25. 1973 Jackson Square New Orleans

1973 New Orleans

I rented an apartment off Bourbon Street. I had that apartment for a month then I moved to a house. I have kept some diaries of some years so I can speak from written memory at times which is so much better than remembered memory. All this is so different now when everyone is writing their life- story in their blogs that diaries have become such a permanent way to keep track of what is going on.
Or permanent until the owner of the blog deletes or upgrades or begins to charge for the blog then it all gets lost. Written diaries in pen and paper will always be more permanent than computers will be for at least another thirty years. Of course, by then life may no longer exist after 120,000 years of evolution so it will not matter in what way information is stored.
There will be a time in the future when all the records of civilization will exist but there will be no one here to read it. My living conditions in New Orleans always reflected my income. If I were not doing well then I would live in a smaller and dumpy place. I was working at a restaurant as well selling many picture-poems, so I rented a house. I opened a small store at 927C Bourbon Street and named it Tiphareth.

Tiphareth is the centre point on the Tree of Life on the Qabalah – Kabbalah. As the information in the Kabbalah follows the patterns of the sacred geometry that forms our reality, I studied it for several years alongside the Tarot and astrology. The Kabala is an ancient Hebrew mystical system of thought. Sphere 6, Tipererth, is associated with the sun, harmony, beauty, perfection, unity, and creation, all ideal keywords for an art shop. I sold my picture- poems along with jewellery and some sort of weaving stuff that a girl I was living with made. I think her name was Maggie, I am not sure, she was a schoolteacher, and I sort of remember we were together until she brought up something about marriage or something permanent. I am not quite sure, but our relationship ended quite abruptly. I am sure she was a lovely girl even though I do not recall her exactly now except she wanted more than I could give her, which at the time was my life. She suddenly moved out of both my house and out of the shop and I never heard from her again. Several others sold art and crafts in my shop, but it never was a successful enterprise. I recently found a diary from that year and sure enough, her name was Maggie.

From a diary I found amongst stored memorabilia I have dragged around the planet for much too long…

January – selling pp at Tipererth shop/ working at restaurant/selling PP in Jackson Square/writing lots of poems – several a day – mostly for my pp’s/ with Maggie/stoned every day – stoned going to work – smoked all day/cat named Pandora/

January 18th, 1973

“alone in first time in own home alone in nine years and I love it, I hate it – need – need to get stereo, typewriter, television, telephone couple more astrological books, a desk, a pound of good weed and my way of living alone will survive – no fears – if I can work till Mardi Gras think I will be somewhat together – wrote parents to come down April first, hope it manifests. Working at Tiphareth.

Maggie over we are not together she left very upset but for the first time I can meet me – get to know who I am and I think I can mellow out and slow down and be able to help people if only I can live alone without anybody’s influence – have a lot of problems of identity – don’t know who I am – relationships are a threat now – hoping to get “A song of Joy” finished by June 15th – stoned now – grass – alone with my cat Pandora – thinking of going to Europe this summer”. 11.30 PM 1020 ½ St. Phillip Street

“If I were a shadow
I would be yours” Jan.19th

January 27thtook three hits of mescaline = painted 160 pictures – took two hours to do it and two hours to clean up. END OF VIET NAM WAR

– Dell stopped in, brought some good LSD.

January 28th met Missy and went to bed

with her

January 30th Maggie stayed overnight

“Color is the angel of love”
End of January – bought two ounces of pot
for $24

“And when they said it was going to rain the clouds got together
and went to the market to buy glass
to make windows
for the sun to shine through in rainbows
of hope” 2/01

“if I could caress you until it rained there would be no more fires
upon the earth” 2/03

February 12 – met T – involved with her

for next few months (as it turned out I was involved with her on and off for most of 1973 and I had
limited contact with her over the next thirty -five years.

