn’t kill myself or anyone else. I reassured myself this anytime I got too weird/paranoid (mainly in jail, after a few stressful concerns happened as imagined, but also a couple times in the month after when I felt I hit the bottom of the psychological pit of purgatory I tumbled into after my release, before climbing back out). This potential delusion, that I never let take over completely, mostly faded by my first month of being 33 (and I realized I felt safer once out of jail, after a bit of readjustment), the end of 2016, which seemed like the most sacrificial year in society yet. Plus, I realized I was making my Jesushood less likely by pulling away from activism and being so “loud”, and I had not been very Jesus-like many times in life, and even if celibate by circumstance, wasn’t becoming a modern Jesus anytime soon. But I took the concept of Christ Consciousness more seriously than ever (I have that stuff ingrained in half my DNA but have been an explorer and mixer of religions/philosophies most of my life), and doable by anybody, if we stick in that frequency as much as we can, as much as is beneficial in our specific lives. Not in a strictly religious way, and not to the daily Bible-reading regimen degree I maintained in jail, but in a spiritually comfortable knowing that if you think and act in peace, and be love, and embrace forgiveness, and go about your daily life in dignity and conscious will, you have nothing to worry about from any perceived deceivers or manipulators, and after years of thinking I knew what “know thyself” meant, I finally began to truly know myself.

And the traveling I’d known on a “desire”/daydream level for decades had evolves consciously into the manifestation stage that I’d seen proven in the darkest (and a few brightest) ways possible last year, and I snapped into my travelling man mode this year, in which I’ve just begun to grasp what truly brings out the best me (and is integral to expanding my mind which I’ve always sought), something I’ve imagined and gotten tastes of for years (days at a time usually) but never until now have truly known to be true.

And it’s needless to say I haven’t reached a level comparable to the “birthday brothers” I often namedrop (Jimi Hendrix, Bruce Lee, Bill Nye- who has gotten ever closer to meeting me the more he gets on my nerves, though I was a huge fan as a kid, Jaleel White aka Steve Urkel, and James Avery aka Uncle Phil on Fresh Prince) as if it’s some accomplishment or club I have exclusive membership in, but I feel I “get them” more than ever and have missed/turned down opportunities to attain that, but it’s not exactly “me”- it’s not a competition, and I don’t feel the need to be famous, but I get their drive and their lives on the most part seemed to be close to some of my ideal lifetimes. Though I remind myself I am living the lifetime I always wanted.

However who wouldn’t be inspired by sharing a birthday with such monumental masters as Bruce Lee and Jimi Hendrix? Rebels of the system who broke through the barriers that are designed to keep famous figures on the script of what the mass message is supposed to dictate, and communicated their own revolutionary expressions through forms never before quite seen in their artful trades… Similar can be said about the others but maybe not to the gigantic extent… Though who can deny the impact “Steve Urkel” and Bill Nye, and even “Uncle Phil” had on society/entertainment? 3 of the 5 have died “young” but indeed had extremely full and fulfilling lives, or at least their personalities and accomplishments/reputations exuded that. More than anything I admire, is not their immense fame or skill, but how massively and significantly they inspired others, for generations to come, with a timeless blend of perseverance, adventurism, free-mindedness and seemingly endless elements that made them magnanimously legendary… role models for authentic ambitious, independent, philosophical, dedicated visionary creators who might not “fit in” the molds society has created for them but have the potentials to break those molds and open up even more possibilities for the future.

I don’t think I’m automatically bestowed the gift of greatness just by having the glorious 11-27 birthday, or am a second coming because I’ve been through shit and want world peace and have long hair and just finished the age Jesus died at, but I feel I’ve come down a path (of my choosing, along with some feeling of destiny) that compels me to make a difference, to lead in my own way that best puts my talents and prioritized messages/principles to some beneficial use for others, and I am continuously figuring that out… I suppose it is “taking me long”, and I’ve surely made questionable decisions along the way and maybe I’ve skipped out on one too many opportunities, or maybe I’m right on track…

Either way, as much as I hold to my own opinions and beliefs above anyone else’s (albeit with very open ears and a healthy dose of gullibility), and think no one person’s reality can be 100% “right” for another’s, I like to hold some role models up as motivations and reminders that, hey, they did it, and you have some (perhaps intangible) thing in common, so you can do it too. And doesn’t that go for pretty much anyone, who puts their mind, and will, and heart to it? If Jesus and Jimi Hendrix and Bruce Lee can do it, then I can too, so therefore you can too… And you probably have already begun. I know I have.

(And yes, I’ve heard of delusions of grandeur and messiah complex…)


Don’t Mess With Beautiful Girls

Found this “book” I wrote in I think 4th grade last week, forgot about this. I was more clever and to the point back then… mostly unedited-

“Don’t Mess With Beautiful Girls”

A Roman Myth

Written and Illustrated by Jason Nellis

Cast of Characters:
Ritzana- Beauty Goddess’s daughter
Canimale- Beauty Goddess
Shakenos- God of Earthquakes
Titinos- Evil Man

Plutanus- Ice Goddess

Mercuran- Fire God
Botanus- King of Fire Gods
Appolo- King of Ice
Jupiter- King of all Gods

A very long time ago, there was a god of fire named Mercuran. In August, it could get as hot as 130 degrees fahrenheit! That is because he made it that way. Also, Mercury is named
after him. His nickname is Augustus. He had two partners. Their names were Plutanus and Shakenos.

