Madmaster Calling from Amsterdam, february 24, 2007

Those of you who have found their way to this moment in time and space , pse look at my dutch KERSVERS-page which today brings the reader (in English) close to the source of Sufi-thought in the Western world, dating back to the first years, prior to and within the folds of the First World War, of the twentieth century.
Having opened my files abt. Mrs Raden Ayu Jodjana, I fell upon an early issue of one of its earliest manifestations (april 1916) of Sufi, A Quarterly Sufi Message, issued in London
In its 28 pages first of all The Sufi Order, its origins, The Sufi Teachings & The Aims of the Sufi Movement in the West.
Within these pages are also mentioned the Servants of the Sufi Movement, among whom for Holland Madame Khourshed de Ravalieu, known to me, much later in 1950 until her death in 1981, as Madame Raden Ayou Jodjana, spouse of the Javanese dancer and prince Raden Mas Jodjana.
In the same issue, about the Eastern Musicales, held monthly: "Madame Khourshed sang most wonderfully. She has a beautifully developed voice, and is also a very clever teacher of voice production."
She was for me a wise spiritual Mother, at a moment in time when lecturing and reading poetry became more and more interesting as energy-transferences, as described in Ed Sanders'poetics, and I visited her weekly to take dictations and transcribe texts, for a book which might still be in the making. Long Live Life Eternal, in the Here & Now. Your whistle-blower Simon Vinkenoog.

February 5th, 2007

From the City of Amsterdam, (Mad Master), Mokum Aleph, third best place in the world for expats, Australia and France being best and second best.
Calling your attention to the distinguished political author William Blum, who offers free subscriptions to his monthly Anti-Empire Report, "some thing you need to know before the world ends." Full Spectrum Dominance is the main feature of this month's newsletter, issued yesterday. On you'll also find a list of Blum's forthcoming speaking arrangements in the USA, Land of the Free.

In the Dutch-section of this website, the daily Kersvers (Cherry Fresh) notations, I have this last week been mentioning a book I finished reading today: Barry Miles' William Burroughs El hombre invisible, published in 1992, seven years before the old Man on the Mountain took off for whatever destination stuck in his mind. The story is, as far as I know the best introduction to the life and works of William Burroughs, seen by many as one of the most important authors of the twentieth century, a cult-figure indeed, misbehavin' and misunderstood.
With a stockpile of information at his disposal, Miles describes vividly Burroughs' encounters with some of the best minds of his generation, his drug-experiences, his Algebra of Addiction, his masterly characters in books with titles that exploded into popsongs, the sado-masochistic routines he played with friends, his obsession with Scientology (where he became a 'clear' and was later expelled for 'betrayal'), Wilhelm Reich's Orgone boxes, the cut-up and the dreammachine, the Tanger-Paris-London-New York-Mexico-Kansas connections of globally translated expat-authors, all his alien-conspiracy-paranoias,-it all comes into consideration, and falls into place in the 238 pages of this book. It ends with the description of a shamanistic sweatlodge-healing ceremony in 1992, during which Burroughs, then 78 years, 7 years before his death, got rid of his own lifelong Ugly Spirit.
With a magic eye for cut-ups you'll be able to read the Miles-Burroughs -quotations in original throughout the Dutch language - it's an undeniable fact that English (or Anglo-American-basic) usually comes easy to dutch audiences. My own knowledge dates from the years 1948-1956 during which I worked for Paris-based UNESCO, where English and French were working languages. Also, 4 years MULO-schoolyears provided me with four years of English and German, and 3 years of French language learning, plus my Mothertongue. No more so, nowadays, alas.
If you want to see me read a little poem and do a little dance, and listento eight minutes of excellent live jazz check the link Sea me! Hear me!, which connects you with a concert end december 2006 with Bo's Art Trio in the Mahogany Jazzclub in Edam, Holland, on YouTube, a film of Micheal Holla, shown 634 times. Be the 635th!
Etc.Jazz & Poetry! Jazz is my Religion. Love Sex Death, Love Special Delivery.Life is a Carnival! Count Your Blessings - your Amsterdam friend Simon Vinkenoog.

P.S.:I owe some of the best books I've read lately to my friend Renee Franken of the Antwerp Bookshop Demian, in the Wolstraat 2, the historical center. If you happen to be in that beautiful Flemish city go see for yourself. A very interesting collection of beat & parallel literature, cinema, photogtraphs; the best I've I've seen in the Lowlands! SV

January 27th, 2007

Here I am again, Simon Vinkenoog, active at the age of 78, my first contribution this year to these pages in English, though - as any really interested and insatiable researcher wd have noticed - I spread a lot of English quotations through my Dutch texts, supposing - and sometimes knowing the reader to understand what I'm talking about.
What am I talking about? As an old-time tripper, who 'savoured' his first LSD-trip in february 1959 as a guinea pig in a medical experiment at the City of Amsterdam's Wilhelminagasthuis, in Paviljoen 3 - locally known to be the lunatic ward - and who's been reflecting about the idea of 'consciousness' ever since, and as a poet, I could gather a multitude of words (in essence: Thou Art All That & Love It or Leave It). And so I've been doing, in living and writing, translating, anthologizing, editing & performing.
And I am on line since june 2004 - the worldwide web deepened old friendships and brought me new friends. To me life itself is an art; one shd strive for the perfection of humankind as a masterpiece, and part of Nature.