I was selling picture-poems
alongside Jackson Square in New Orleans
reading astrology charts to the lovely
telling each how well our charts matched
"my Mars to your Venus -  
what a night we shall we have"
and selling esoteric sacred secrets to the Christians   
when I saw her standing there
reading my picture-poems
She said what my poems said shouldn' t
be said
noon would)
she came and told me that every day at
But I paid no attention         
like any man Until the day she took me to her home
somewhere north in the constellation of Andromeda
(the chained lady)
I met her anthropomorphic parents a tree and a shirt
Then I awoke twenty-years later
in this small harbour town
on a large island North of Antarctica
where I began selling picture-poems
(poems saying what shouldn’t' t be said)
in a park again
(come and purchase your picture-poems at Rymill Park on Sundays in Adelaide that
aren' t rainy or windy 9-5)
But I watch for her like a criminal does for justice
knowing someday
it will all make sense
and I will be like everyone else
free of me.
4-17-94 Victor Harbor South Australia

February 18th and 19th took mescaline February 19th “visit Rita with Tam...,
Vodka, laughter – closeness – eruption – gentleness
– home dinner with T++,Dell etc in midst of
spaghetti dinner – good mescaline – etc. laughter – patterns coming together – rings, jewels – love”.

February 22nd doing well in park – sold metal frame pictures at $25 each “home, cleaned, smoked, wine, sleep, awake, Tam...

February 23rd broke up with Tam...

February 24thletter from Chialeah she is on “the way”

March first week during Mardi Gras sold 19 PP in one day

March 9th Barbara, Bridget, Brinks – (this is from my diary and I have no recollection of who to associate this name with or whether in fact thisrepresents three females or one I have no idea. There is nothing for this name on the Internet.

The Internet is stupid. I know. I did a Masters and a PhD on the topic back in the 1990s. Now in 2015, twenty-five years after being invented it is junk. My wife cannot get Internet at school because everything is blocked, my friend Marta is in Maine this week and can barely get Internet, search engines are ridiculous. I rarely find what I am looking for which is usually someone from the past. Finding people is almost impossible unless you have a name created to be findable like Terrell Neuage or Terrell Adsit or Arthur Adsit. A couple of decades ago I would put something up and be on the top of a browser now no matter what keywords or browser friendly things I do I am lucky to be on page twenty of a browser. I use the Internet primarily for a spell check – anything else is a waste of time.)

“we loved for so long that we had to tiptoe out of the evening so as not to wake morning ”

March 10th took LSD with Barbara, Bridget, Brinks – bought pot

March 11th Barbara, Bridget, Brinks  

March 16th stayed home – took two tabs of acid, smoked hash – to Tipererth

 
“watch not for the clouds but for the rainbow
that hides behind
waiting for the moment we need her
most” 3/18

March 25th Tam... to park – home with her

CLICK ON IMAGE BELOW FOR MORE INFORMATION

March 26th overnight with a Terry (I actually wrote that – ‘with a Terry’ – another name who at the moment may have been a significant person but we did not merge for a long enough time to even create a memory that would last to my writing of this)

March 27th

“love blowing down the street in the wind with the leaves
to one day be swept together
and burned with the season” March 1973
“no one came out today
because they thought it would rain
and the rain felt alone so she left
to go to the country
to laugh with the trees
and play with the farmer’s children”
March 30 1973

“if we can’t give
what we’ve been given
we haven’t yet learned how to receive”
4/07/73

April 8th with Tam... – took mushrooms watched Wizard of OZ

June – with Robyn H

August 27th gave up Tiphareth and moved out

Oct 6 “living alone again. Life seems quitefrightening – wonder if anything will ever come together – no hopes – feel like I’ll be here for another 10 years – tired of everything”

You came so  fast that I
   could not see  that you
   were just a  dream that
   I never had.
   © Terrell Neuage 1973 New Orleans

An article appeared about the Holy Order of Mans in Newsweek on October 1, 1973

“The bands of roving Jesus freaks have largely disappeared from the streets of San Francisco, but in their place these days are patrols of young men and women dressed in black suits and dresses with white clerical collars. They never preach, but if a street fracas breaks out or if someone appears in need of help, the clerical crews seem to spring out of the shadows to offer aid. Then, just as
mysteriously, they disappear into their "monastery" to resume the life of the Holy Orders of MANS. “
“…Blighton claims that his idea for a co-ed religious order was given him by divine revelation. Whatever its origin, his formula has proved remarkably successful. From a single chapel in San Francisco, MANS has blossomed into a network of three seminaries and 71 missionary centers across the
U.S. The membership includes 107 male and female priests, 473 "vowed" brothers and sisters and some 500 novices.”