One of Mercuran’s partners was Plutanus, the Ice Goddess. In January, it could get all the way down to -105 degrees fahrenheit!! Her nick name was Januarius. The other assistant
was Shakenos. He was the God of Earthquakes. Once there was a 10.4 earthquake! He has no nickname.

Shakenos was in a bad mood. He hadn’t made an earthquake for two years. There is usually one every four months. Ritzana was a beautiful girl. She was Canimale’s daughter.

Canimale was the Beauty Goddess. There was also an evil man named Titinos. He was an enemy of all of them.

Once Titinos went out with Ritzana. Shakenos knew Canimale and Ritzana very well. They were like relatives. Titinos was telling Ritzana that she didn’t look good enough for him. He said that he wished that Canimale and Shakenos didn’t set them up with each other. This made her feel like she wasn’t beautiful anymore.

They were supposed to be together for two to three months. After one month, Ritzana said that he’s not good for her, either. He said: “Well then, you’re super ugly!”

Then she said: “Then leave, I never liked you anyway!”

Titinos was now very mad. Ritzana wished she didn’t say that. She surely regretted it.

Shakenos was listening the whole time. Titinos didn’t know. Ritzana did. Shakenos was
getting mad at Titinos. It was about time he made an earthquake. Titinos slapped Ritzana.

“Don’t do that, you meanie!” she said.

All of a sudden, he got even angrier! Shakenos was madder than a hungry Tyrannosaurus about this!

Shakenos face filled up with steam. Mercuran was watching, too. It’s about time he
made a heat wave. A big one.

“Please, stop!” Ritzana told Titinos as he yelled and was about to push her. Ritzana got saved just in time. She and Carmina were with the gods. All of them were mad and the heat wave got hot!

“It’s time we give him a lesson. A good one,” Carmina said.

“The lesson of ‘karma’,” Mercuran said.

“They’ve been on my side the whole time,” Ritzana said.

“You first, Shakenos,” Mercuran said.

Suddenly, there was rapid shaking. Jupiter came along. They told him what’s happening.

“This boy sure is bothering me. He deserves it,” Jupiter said.

“You can’t do this to me! Stop!!!” Titinos said.

“Keep shaking, Shakenos,” Jupiter said.

Mercuran was all powered up. Botanus came. He knew what was happening.

“Ready, set, fire!” Botanus commanded Mercuran. He fired.

All of Rome was on fire! There was a 10.10 earthquake and a four-alarm fire!! This is how the coliseum crumbled!

It was hopeless. Titinos could not destroy. Plutanus came along. Beside him was mighty Appolo. Titinos was now very weak. He feared the powers of Plutanus and Appolo very much.

Mercuran stopped firing. Shakeno stopped shaking. Rome was alright. Titinos was not. He was down.

Appolo was the king of ice. He could make the whole country of Italia (Italy) freeze two months straight!! Appolo was giving Plutanus most of his powers. Appolo was just a little less powerful than Plutanus now. Even though both of them were strong.

“Ready, start!” Appolo commanded.

“No! Stop! Please!!!” Titinos pleaded.

“You deserve it.” Said the mighty king Jupiter.

Titinos was getting froze. Appolo helped. Titinos was now frozen. Titinos has now froze to death. All of Roma (Rome) cheered. They didn’t have to do with the man of evil. No more Titinos.

“And they lived happily ever after” without an evil man.

This has been a

Roman Myth

by 🙂 Jason M. Nellis

Myths & Legends Inc.

Human Sexuality as seen by Jazoof

So instead of starting off my two months of mega-productiveness with typing up writings from jail (to balance out last year), I’ll write of a nature I rarely publicly have before, of expression of sexuality. Something I avoided thinking about much at all in jail, but of a high frequency I strived for. No this won’t get graphic or *too* personal but maybe more open than usual.

I’ve been slightly surprised at how surprised some people who’ve known me a while seem if they discover that less public “side” of me, as I guess I don’t wear my affection on my sleeve, but I know myself pretty well. I suppose this makes sense with most people who have a standard friendship and see each other less as sexual beings than as platonic friends to share conversation, ideas, experiences, philosophy, common interests, differing viewpoints, etcetera with. Or perhaps mentors/teachers, apprentices, associates, clients, public figures, spiritual beings, etc. that we know or feel the “lines” with. But we all by nature, with some exceptions, are sexual beings, regardless of others’ perceptions or relation to us.

But we seem to deny or hide this, to a degree, to protect our image and respect, both to ourselves and others… Even in our progressive and oftentimes vulgar society. I do believe sex is sacred, and this belief has grown over time… And there is no good reason I can think of to flaunt our sexual proclivities and fantasies and fetishes and walk around naked propositioning people in public. I don’t mean that or laying out all our sexual likes and dislikes on the table for all to peruse (but sure there may be a society fit for that). There is the matter of conflicting sensibilities and preferences and triggers, and mutual respect is extremely important in this realm. We don’t have to be offensive and sexist and “lewd” to express ourselves openly, and we don’t have to be prudish or celibate to approach it with respect and self-discipline. But we end up at these extremes so much in this society, and see so much deviant behavior end up in violence or disturbing inappropriateness that results in deep trauma.