At the age of 30, when I was asked if I was interested to taste the medicine, I 'd recently come back to my native city after eight years in Paris (France), where I enjoyed both a job as Special Requests Documents Officer at UNESCO Headquarters (then Hotel Majestic, 19 Avenue Kléber), pursued my literary 'career' in the Dutch Republic of Letters, and made the since then life-long acquaintance with Mama Mia Sativa Indica.

The Indian Hemp-Goddess introduced me to the first dérèglement raisonné de tous les sens, as foreseen by the visionary poet Arthur Rimbaud, she brought me a deeper understanding of the surrealists (my admiration went to Antonin Artaud and Henri Michaux), and had me form friendship with (jazz) musicians, painters and artists. I started out in Paris by posing in the nude for sculptor Ossip Zadkine's Masterclasses , where I met and befriended Shinkichi Tajiri who settled in the Netherlands - like so many expats still do: at this moment Amsterdam is as enjoyable a city as Paris used to be in the fifties: Ville Lumière.
Between the academic palefaces and the rapacious rednecks of more than half a century I found my own way - busying myself by marrying six times and become a father to 4 children. I fell in Love with Edith Ringnalda twenty years ago and we know our partnership will last a lifetime, God willing, Blessed Be!
At the same time I'm stilll who I was then, at the outset of my coming out of nowhere into the here & Now: curious to the most extreme, having been locked up as it were during the nazi-occupation of the Netherlands, during World War Two, between my 11th and 16th year.
Every year I've lived through until now belongs to the formative years, and who is to tell me when the lessons are over? No-one! The joy of teaching is the joy of learning. Who said that? Doesn'tmatter. Every good teacher shd experience that.
Though, my friends - I've also often hummed to myself: All my words come back to me / in shadess of mediocracy...
If you know what I mean. And you do, otherwise you wouldn't be here, at this particular moment in whatever space one believes to be living in.
Living Theater. Constant Orgasm. I think I'll keep this communication on a regular base; I have the feeling I disappointed some friends who I showed this way. Better learn Dutch, then. But also: don't forget to look around, once you're here on this website: Simon Surft - psychedelic favorites.
I just want everybody to be as happy as I am. Happiness (Don't worry, be happy!) is an experience to be shared. During a short visit to Paris last week to see the Antonin Artaud-exhibition at the new Bibliothèque Nationale de France, my biographer Derrick Bergman shot a picture of me with the 93-years old George Whitman, owner of the English Shakespeare & Co Bookshop across the Notre Dame - who's been offering a crashpad for more than a fifty years, as I gather from Gregory Corso's published Letters.

I'll be back here then, on a more or less regular base, this shd be an understanding within myself, let's say a week then, Simon? Let's make it once a week, and please pronounce my name the Europeaen way: Seemon. Thank you. Simon. Mastery in Servitude (Meher Baba).
This week I introduced my Dutch-language readers to where a Meme-orial Celebration in Santa Cruz is announced at the ending of Robert Anton Wilson's life on Earth. I loved the humor in his Illuminatus! trilogy and his well-equipped brain/mind/soul.
And now I do take leave, I tend to be garrulous, and have to know when to say stop. Stop. Bye bye now. Love Still Discovers. "Trust your inherent machinery". Simon Vinkenoog.

Amsterdam, october 10th, 2006

Yes indeed: not a word in this virtual neverendingstory called Simon Vinkenoog (born july 18, 1928) since half a year. What a season it has been! For five months we lived in our 400 square meters garden in the gardenpark Buitenzorg (Sans Souci!) in the Northern part of Amsterdam, closer to nature than ever.
Media fasting; no t.v. or radio, just yesterday's papers. It's a beautiful world we live in, I started out feeling alienated, then I grew back into the original Adam, living each breath according to its direction: I go with the flow, wherever the wind blows.
I publish poems in the dutch language sinds 1949; in 1950 my first book of poems Wondkoorts (Traumatic Fever; Gangrene) appeared in 1950. My latest collection called Zonneklaar (As clear as the sun) including translations from Gregory Corso, Ira Cohen, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Milarepa (according to Theodore Rothenberg's Technicians of the sdacred, appeared six weeks ago).
My first prose-book, the autobiographical 'alibi' Zolang te water in 1954 had a motto by the 19th century English poet Gerald Manley Hopkins. I stick to it since, as well as I got rewards from the thought of William Faulkner, whose motto entered my Eerste Gedichten 1949-1963. I copy these words here. Words contain depth and meaning, making connections, spoken, written, read or heard, among those of us who are One.
Gerald Manley Hopkins wrote:

Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwist - slack they may be - the last strands of man
In me or, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.