November 2nd Chialeah arrived at 1 PM from Hawaii – Robyn living with me for all past week for rest of week took turns between Robyn and Chialeah then Robyn left and was with Chialeah

Mid-November feeling totally in love with Chialeah cannot imagine every being with anyone else. (Chialeah would follow me around dressed in white – and at the park tell people they should buy my pp’s because they were divine and written by a saint)

December 7th Chialeah left for the Midwest to visit her family

December 17th letter from Esoteric council in SF OK Chialeah and me to get married
All year going through a very Christian time
– lots of praying to Jesus for help and talking with others about Jesus (though with taking a lot of drugs and having lots of female interaction I am not sure how I merged Christianity with all that at the time.)
My best-selling picture-poems were simple in their wording but I am sure they had different meanings to people. From my records for 1973 of sales my best-selling poems were:

CLICK ON THE IMGHES BELOW TO GO TO THEIR WEBPAGES

#1
“I had a dream
that we were not a dream”.

#2
“Pick a dream and stay awake
in it”.

#3
“Children never grow old they just sprout wings
and fly away”.

#4 “Blue isn’t a color but the distance through the sky to you”.

#5 My hunger for you grew
so great that
I had to eat the castle
that I was building
for you" ' 72 New Orleans

#6 We made reservations on forever
never knowing that forever
is only
a moment long.

#7 You are the predicted high I heard about https://neuage.org/LeavingAustraliaBeforeTheAfter/images/Image_081.jpg
on the weather report this morning

#8 Your love
makes me feel like a two-gun bandit in paradise

#9 Snowmen dance
only
for those who
believe.

#10 Saw an angel a moment ago
who spoke of peace and I spoke of
being alone
and the angel showed me the peace
of being alone.

I had a few hundred short pithy things that I would use in my picture-poems. During my first years, selling in New Orleans, I used watercolours on art board. These pictures were 8 x 10 inches and most had a matt board frame selling for five dollars each. Most of my matt board I got either for free or very cheap from frame shops. Of everything I have done in life, doing picture-poems has been my favourite. Doing them during 1973 was one of my favourite picture-poem years. Since the year 1973, I have changed the format slightly. I have had three main cycles of making and selling picture-poems and each time the pictures and presentations changed some but the writing of short poems remained. My two other cycles were 1977-79 in Baltimore, Maryland and 1988 – 1996 in Adelaide, South Australia. I put them on the Internet at the end of the twentieth century as an art forum with a short passing thrust into society that few knew about. My domain name was restlessdancer.com for reasons later explained (no longer as I deleted it). I am sure I will have another picture-poem dash before I leave the planet. When business was slow, both at the park and at the shop I worked extra shifts at the restaurant to pay bills.

I have been scanning about a thousand picture poems that sit in boxes in my shed in Adelaide and just finished today: 23/07/2015. Now I am re-working some in Photoshop and on it goes.
Perhaps someday I will sell it on Amazon or I-tunes for ten cents each in hopes that I can sell 15 before 2020. That could be an overly ego-inflated goal.
Someone will pay their ten cents and say ‘what is this shit?’ It does represent more than 45 years of effort tossed together for a dime. Damn!

I have ten books on Amazon with past and current shit….look me up.

I do not recall too many people from the start of 1973. I had met Dell the year before as well as Shane and a few others. A series of girl friends came and went. Left over meals, so to speak, from the year before but I do not recall any of their names. I almost remember someone, and then I try to place her somewhere in my life. I was with a schoolteacher or three, though I am not sure whether that was at the beginning, the middle, or the end of 1973. I know Maggie and I made love forever for a month or so at the beginning but she melted away, another surfaced then melted then there were increasingly more and more, probably at some mathematical increment; however, having failed algebra 1, three years in a row, I would never be able to figure this out. It was not that I was a great lover, handsome, magical or much of anything. I look at my students I teach at the State University at Albany who are approximately the age I was in New Orleans, perhaps a couple of years younger, but not much, and I am sure they exchange partners as much
as I did thirty years earlier. They all look so young, and I have not seen anyone that reminds me of someone I would have been decades ago. I have not come across one girl that if I were me, when I was me in New Orleans, I would want to be with.
Whether the females were different then or due to my aging process I have so lost interest in this age group I do not know. They are different now, the thinking has changed, the fads and what people want have changed. I am teaching oral speech this semester and several girls have given speeches on the legalization of marijuana so that is cool but they do not seem like the totally stoned people we were in the 1960s and the 1970s. The generation gap is a real thing and even though we may have the same interests as three decades ago there is no other commonality and they just see me as an old person.