And there’s of course nothing wrong with celibacy, something I’ve been most of this year and completely in jail the two months of last year, when mental discipline was at its most crucial. It can be great for spiritual growth/practice, especially if a sex life tends to be a “distraction” for some people, so one can take more time to “find oneself”. And I’m not knocking lifetime vows to God or living a desire-free spiritual path or abstinence for any personal reason- to each their own and to each spiritual belief their own believers. That takes a willpower I haven’t chosen to attempt. (Also, of course, penetration isn’t necessary for amazing orgasm/love energy transference). But if you feel the sexual being in you frustratingly trying to burst out, and your or society’s inhibitions don’t exactly feel “natural” and perhaps you feel blocked, what’s really keeping you from expressing your true sexual nature? Let your love show itself as it sees fit!

I keep almost using words like “animal” nature and sexual “creature” and even “primal”, but then I feel the mental not-so-positive connotation and interpretations triggering in readers influenced by society’s hierarchical classification of what is “beneath us” or “primitive” and thus “not good enough” or “gross”. Ew. But not everything we come from or came before us, or if you believe differently, what looks different from us, is Bad. Or stupid. Or deviant. Or slutty. Oh, on that note, I also don’t mean “expressing oneself” is a free ride ticket to sleep with anyone and everyone and wave it around as justification to not be subjected to some broken hearts’ objections/freakouts/fallout. With great freedom comes great responsibility.

Anyway, as mature as we think we are as a society (I think we’ve been having a huge wake up call lately that we’re still pretty adolescent), including myself, we sure still have a lot of taboos and limitations and expectations that our inner horndogs (I’m abandoning word sensitivity) can’t explain. And then when that “beast” surfaces after all that repression, it can overcome our necessary sense and wisdom and sensitivity, depending on the person and/or culture, yielding potentially undesirable or detrimental results, and creating victims (emotionally, mentally and physically).

Balance is a challenge in everything, and as it can be in most areas, sexuality may be the biggest feat of all to harmonize, for many of us. What feels right to us is different for all and I know I’m not changing any minds. But I feel the call to express my true self more, which I feel I’ve done pretty good at in the philosophical/political arenas, but my love center is integral to who I am, and the core expressions primarily reserved for loved ones and I am happy with that, while I can express my universal feelings genuinely on a platonic/acquaintance friend filled forum such as this to further my fulfillment and exploration of self… without worrying about how weird, or depraved, or prudish, or sex-obsessed, or sexless, or self-obsessed.. people may think I am (if you feel any of those ways, feel free). (Oh but I guess I’m not fully comfortable enough in my expression to let some family see this, therefore not public; feel free to deem me a hypocrite)

Oh and if you consider yourself spiritual, and view sex as low-vibration, aside from traumatization, again to each their own but why?? That’s the whole classifying animals and well the whole thing driving the continuance of the human species, procreation, as “lesser than us”, and you wouldn’t be here today if not for it. And what of tantra… No that’s not just about sex whatsoever, and western culture has really selectively narrowed it down to something “exciting” and many lose the core principles… Many spiritual disciplines hold it as a key to transcendence and higher realms, and no drugs necessary, maybe even easier than meditation for some… And you can’t deny having that “high vibration” feeling during and after it at least sometimes in your life, right? Maybe bad experiences have left you feeling it’s a negative thing, and I am NOT belittling anyone’s trauma… But hopefully if you’ve been harmed sexually you can one day again have a positive experience… And if you view sex (with good intent) as high vibration/frequency and encounter someone who views it as low vibes, maybe it’s best you don’t do it with them, as they may end up imprinting some of that bad feeling onto you. Or maybe you’re meant to be the catalyst who raises the vibratiom, but of course, common sense, don’t pressure them to change their thinking, and certainly never manipulate. Along with the beautiful power of sex comes great danger; that power should NOT NOT NOT be abused. Again, no shame in expression of passion and love, but sex is sacred.

I guess I’m just preaching to the choir now anyway, in my weird rambly way, to this choir of sexually-created human beings. And I feel I’ve expressed enough for the day. I’m certainly no expert and have a whole lot to learn and may think this was idiotic in ten years. If any virgin friends are on facebook (the ones I know are aren’t on here, hmm), don’t take my word for it. (Read a book!) (No wonder why I’m single?)

(And again I totally get the not giving in to desire/spiritual/religious angle, and I salute you if you choose that path, but I don’t get the shame, anymore… Oh and fear of disease/pregnancy makes sense, though there are precautionary options)

Open mic piece from Justice for Our Desert

At Nevada Desert Experience‘s “Justice for Our Desert” festival at Rebar’s Funkyard on Sep. 9th, I performed my first open mic in 3 years (4 since I got banned for a comic performance gone wrong but so right, seen here). Well since I don’t know of any video that was taken, I’ll throw up the thing I read last week at the Justice for our Desert fest at Rebar’s Funkyard, that I texted to myself on the way there, nothing amazing:

I can’t help that my mind’s eye tends to see in words that rhyme, so excuse me while I dive high into the infinite sky blind, armed with only a key, wondered why, tried the nearest lock but it wouldn’t unwind, fell down the hole of my mind, hit the bottom pit and unlocked my eye, saw all around till I realized I was in the ocean with everybody else combined… Then I saw a tide that made me afraid, countering the flow of the waters brave, menacing our kinds like a tidal wave, trying to engulf us all into a cage, watching our mutual destruction on a stage. But there’s no reason for us to wait, Don’t let the hate decide your fate, welcome the love whether it be from above, or within your skin, it never dims if you keep the lens, shining bright with your life’s insight, illuminating minds as wise as time, taking the low vibes by surprise, raising reality beyond what the liars can comprehend, mending the world beyond the end, to a higher state than us versus them, healing the sick and rallying the lost, ignoring those who say they’re the boss, turning TV into an empty box, living by laws only made by existence, thriving by means beyond resistance, experiencing the world we want in every instant, harmonizing ourselves with our community and upgrading the collective instinct, global love isn’t impossible, local love is certainly wantable, but we gotta reach out across the manufactured fault dividing us, and bridge the gap before it all cracks and we fall into the past, we can come together for the next and final time which is when they’ll realize they can no longer hide and they can’t even fight, no match for our in-sight, so they will just retire into the night… And we will behold a new kind of sight.

Picture by Kelly Patterson

A pre-eclipse stream of thought

There is undoubtedly a unique sense of enormity in the anticipation of the “Great American Eclipse”, a sociological spectacle centering on a cosmic alignment, with the mass of humanity seeming to be wrapped up into some kind of hoopla, while usually or striving for a way to be
with one’s self and many have made it this far… So here we are, at this final anticipation of something that we know is cyclical, we may have other chances at seeing total eclipses (depending), but you know you want to experience this. Or you don’t. It might be too intense, and some cultures advise against it, such as the Navajo. And here in Las Vegas it’ll be 72%, partial, as with much of the country, but it is the first coast to coast in 99 years… eclipses have
been shown to affect gravity, and the general balance in the field whereas many people  encounter sleep difficulties, tensions, mood swings and higher energies. So I’d think it’s a good idea to meditate and ground.
The overtly divisive political overtones in the most tumultuous historical time experienced by
most people in our lifetimes, in America, is worrisome, but we need to transmute this negativity
into positive change, a higher level of understanding, and from the heart. I saw a wording in an
article saying how this brings “nationalistic pride” to the country… the wording in itself (“The Great American Eclipse”) is interesting and well you’ve heard about the president being born
under an eclipse, and I don’t yet know if he’s giving a speech or anything. Anyway, the vibe is all
strange right now and that’s how it gets around one of these… I can just imagine but barely of the totality, not in the cards for me this time, but I’m all hyped up about this one. But I feel it’ll be beautiful, people will look at things in a new light.
I or we could be projecting these things, and there is certainly a wide web of souls each with a unique consciousness and worldview… I am mainly considering the millions of people flocking to the state of Oregon and other states in its path, and the undeniable social upheaval that has been occurring lately. It may be self-fulfilling prophecy… not sure how many of us have worried
about it coming in the past, but we can see that fear gets us down a path that we’re not so sure about having chosen at times… though then I suppose that is part of the wilderness we live in.
So the moon gets in front of the sun. It seems logically like a thing that happens once in a while, and is, but this time we’re getting it all on our national land, and we are going to celebrate (if we’re up early enough). And meditate, and create, and any other -ate. Or sleep. In the path of totality, of twilight at high noon, the image in my mind astounds and mystifies me as I realize I can not fully grasp it. Well light will return, people will rejoice, and the land will be lit anew… and what people plan to put into action, I bet, will yield results pretty quickly.
I do put myself in a skeptical point of view often to be careful but there is a core truth that I keep returning to… and what it is English language (or any I know) can’t really describe… even if it’s all projection, it is a whole lot of human consciousness agreeing upon a focal point and.. that seems like a lot of potential. The background noise is as loud and rackety as it could be and it keeps
going by in front of your door, but we’re in our homes, securing ourselves in our own being, ready. I don’t have a proper metaphor for the outdoors here but it’s something along the lines of a mass transaction of energy and its reverberations.

I basically would love to see everyone just calm down, no matter what it is (I can still calm down more about the eclipse), enjoy life, and not have expectations of others or what reality is. Don’t feed into fear, hate of any other group, it’s clear that violence begets violence and it’s only downhill from there. Some people think it’s inevitable that we go down a certain path, but we’ve seen what can happen to “inevitable”…
Well, this phenomenon comes at a pivotal time in history and maybe it really is the “fifth sun” or sixth, or the dawning of the age of Aquarius, or the singularity, but what about when the sun comes out again and all feels the same? Was it just some mass hallucination? Or pre-trip jitters?
Or… is it real? I guess it’s all what we believe. Or what we’re here for. Part of it for us all to share, however we choose to frame this world. Remember your special glasses.


And Jerry Lewis died today. I think we’re ready for the next step.




<I>(yes, I will get back to writing solid articles soon, what an interesting year it’s been…)</I>


The following is a letter sent to Sheriff Lombardo and all whom it may concern, about the ordeal suffered by our friend Vera, witnessed by George Killingsworth, my new friend and first walking buddy for the Sacred Peace Walk we took part in last week, the most nonviolent protest action I’ve ever attended (not that any I attend have any intent of violence anyway and almost all swear to peacefulness, though the principles of this annual tradition are what make it what it is), following their arrests for unlawful assembly (civil disobedience of blocking an entrance to Creech Air Force Base; personnel were simply rerouted to the next entrance)… None of us expected any brutality to be inflicted or suffered by our peacewalkers. Vera is a longtime peace activist friend of mine (here we’re pictured on the news side-by-side in a similar yet less pre-planned action at one of the early police brutality protests in 2014) and we were all worried when we heard this and that she was detained for several more hours than her fellow arrestees. I also have video of other protesters’ eyewitness accounts. This is George’s story:





On Tuesday, April 11, 2017 I was arrested and detained for eight hours while being booked in the Las Vegas Clark County Detention Center [CCDC].   I was arrested along with four other companions for our protest of crimes being planned and committed in our name at Creech Airforce Base.