William Faulkner made it known:

Loving all of it even while he had to hate some of it
because he knows now that you don't love because:
you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults.

And, dear Reader, let not the Dutch language hinder you, surfing through the entrees of my Kersvers-notes and other links ; often enough I quote from English-language texts that don't have to be translated into Dutch to be understood by any and all who found their way here: Notes from Paradise. Yours high happy and never in a hurry, Simon Vinkenoog

PS The link Hear me see me! provides you with information about my recent goings and comings. Jajajajajajajajajajajajajajajaja!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Amsterdam, Thursday March 16th, 2006

Hello there! For the first time in weeks, Edith and I found time to visit one of the 9 Straatjes in the center of the city, where I enjoyed a look-about in a woman-friendly lingery shop, to divert the readers of the La Vie en Rose Magazine (Stout, Berenstraat 9) and get entertained by two lovely ladies who start conversing with Edith about things I prefer to be unaware of.
Then we headed towards the Spui-square, where the little statuette in bronze of het Amsterdamse Lieverdje reminds one of the days in 1964 and 1965, when Robert Jasper Grootveld started his cough-cough-cough-uche-uche-anti-tobacco rituals each saturday midnight, doing his perambulations around it, freakily attired, which drew so many (mostly young) people that PROVO here found its first outlets for their ideas, broadsheets and pamphlets.
The rest is part of western world history and brings us back to the Here & Now with a visit to the Atheneaum Bookshop & News-stand with its inexhaustible and continuous supply of books, magazines, newsprint on all possible subjects, in many languages. Peter, recognizing an old customer, offers me a look at a monthly magazine, called The Believer, published in San Francisco (, ISSN 15433333-6101)and I buy, ever so curious, the 22nd issue, march 05 (Teethsome) and the 31st issue, february 06 (Couchfire!)
Close by are Waterstone and the American Book Center (Kalverstraat); as a matter of fact there are also more than 200 secondhand bookshops in Amsterdam. Every Friday, the year through, a number of open air book-stands are gathered here on the Spui, near the entrance of the Begijnhof, one of the quietest and loveliest 17th-century hofjes, hidden sanctuaries of silence - like the courtyards of the Historical Museum nearby.
Walk. walk. walk. walk. Look around you. People show. People come. People go. Names. Faces. Names; faces. Our steps lead us to the Tweede Kamer in the Heisteeg 6 - the real parliamentary Second Chamber is in the government-town The Hague; we're just (rightly) the country's Capital City Magic City Publi City - for a cup of coffee and to enjoy one of their pre-rolled joints.
We sit down and a young American (from Washington, D.C., I hear) looks at me and says: "I've seen you before!" and then remembers (having shot a lot of film footage for a DVD he is preparing): "You were one of the speakers at the Basel LSD-Symposium!
"That's right, and, as one realizes, an immediate friendship. See you next time, Dean W.!
Out in the Heisteeg, next to Cornercafé Hoppe where we walk towards the back entrance, our old friend Michel Stoopman greets us heartily - we haven't been in the neigbourhood for quite some time. He tells us that he has seen my picture on the cover and read the story in the Amsterdam Weekly, just out. That's right, I remember - a number of interviews these days, because of the appearance of a CD, with poems read by me, embellished and enhanced by the spacious compositions of Erik de Jong, played by the live crew of his Spinvis-combo, and attuned to his special treatment of sound-and wordscapes.
We had a press-conference, t.v. and radio-appearances, rehearsals and to-morrow a first 'official' concert in Rotterdam's Nighttown, after 'mystery guest' appearances in Amsterdam's Paradiso and Carré, and then coming up are Antwerp (Belgium), Groningen, Drachten and furthur.
In the meantime, and how far away it already seems, and I'll keep it short, enough said to-day, 27 february gave me a special role to play at the gathering of 25 Dutch-Flemish poets reading Poëzie in Carré 2006, which commemorated the fact that I co-organized a similar meeting, exactly 40 years ago in this former circus-theater along the Amstel River.
My last lines then, a diatribe against the government, were my first lines now (taken from film in 1966, on stage in 2006) and my last lines, a manifold JA JA JA (yes, yes, yes)now were musically accompanied. Thank you Spinvis: Erik, Arjan, Hans, Saartje, Jan, Cor, Lucas & Jeroen.
Music, until the end. The creator of Charlie Brown, the cartoonist Charles Schultz, reminds us: "Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia."
As for now: the story goes - life and life only! Simon Vinkenoog.

