Ode From A Wanna-Be Cult Leader

We are much bigger than anything you’ve ever known before. Or ever will know again. And just think it is you who make us so. It’s all too beautiful, and so are you. Believe it, bank on it, for why would I say such a thing if it were not so scurrilously true. For we are, far more than most, as real as we are without trying. And I we like you, remember, we have a vested interest. We go together, to the top and over. It is we who will always be here, tirelessly championing you. And how do we know what and whom to champion? Well, let me put it like this, the Grateful Dead had Jerry Garcia, among all the other musical giants in the band, and it was he that made them superlatively great. The Cowboy has me, and Chris, and our road less traveled makes all the difference. We purposely do things – publish people – the others won’t catch on to. Folks the others won’t see greatness in. Why? Because we are great too, like you, and we would not publish you unless you were equal to or beyond us. And we like to think you are all beyond us, and few can touch us, so that’s pretty good. So please, keep writing, and share you with all your fans most especially your editors Chris and I.

 

We have no grandchildren. Nor do we want them. With us they broke the mold. We want no others. Only us, and only you. For we are special, and we will prove it. There will never be another art magazine quite like the Beatnik Cowboy. Just watch our – and your – trajectory. Oh you can dabble with others, but we will always be an anchor. We are, to put it most truthfully, the cat’s meow. Come purr with us. Furthermore, we are excruciatingly humble. We are so humble, at times, it hurts. Don’t give us a reason to be humble. Floor us with your wonderful…ability. We only want to be with you. That’s all, to the end. We want no offspring being what we should have been in the first place. Call us the Vasectomies.

 

And who are you, really? Are you what you’ve always wanted to be, or some phony trying to be what you can’t. Truth will be you being what you are, and you and we laughing at the rest. When you see yourself you will see others. The key will be seeing yourself. Can you see? Can you see we? Me? If you can come along (or go alone) we too have come to take our children home. With us you are eternally, unconditionally welcome. This goes for all, for life and beyond. Unless we don’t like you, then we’ll arrange for others to hopefully like you. Or we’ll non-persuade you to a point of happy-sadness and great confusion. No matter, you will in the long run not survive. And the sooner you understand this and get it under your ego, the better you will be able to do in this limited amount of time you have in your present mind and body. Stay healthy and keep writing, this the prescription for happiness contentment. Or just keep writing, then sickness and death won’t get you so down. Everything dies, except I suppose, viral things and death itself which must need life to not extinct itself.

Who created this idea of the finality of death anyway? Death never ends anything, it only terminates a state, a condition, for a while. When a door closes a window opens. That is, if you’ve got a house. Let us give a house, a home, for you and your mind. You are for us, such a wonderful find. Please submit and let us and others know you. Let us help the world understand your genius. And thank you for the thing that is you. You are so special. Never forget that and don’t walk out of the movie before it is over. Please try to hear me. I’m crying.

 

Relentlessly,

 

Randall

 

6/3/2016

 

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