On rate my professor over at http://www.ratemyprofessors.com I have some awful reviews as a professor. OK I was better at being a hippie.

• He's the kind of man where you look at him and know he's scatter-brained, then you get to know him and you know he's a burnt out hippie... Literally! But he's a great guy, and he loves what he does. I find it ironic that he teaches public speaking and is so crappy at it... But he means well and has good tricks :-D
• He is quite a character. That can be construed as either good or bad. But who said education is always about what’s in those stuffy ol' books anyways. Sometimes the people you meet during college--the quirky eccentrics--are just as important as Goffman's theory of face. Hey, I remember something!
• Amazing teacher. Funny and makes class interesting. Easy grader and very understanding. Def take a class with him you’ll love it. Best class in my college career.
• The worst ever. Sucked beyond human comprehension. Get his ass fired!
• All around good guy. class is crazy easy and you get some good practice at public speaking. if

you are going to take acom203 make sure you take it with him!

• This professor is the BEST!!! soo funny and makes the class fun! really really easy and is a good teacher, if you have to take this class DEFINATELY take him he is a riot, and very easy!!!!
• Australia bent him over and sent him back to the states. He's a human wasteland. He DEFINITELY can't read or write. He's never prepared and is a SLOPPY mess. If you like hearing about his old job in a Tofu factory, this class is for you.
• interesting - from Australia - his site tells it all neuage.org I have taken three courses from him and he is the best professor at SUNY

Damn! I should have failed most of these fuckers…what were they thinking?
I got the same mixture of reviews for when I taught in middle and high schools. Just goes to show how we all have such different experiences of one another. I didn’t like people in their 50s and 60s when I was in my twenties either and now I don’t like people in their 20s.
To reminisce about the girls of the past is close to impossible. Yesterday was not yesterday, it was so long ago, and with so many experiences in between that I barely recognize the me of then.

There were several who I would love forever, maybe even many, others, but they are faces and bodies that are blurry and distant. It is quite remarkable to be so intimate with someone, maybe even for a few months, then years later whilst trying to remember something about that person all there is, is a shadow. If I stood in an elevator with someone from the past I would not know it. Memories do not age, I mean the people in the memories do not age. Well, some people. I have seen four people from my New Orleans days of the early 1970s in the past twelve months, thirty years later. Two I visited with at Chicago airport last June on my way to Ireland, then Germany, China, Singapore, and Australia. My how my life has changed. One of them had gotten in touch with me via the Internet. I did not recognize either person, but they seemed to have thought I was whom they remembered. The other two, Randy, I saw two months ago (September 2004) and Dell I saw in June 2004 and again September 2005 and again in 2010. Those two always look the same and I would recognize them if I saw them on a city street anywhere in the world. However, I would not know any female I had been with before a couple of decades ago if I saw her in front of me. I remember some women I had been with from three decades ago and I have photographs of them, but I remember them as they looked when I was with them. They would look different now. They would be in their fifties and sixties. When last, we would have had sex the girl in my mind now would have been in her twenties. The only female I have seen that I met in the 1970s was Tam I saw her in 1992,

She looked quite old to me. I could not remember why I was so in love with her for the few months I was so in love with her. I think I was in love with her body because if I was attracted to her mind, I would have still been attracted to her, I think, but I was not. I am writing this in part to learn about myself. For example, I was wondering whether I was a sexist male, controlled by my dick and nothing else. From an experimental point, and nothing else, I would have to discover the way I am in this sense by seeing someone who I thought I was in love with or at least who I was attracted to decades ago. The only woman I have been with since 2001 was 47 when I met her so I do not know her as a younger person so I cannot use her for my equational sex-attractional-at- a-young-age reference data. The person I was with before her was 45 when I met her. The ones before her were one-night stands so I cannot use them for my data. My first wife was 33 when I met her and 56 the last time I saw her and I surely was not attracted to her. I am not sure any longer whether I was ever attracted to her; we just ended up in some horrible karmic cycle together. More at the end of this book.