This was my second experience of being detained at CCDC and as an 81 year old retired Clergy-person I have made many hundreds of visits with parishioners in jails and prisons over the years.  I have no expectation of being treated gently while under arrest, but I do expect simple respect.

You affirm the following standards in your STATED VALUES:

On April 11, I witnessed violations of all of these values .. and herein detail one particularly egregious abuse.

To assure the safety of staff and fellow prisoners in is understandable that during the initial booking process personal items and possessions must be surrendered and held and trust until discharge.  Most of my possessions were surrendered to the arresting officer at Creech and after entering CCDC I also surrendered my shoes, rings and elastic hair band.  Booking officers removed my handcuffs and watched me as I removed my rings and hair band.  Thereafter I was re-cuffed and walked to a seating area along with 40 or more other prisoners where we all awaited the next step in the booking process.

From where I was seated I could see across the room to where I had just undergone the initial booking step.  I was alarmed when I heard the cry of one of my Creech arrestee companions [Vera Anderson] and watched as her hair was roughly pulled despite her understandable supplications.

Officer Womack not only ignored my companion’s pleas, but escalated the rough physical and verbal abuse … recklessly pulling and actually cutting my companion’s hair to remove the elastic bands.  Unlike my case, my companion’s cuffs were never removed and she was not invited to remove the bands from her own hair.   Understandably she did turn her head to minimize the pain being inflicted .. and this was evidently seen by Officer Womack as insubordination, whereupon Officer Womack and two other male Officers threw my friend on the floor pummeling her and unnecessarily restraining her with their fists and knees.  Then she was thrown into a restraining chair with tight chains on her ankles and wrists.  She was then wheeled around a corner of the waiting room to where fewer witnessing eyes could witness the additional “processing”.

It is worth noting that my companion who was so excessively and unnecessarily abused is African American and Officer Womack, like myself, is White.  As is so routinely the case, people with my skin color receive undeserved preferential and privileged treatment.  Sadly Officer Womack’s violently abusive behavior illustrated that Black Lives Matter Much Lessto those with unrestrained power and authority.

Hours later in the prolonged booking process, Officer Womack ordered two other prisoners and myself around the corner of the room to line up for mug shots.  As it turned out I was the last in this line of three and found myself standing beside my friend in the restraining chair.  I quietly asked her if she was still in pain whereupon Officer Womack yelled at me to “shut the fuck up” and come to the front of the line to have my photo taken.  I followed her command whereupon she changed her mind and had another Officer walk me back to the waiting room where I was re-cuffed and seated in an area with other “difficult” prisoners.

In the course of my eight hour detention, I repeatedly asked for food and nourishment .. my requests were ignored.  I repeatedly asked to make a phone call [there were three phones on the waiting room wall].  I was told that I could not make a call because I was soon to be discharged.  After this last denial I was put into a final stage holding cell together with 12 other prisoners where I was held for three hours.

This three hour period was the most treasured part of the day for me.  Locked in the holding cell there were no guards to disrespect us, abuse us and provoke us.  We shared life stories and friendships were made that have continued following discharge.  One new friend literally gave me the shirt off his back.  Another extremely talented holding cell friend treated us to amazing hip hop poetry and rap spoken word performance art.  He has several stunning videos on youtube and I believe he will surely make his future mark as a brilliant poet and performer.  None of us were or are angels … but surely the most human interaction we enjoyed that day was during those three hours locked together in the holding cell protected from disrespectful guards.

Everyone in the CCDC booking room that day should have been presumed innocent until proven otherwise in Court and therefore deserving of and treated with respect … as your stated values affirm.

I urge you to discipline Officer Womack and maybe even remove her from positions where she can continue her violently disgraceful and likely racist abuse.

Thank you for hearing me out.

Rev. George Killingsworth


2016: The Year of Death… and Rebirth

The huge “trend” of 2016’s theme lately is clearly that this year sucked, that it was full of death and disappointment, and I felt like that for a while, like it was some bottomless pit, until things couldn’t get any worse and I thought- hey, it can only be up from here, and there’s got to be huge lessons to gain from all the pain. I decided to give my next article this morbid name while I was in jail, thinking about the strange year that had been going past and partly referring to the state of mind I felt was going through a transformation or at least major growth process… though no I am not going to preach a Born-Again sermon. I had mainly been referring to the large-scale collective/cultural phenomenon of major famous or infamous celebrities, of larger-than-life public figures, dying at seemingly unexpectedly premature times. Prince, David Bowie, Muhammad Ali, Alan Rickman, Gene Wilder, Antonin Scalia (a different kind of “celebrity”, perhaps not larger-than-life but a strange sounding death), Anton Yelchin (again not “huge” but realllly weird circumstances), and many more in the first nine months of the year.