Dell was always a bit of a scary person. He was a bit gothic, a bit strange at a time when everyone was a bit strange. Dell was several years older than the rest of us and better off materialistically than the rest of us. He was the only one I knew who had a car. He dressed better than
the rest of us. He had better drugs. I think he worked on oilrigs for a few months at a time, making large amounts of money. Dell had a spider web on his hand and I had never seen such a tattoo. In the 1970s, it was not so common to have tattoos as it is now. Dell would go to pubs with us and I remember the first time he asked me to go to a bar with him.

After a few minutes, I said to him that I thought it was a gay bar. It was then I learnt Dell was gay. I learnt a new way to pick up girls too so what started as an uncomfortable situation turned out to be quite good after all. There were many straight girls who went to gay bars to pick up guys. They were called ‘faghags’. There was ego thing about getting a gay guy to have heterosexual sex with a heterosexual girl. I did not have any problems with whatever one’s sexuality was if I could be with the gender I wanted to be with, and that has always been a woman. Many women. If a woman thought I was gay because I was at a gay bar and took me home or I took her home that was fine. Heterosexual sex with a heterosexual woman who thinks she is with a homosexual person is quite interesting. Several times a female I was with thought I was a virgin when it came to heterosexual sex with a heterosexual woman and that is very sexy. Why let someone think something different than what they are thinking if what they are thinking is such a sensual and exciting activity. America was just opening to the gay issues in the early years of the 1970s. In three decades, the issue has gone as far as gay marriages and a president gathering votes from the moral majority because he is proclaiming that marriage is only between a man and a woman. In the 1970s, people were just beginning to open the closet door; some had only begun to look through the keyhole or slip a note under the closet door. In New Orleans there were the Grey Line Bus Tours, as there are in most cities and they had tours titled, ‘gay night tours’. However, it was not the same as gay is gay. They meant it as happy and fun and they had used that title for a long time. Eventually they dropped the title and called them something else. I personally do not like hijacked words and gay seems like one of them. Gay means happy and fun, and it should be able to mean that without it having another connotation. I do understand that the word was used in that way in the 1920s too so I am just really talking out of my ass.

Dell has been a friend for the rest of my life and I saw him several months ago before he went to South America. He believes that America is becoming a police state and that it is safer living in one of the small scary countries below Mexico. Dell defies logic when it comes to living. He just keeps on living no matter what. He has been knifed in foreign cities, he has taken more drugs than I, even did crack for a while but he did not like it.

Even though it was frightening at the time, there were many other times when Dell freaked me out. To give an example. One afternoon I went to Dell’s apartment and he invited me to some friends who lived on the other side of Lake Pontchartrain. Before leaving the city, we ate many magic mushrooms, dropped LSD and smoked hash. We drove across Lake Pontchatrain Bridge, which at the time was the longest bridge in the world, 24-miles, in a dense fog. I will always remember that drive as being the most frightening of my life. I was hallucinating heavily and I am sure Dell was too but we got to where we were going and I spent hours throwing up from the fright of the ride and the effects of the magic mushrooms. I stayed overnight wherever it was we went to party and got a ride during the day the next day with someone else.

During the summer of 1973, Dell was driving to his parents in New Lenox, Illinois. I wanted to see Carol Ann and Desiree. Carol Ann was living with her parents in Mokena, a few miles east of New Lenox so I went with Dell. I stayed with Carol Ann, Desiree, and Carol Ann’s parents for a few days. Desiree was seven years old and she only knew me through the stories Carol Ann told her.

Carol Ann was depressed and heavily medicated. I took a bus back to New Orleans and continued selling picture-poems and running my art shop/store which was running at a loss.

Toward the end of the summer, my relationships started to get complicated. I was in love, and I know I say that a lot, so much in fact that even I question what does it mean to be in love with a woman. However, if I am in love, then that is that. Whether it lasts for an hour, weeks, or months or as it has twice, years. If I am in love then that is what it is. There are different levels of love and the one that I happened upon most frequently was emotional, lustful love.

I like that type of love the least, it cannot be sustained for long and it makes me weary then finally bored, quite rapidly. My favourite love is a nurturing caring long lasting love of more than a day’s duration. Those loves are not so frequent for the obvious reason that they take a lot of time to cultivate and a horny human has just so many sexually active years to deal with. I was in love with Tam..., a beautiful red haired Gemini nurse that, like most of my women, I had met whilst selling picture- poems along Jackson Square. I was just out of my mind over her. I think for the first time I had met someone who, if she had asked me to get involved in a serious long-term relationship with her I would have. However, not long after we met she decided she wanted to join the Holy Order of Mans and she went off to San Francisco. I was having a problem with this Order. I could not get myself untangled from it and it was the focus of my conversation with most people who I met. I had already had several girlfriends join the Order after I had told them about it. Rita, one of my first girlfriends, from 1966, when I first went to New Orleans, joined in 1973.

The Order had a centre in New Orleans, and I did my best to avoid it but three or four girl friends in a row joined after we had embarked on a relationship.
I was a slut for God.

It was as if the Order was pimping me for God. I used to like the idea that I was a slut for Jesus.

My mission, or at least I thought it was, was to fuck oodles of women and get them to join the Order. Granted it was a tough assignment but someone had to do it. I do not recall what my actual success rate was but I know some very attractive women either joined the Order because of me or they seemed interested enough to sleep with me more than once, if I was interested enough in them or perhaps thought that Jesus/God/the Order, thought I should pursue them for this reason. Now, in hindsight, more than forty years later, I would not believe that someone would think like that, let alone believe that person was me, but it was. I wonder whether I was more deranged and delusional whilst taking drugs or when I was not doing drugs but I was under the ‘mantle’ of the Holy Order of Mans. In New Orleans, I combined drugs with believing I was ‘chosen’ and a new age being that was working for the White Brotherhood to assist in the bringing of people into enlightenment. Of course, people throughout history have used their delusional belief systems and especially religion to get laid. I once had a girlfriend for a weekend who would only have sex with a Born-Again Christian. She was so sexy and beautiful and such a ‘giving’ lover that I was a devout born again Christian that weekend. I was a Catholic once, because of the same mindset, she would only have sex with a Catholic. In New York City I was Jewish for a week. I wanted to sleep with a girl from Brooklyn I had met at a disco and she had whispered in my ear that she would only fuck a Jew and of course, I told her my name was Terry Goldberg and that I too, only had sex with Jews.

Women are so strange with what they base their sexual interactions on. I have had sex with women who are concerned about astrological signs. For example, they will only have sex with another fire sign or a water sign. I think that is why there are so many affairs at conferences because people think they are with the same as them, type of person.
Someone told me that the most affairs occur at conferences for librarians. That surprised me until I thought more about it. Librarians have a certain preconception of what they believe other’s preconceived perceptions of what they should be like are. They do the academic quiet passive thing whilst in their protocol enticed workplace but when they are at a conference with other librarians, they just lose all their inhibitions and run amuck in wild orgies of lust, probably having orgasms as they cite Greek poetry or whatever librarians are into.

When it comes to an evening of lust or romance most males will be whatever the female is
looking for. At the end of which is the actual act so whether the person wants me to be: a water sign, a Jew, Methodist, Jungian, New Yorker, or an academic hippy poet can do that. Blimey, if the woman is exceptional, and of course, every woman is exceptional, I will be a Pisces, for Bush, from Iowa, Baptist, forty-five-year-old, with a degree from Harvard. But not a trumper -anyone for trump is an idiot and diseased.

People will say and do anything just to be laid, it is a genetic cellular thingy residing in the reptilian part of the brain that has been there since we crawled out of the caves and wanted to climb on top of that lovely thing in the neighbouring cave. It is not just males who do it; I have come across many female sexual predators with very schematic and creative methodological performances that become individualized in the moment for the inevitable end- result, conquest, of the first degree. Females though have an incredible ability to outperform the male so that the male believes they are the ones that corralled the female when in fact, through quiet and determined manipulation, they are the ones who have conquered and won. When it comes to sexual pursuits, women hold eighty-six percent of the power. They have what the male wants and the male will run in circles chasing his tale/tail in order to, at the end of the dance, be able to stick his chick-dick into the female for a few moments of his pleasure, whilst the female, knowing all along that there will be more than just this silly act, lets the male have his momentarily masculine monopolization of his pleasure in exchange for whatever the price the female has decided, pre ‘the act’, to inflict, and on and on…

Well, that is what I think now, in hindsight, anyway. I am only speaking of human heterosexual male/female relationships, as I do not have a clue how non-human heterosexual different species relationships are acted out. Though once I saw my dog, Puppy, with another male dog and they did not leave anything to the imagination.