Though on a more personal and local/friends-and-family scale, I was feeling unsettled with a few passings of loved ones (for those who already know, this was all before the passing of my grandmother), such as my very good friend- one of my best friends, outspoken activist and brilliant writer, Sean Gruber- tragically pushed beyond his limits by the harassing intimidating tactics of the LVMPD; my grandma’s Godson/cousin’s father, Arthur; and my new amazing friend Alia. It all started off with the death of Alia Nicole Hajaj a friend I had made just a year before, a glowingly amazing-spirited girl, who lifted the spirits around her whenever she graced them with her multi-colorful presence, well into the discovery of her cancer that doctors thought would kill her about a year earlier. I wish I got to know her better but our short bondings and the impression she left on me, along with some things I learned after her death, affected my life deeply and I will always feel a part of her with me, as well as with the expressive artistic community she powerfully affected here in Vegas. She was also the reason I went to a hospice for the first time ever, and not the last person I visited in hospice last year.

This was all before my arrest on September 17, 2016. My grandma took a fall on September 11, wounding her head, breaking three vertebrae- two in neck and one in her lower back, and experiencing her worst stroke yet- an ischemic. My arrest/jail details are too lengthy for this topic, but it was basically for singing/yelling along to the an upbeat folksy version of the NWA song “F**k The Police”. I got out of jail on November 8th, at 8pm, at the time the election polls closed (I had decided early in the year this would be the first time I’d most likely skip the elections since I became of voting age, anyway), at which time I asked a few fellow inmates being released who was winning, and they said “Trump”- to which I laughed, but they maintained serious faces and I realized they were serious (again, I didn’t see a difference either way and would not have voted for either- but I saw this as a huge surprise given Hillary seemed to be the destined royal heir). November 8th was one of the best days of my life, having been released after nearly two months of the psychological/spiritual challenge of my lifetime, back with the one I loved since just before jail.

3 and a half days later, my grandmother died. To me, of course, she overshadowed all deaths and losses of the year, with a status no celebrity could ever achieve in my worldview. She was 99 years old (about 4 months away from 100) and died in hospice after deterioration from an infection developed while in a temporary nursing home. I at least was able to talk to her in her final days, though she was unconscious (although, I swear she heard and responded with her eyes moving and mouth moving/puckering quite a bit- as they say, the hearing is the last to go), which she had been starting a few days before I was released from jail. Hours before her passing, I went through a breakup (or initially a break; saved until after jail for courtesy of my sanity I suppose), so of course the proximity of events weren’t planned by any hand of man, but it’s safe to say it wasn’t a great day. November 12th will go down as one of the worst days in my life, in which I felt or perceived a piece of myself die. But the sunset was beautiful, almost as I imagined it in a dream from early in my jail stay, the most beautiful skies I’d ever seen in that dream framework.


Since then there have been bumps and facing losses head-on and moments of closure, and I feel the world brightening up even more than it did on 11-8, though that night had a feel of “too good to be true”… this new and wondrous time has a feel of “it must be true”. Since my grandma’s viewing service, and after making a video tribute to her life, a wave of luck (happening to involve 8s) seemed to set in, especially that night (of November 30th), with very clear signs of more higher-hands at work and play. My mood has shifted from the most drastic waves and pits I’d ever felt, to a peaceful and ecstatic calm, hopeful and returning to faith of a beautiful, bright future. The return of lucidity and clarity I felt in jail, with all the factors of my captive person playing on my perspective, now released, and breaking out of the psychological captivity that my mind clung onto in the weeks following my release, and my outside-world traumas. The “real test”, as would be repeatedly spoken of in jail, came upon returning to the outside.

The challenges were quite personal and primarily involving relationships and loss, and I have been noticing many friends/people going through heavy life changes lately of their own. It may just be some social trend or phenomenon of perception of “things getting crazier” or a “speeding up” of time or novelty to a “singularity” or something objective, and I’m sure I’m getting crazier, but doesn’t it seem like something kinda strange is going on? Or some kind of upheaval, on the micro and macro?


Well apparently, now (since starting this article over a month ago), most people seem to be thinking that way, the way I was thinking about the period or “transition” our world was entering some years ago when people would give me blank stares or call me crazy or well, quickly change the subject and quickly get me quiet on it, so I would just find my crazy little internet corners to go find solace in. Perhaps that’s still looking into it too much and this is just a pendulum swing and next year will be “calm”, or it’s just a side effect of higher population and accelerating technology and social media saturation… but I do think a lot of this is attributable to a shift of the ages… a mass awakening, if you will, and shedding of attachments, material-centered conceptions, and a whole reworking of how we perceive the world works in general.

Those that we have perceived as gods of modern music have been leaving the Earth in droves… I am certainly not saying that Prince or David Bowie or Leonard Cohen or George Michael are outdated… but times, they are a’changin. Perhaps this is some subliminal yet overt message that there is a new sound now… I don’t mean EDM (and it’s taken me decades to build a kind of enjoyment for that), but who knows… I’m suggesting a new frequency, a new vibration that is here for us to embrace and ride and compose. And perhaps they’re passing on the instruments to us.

We may not control our fate but I believe we can design the paths we take to get to the fate we desire or know we’re headed towards at our core, and perhaps we designed all paths or all destinations before we “came here”, or perhaps a higher creator force/God did, and perhaps an agreement between the “two”… or three. But once we get the map or directions we don’t just lay it on the table and expect to get to the destination happily or easily. It is up to us to lead the path and take the turns we feel in our hearts/soulds/minds are what we should take… as well as the choice to diverge or experiment and explore the wilderness.


Overall, I figured death would be an interesting theme to place on the year, but a bit dark and maybe forceful/exaggeratory seeming (before I saw it coming from all directions and “trendy”… and then rebirth came as the natural following theme as it was the transition I seemed to be going through internally and during continued life (and no near-death experiences I can recall this year), as many people that have been through any “death” and continued on living may identify with the term rebirth… eh? Well then of course came real death in the family and by then I felt prepared, aside from her five years of dementia and physical signs. But preparation is a tricky word, for who knows what exactly the outcome of a traumatic event will be?

55 days of captivity surely gave me a lot of time to “prepare” for whatever I was to face on the outside, and I knew a lot was at stake and in store. My grandma’s (second guardian) life, my brand new love of my life, my mom’s well being, and my sanity. And perhaps the world’s sanity. Several were lost, but I have a whole lot to care for and love, still. And I like to think I’m still relatively sane (but insane enough).

All in all I came out of it eager to get back to the challenges of the old and very new world (again, election night) while realizing and adjusting to the reality of the immensity of the change from one confined place to this endless world of (still limited) choices, an innumerable amount of which could lead me back to where I just was, which was and is and will continue to be very unappealing to me. Above all the adaptation effort and anxiety, there was a whole world of opportunities awaiting, and glorious plentiful freedom. Limited again by the law and money (of which the law wants as much as it can get from you, but that’s not where this article is headed- sorry usual readers).

Actually, this blog piece thing does have some sort of “political” message involved… I was already leaning toward this step in my evolution or thought process anyway, but jail definitely nudged me more in the direction of peace and understanding and resolution (still support revolution) than immediate response and acting aggressively with emotions, thinking irresponsibly/lack of thinking straight and self-righteousness, and building on the concepts of compassion, true justice, faith, tolerance, and other values and issues I wrote about to occupy my mind in there… The whole ordeal “vindicated” me as one friend said, in ways, but I was not going to wave a flag about it or turn it into some sob or show-off story, which i hope it hasn’t come across as when I’ve talked about it endlessly, because it’s just a very significant lump of time and reference point in my modern life history that at least is becoming a smaller fraction of my memory and recent reconditioning (attempt) as time passes.


I may have subconsciously come up with this title after a deep metaphysical and personal psychological experience of the “epiphany” sort last Spring. I felt a familiar sensation but not one I had so vividly felt before, in my daily-access memory… that of “remembering”, not quite a specific event, or even my life up until now, but something beyond, encompassing this life, my birth, and what seemed to even be a concept of death, and the realm or containing dimension “around” that… as if this life, including the entryway and the exit, are one object that may be perceived from the “outside” and we are here for a purpose, or to learn some kind of lesson that we can at least identify at certain points in our lives… perhaps an ever-changing lesson, and we seem to have free will and capability of choice while in this life to take the paths that will determine who we are, our character, how we decide our stories will play out. Perhaps our character is pre-existing and we will always have made the choices we made in every moment, but this appearance of free will may be completely necessary for us to have motivation to continue living, or to choose whether we believe in free will or not based on our mental/spiritual/genetic framework. Anyway, personally, I felt that the year to come was going to be an immense challenge and I would need to be there for my family- identified at the time as my mom and grandma- more than ever, and to be the best I can be… and then I would be set more solidly on my path of “success”, whatever that may mean to me.

Well I recently- and this is the one paragraph (or two or more, however many until I’m finally done) that I am writing well into 2017 and at a point which I realize barely anyone may have made it reading this far- had a brief “part two” to this experience of “remembering” or what some may perceive as a “transcendental” experience, after all that had gone on this past year and feeling that what was meant to happen, happened… and that I am being there for my mother as much as I feel I can, when she needs it more than ever since her mother’s passing, which is also the most challenging experience of such in my life. I recently felt that this is how it must be, and still I am making my own choices of my own free will, something that I felt confirmed during my very reflective time in jail, combined with a spiritual experience that seemed to prove to me there is a grand cosmic design, with an extremely dark sense of humor, along with a very wise, powerful manner of teaching important lessons. Some lessons seem to get right to the heart of what this entire life is about, and even might have some kind of effect or resonance on that “container” of this life, birth, and death period… when those closest to us die, there seem to be shockwaves in all directions, such as some may perceive in sudden dramatic global or cultural events… we may not comprehend what those shockwaves emanate from, especially before they happen, but I think that they do indeed go outward in time, a construct made linear by man’s mind. We can probably identifty different kinds of shockwaves after the event, or loved one’s death, even sometimes having epiphanies or feeling some deep new knowledge or lesson seemingly passed on by them or as a necessary coping or growth mechanism… though we can also sink into the depths of grief, despair, and helplessness, and lose sight of the beauty of life if we let the darkness overcome.

I feel like my time in jail, the 2 months that ended days before my grandma’s death, were a preparation period for me, a form of the shockwave in one way, as well as for my mother, the most challenging time of our lives- one in which my mother gradually thought my grandmother would make it home ok, and in which I prepared for the worst… but continued to hope for the best. After a while I *had* to have faith in “the best”, or that at least things would be better than they were in jail once I got out. Some of these things did turn out to better, some turned out to manifest as the fears I tried to avoid thinking about most in jail… yet that struggle of avoidance and temptation of the radical range of thoughts in there took my attention to so many scenarios.