Several people who had left the Order had returned. Randy was back in, living in the centre in San Francisco but he had written that he was leaving
again to be with a woman. A few priests that had strayed from ‘The Light’ were back in. The worst that could happen would be for a Master Teacher to leave the Order followed by a priest then a life vowed brother or sister. If a Master Teacher left they would be damned for eternity for turning their back on the White Brotherhood. A few teachers had left and we really believed that these were condemned and lost souls. There were wild stories. My favourite story being about the master teacher who had turned his back on the White Brotherhood and was currently trapped in the body of a gorilla at the San Francisco Zoo. This terrifying story was told to us by the founder/head of the Order, Father Paul. He told us a lot of ‘secret’ and ‘well-kept stories’. For example, he told us there was an entrance to Middle Earth in Golden Gate Park and certain very highly evolved individuals, of whom he was one of course, would enter this kingdom that was very much more evolved than our civilization on the earth’s surface. Apparently, the folks were hanging out in their Middle Earth Kingdom until the new age, in which the Holy Order of Mans had been set up and ordained to bring into being. I could not find anything in regard to this on the Internet so obviously the White Brotherhood has kept this as esoteric information. Will they silence me because I have told the masses that there is an entrance to Middle Earth in Golden Gate Park? This morning, Saturday, February 18, 2006, I looked on the Internet at a Holy Order of Mans group I had set up ten
years ago, in Yahoo Groups and there are still ex- Order people writing in. The topics are the same. Several of the ‘elect’ are telling one another how they are bringing the light into the earth. How they are healing and bringing various misfits into ‘The Light’, Priesthood, Mastery… gosh things just do not change.

I would tell the women who came upon my path about the Order that I had been in. Actually, I was still under life vows so maybe I thought I was
fulfilling my duty to the Order by getting people to join. New Orleans in the early 1970s seemed to be going through a spiritual revival. Of course, we always believe that what we are going through at any particular time is special, cosmic even. Maybe it was just me and I assumed everyone around me was going through the same thing. On the other hand, it could have been the people I befriended at the time who were into spirituality.
Everyone I met seemed to be into astrology or tarot cards or magic, healing herbs, crystals, or some cult of one kind or another. I believed things were changing rapidly, that the earth was going to go through a transitional point and we were the vanguards or the leaders of it all. It was all quite exciting. There was no thought about the future. I did not think that I should do something about my lot in life. My lot in life was quite basic. I lived from week to week and moved several times based on my earnings from selling picture-poems combined with a regular job, which was usually as a cook at a restaurant. I always went for the cooking type of jobs because not only would I be paid an hourly salary but also I did not need to worry about feeding myself. At the end of my shift, I would take enough food with me to last until I was back at work leaving only a place to sleep to be concerned about. Most of the time I had an apartment or a house and several times I had a large enough house for others to live with me.

26 - HOOM - Again
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Terrell Neuage, (dual citizen USA/Australia) is a South Australian/New York poet, writer, and digital artist known for his evocative poetry and extensive research on conversational analysis in on-line communciations (including communication in the AI era; from sharing information to making sense of it). His best-selling autobiographies;Leaving America (Before the After) & Leaving Australia (after) – exploring life as a hippie, brother in a California Cult (Holy Order of MANS) as Brother Terrell Adsit, Astrolger (40-years) to non-believer, and adventures in Australia, single parent, tofu manufacturer/street artist, China, the USA & fifty+ other ountries. From high school drop out, Shenendehowa Central School, Clifton Park, New York at age 16, back to school at age 44 (BA & Masters from Deakin University, Melbourne, Australia) to PhD from the University of South Australia at age 58 to knocking on your door at age 78.