Above all, I decided, I wrote, and wrote and wrote, on reflections of what I was learning there, of what I wanted to work on (myself and creatively) once I would be released, and how to contribute to bettering the world, and helping my family, in whatever ways I could. And I knew the return to “normalcy” (which I never really had a firm sense of), or relatively smooth adaptation, would take a while and great effort, and I felt more motivated than ever. I knew it was the transition of a lifetime, and while I had some hopes that didn’t quite pan out as this new phase in life, I looked at every setback, disappointment, and deep frustration that made me scream into my jail bed mat, and got right back to figuring out how to move forward and where to shift focus.  This instilled in me a new discipline, dedication, and motivation to be “the best I can be”, the first strength of such (sober) kind I had felt in decades… arguably, the biggest transformation since I was 27, 5-6 years ago, in which I had several near-death experiences, but this truly felt like rock bottom, and paralleled with my grandma’s death, appeared to present a message I would be making a gigantic mistake to ignore or take for granted.

I was so worried about the rising tension in the nation, and how it would handle the coming elections, the most foreseeably polarizing event in the political history of our lifetimes… and I ended up getting out when the results came in. I didn’t get quite the sense of chaos I worried about months or longer before when I imagined what it would be like if Trump won. Basically, it did feel like an inevitability of a universe gone nuts and that apparentlty I agreed to ride out this crazy ass timeline, and well a revolution is what I’ve wanted, and well this would seem the most likely route to propel us through that threshold.

Anyway, like I said this isn’t a political article (but how can any 2016-themed piece not mention the election/division), so enough of that angle, but I heard and then noticed that many other people I knew were also going through extremely tumultuous times, spiritual transformations and upheavals, and by the final weeks of the year I was blown away by the amount of friends and acquaintances mourning the losses of loved ones, specifically close relatives… and the celebrities, especially the archetypal figures. I mostly didn’t feel very surprised, but still overwhelmed by the quantity, as it felt like a sort of fractal lesson that was blanketing or spreading all over society… or a spiritual shock and shaking of so so many of our personal foundations and living attachments, right down to our genetic core, our blood, and part of the revelations I experienced in jail- the national/global moral or identity crisis was more of a macrocosm of what we experiencing on the individual and familial scales, or microcosmic breakdowns and apocalypse- unveiling of deep truths and shattering of illusion- and for that to happen tragedy may often be the catalyst… and suddenly the large-scale social issues didn’t seem as concerning… or at least not to me, after a decade of deep concern and sometimes obsession over the dark “powers that be” in politics and society. I felt the old me had died (not literally) and this new worldview, involving factors of natural growth and accelerated growth due to strenuating circumstances, was coming in not nice and easy, but with the pains of birth… and the psyche can feel quite strained when the metamorphosis hits hard and fast and forces you to catch up with your new self, the self with the upgraded capabilities to handle whatever new environment/world you’re about to emerge in. And jail was basically my cocoon stage, a really restrictive mentally-testing larva period… the release and turn of events that followed were the biggest challenge of all.


We come into this life through pain… the pain of our mothers, and who knows how it felt on our own bodies, but that transition of womb to this air-filled earthly light of man and sun must have been traumatic… and who knows what we might remember from before then if there were some smoother transition and preparation. Or I suppose perhaps if our brains were more fully used also, somehow. Even in growing up through adolescence, we get “growing pains”, and kids go through all kinds of physical, psychological, and in some ways spiritual traumas and challenges, and from that we all grow and learn. So it makes sense that we will continue to go through these growing pains, and transformational traumas, and even perhaps “rebirths” into our adulthood. And since society has seemed to grow and pass through maturity stages as well (with many setbacks, see current era), I don’t think it’s a major stretch to say society/species/civilization may go through these painful phases and traumatic transitions right when we need to learn a lesson or be “reborn”… and perhaps, seeing how research into frequencies and energy has yielded some very substantial evidence that such factors are “real” in this universe, large-scale periods of upheaval and radical change may at times align with widespread personal-level experiences of comparable change.


I feel we should embrace chage and growth, and push our way through the pain that comes with it… not embrace or endorse inflicting pain to bring about desired change, but the pain that may come upon oneself or on a larger scale that is a natural and inevitable way of life, that must be dealth with either sooner or later. And repeatedly as I thought in jail, well, when it rains it pours, and bring on whatever it is that needs to happen to open the doors for growth- because by nature we are survivors, and we want to live in the face of odds stacked seemingly against us… and while dying doesn’t mean losing, facing death is a part of life, whether it be our own or our loved ones, and when our loved ones come to that point of crossing from life to death, we come face to face with what will happen to us one day.

Until then, we can make the most of the time we have, whatever we think comes next. Or we can live our lives in a prison, whether it be physical, psychological, or emotional… it took me physical captivity and spiritual/psychological exploration, and the death of the 2nd closest person to me in my life, (oh and the harshest breakup yet), to really make completely clear and stamp deep into my mind the need for personal restructuring, internal revolution, and complete life renewal- and I’ve seen something similar happen with the world, though perhaps a bit more chaotically (or at least in our country) and with more work to be done (myself included), and we should keep 2016 in mind anytime we may slip from being humble, lose faith that all will work out, or feel disempowered or perhaps feel too much power… and do not let a good rebirth go to waste.


Rest in peace grandma Phyllis, uncle Arthur, Sean, Alia, Bowie, Prince, Gene, Debbie, Carrie, and the many many others who left us in 2016…