Amsterdam, Wednesday February 22nd , 2006

Hello! Welcome to the micro-macrocosmos of Amsterdam Magic City. Open up and inhale the coffeeshop-fumes! And read the warning at each entrance!

Mentioning Thomas Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions and the new paradigmata awaiting mankind to my Dutch readers, today I offered them two insights into Oliver Reiser's high thinking, as expressed in his 1966 book:Cosmic Humanism, subtitled: A Theory of the Eight-Dimensional Cosmos Based on Integrative Principles From Science, Religion, and Art, one of the most surprizing REAL books I ever wandered into. The diagrams LIII and LIV on the Kersvers-homepage today appear in the book in Chapter XII: The Radiation Belts of Thought; diagram LXII below forms part of Chapter XIII: The Cosmos Has a Plan and So Has Man.
The description reads as follows:
"THE CYCLIC-CREATIVE UNIVERSE. It requires eight dimensions to make the Cosmos: (a) four in the Unmanifest Universe which provides the invisible guiding fields (archetypes) for emergence. There is a symmetry between the two universes, i.e. they interpenetrate and each has its complementary or folded-over image in the other universe. This provides the basis for what Jung terms synchronicity."

The author being, at the time of his death in June 1974, Professor Emeritus at the University of Pittsburgh, who published numerous books on his 'philosophical journey.' Albert Einstein, referring to an earlier book World Philosophy: A Search for Synthesis, commented that Oliver Reiser 'has overcome, without sacrificing his intellectual integrity, the paralyzing relativism that so many clear thinkers of our times feel themselves forced to accept.'
Chapter IX in Cosmic Humanism, entitled Astrobiology, Cybernetics, Divine Knowledge ends with a supreme statement concerning la condition humaine:
"Coerced by inner necessity, man is relentlessly driven onward in his quest. Explanatory groping into the as-yet-unknown is man's inescapable fate. His salvation lies in relentlessly probing the mystery of this cosmic drama, perhaps even helping to fulfill its meaning by his tireless pursuit of the archetypal order that haunts his memories and colors his anticipation.
Man's highest mission is increasingly to comprehend and enjoy the products of the Supreme Imagination, as these are revealed in nature and in human nature. Such is the ecstasy, the mystery, and the agony of man's awesome journey through the vastness and the majesty of our everlasting universe."

Hic et nunc, in the Center of the Cyclone, Amsterdam. Your scribe Simon Vinkenoog.

Monday, February 13, 2006 A.D. 6 p.m.- 11 p.m. Amsterdam Time.

Rummaging through notebooks of the last years, pocketsize scribblings, filled from beginning to the end in a few months and never looked at again, except when one is looking for one thing and finding another.
As happened to-day, the day I wanted to update this irreguarly written notebook, and wondered who they are, the people passing by to have a look at this site, and then - unevitably - turn away from it, looking for another, yes what? SOURCE OF INFORMATION?
Anyway, once here, you can leave a sign of life in theGuesthouse; I appreciate your comments or possible contributions, when you feel like doing so, to be used or not: please not just compliments, and No Harm Intended!
In fact; that's what I'm doing, sharing information, spreading knowledge, gnosis.
My Dutch-language audience knows me as a writer from the early Fifties; in 1950 my first book of poems was published, called Wondkoorts (= Traumatic Fever), and the poetry-anthology ATONAAL I edited and was published in 1951, is now being part and parcel of Dutch literary history, as she is told and sold in the Republic of Letters in the Netherlands.
Since then I have written, published and read a number of books in my lifetime (1928-20DV) - being entertained by the social games I play as a poet, performer, anthologizer, chronicler, marihuana-user (since 1952) and researcher of LSD, since 1959). Qualified investigator, indeed!
As the occasion to go on-line on the WorldWideWeb was offered to me early 2004, I grabbed at it, and here and now I'm chatting away on a website all my own, totally independent, totally interdependent, addressing myself (Advertisements for Myself, by Norman Mailer - part of my curriculum!) to a community of a happy few hundreds - around the same amount I reached by publishing a roneotyped eight-page little magazine, called blurb, eight issues between may 1950 and 1951, from Paris, (where I held a simple job at UNESCO Headquarters with the impressive title of Special Requests Documents Officer) addressed to the contemporaries with whom I wanted, then as now, to share my discoveries, and many they would be...
There is an infinitely complex, beautiful and joyful system in this Divine Madness; it comprises in its situationist context a healthy brew of serendipity, 'pataphysics, and what my old friend George Andrews called in a poem Annihilating Illumination, (The Psychedelic Review, N# 1, 1963).
Being aware of the fact that I would meet many non-Dutch contemporaries, sharing my interests at the Spirit of Basel Symposium Problem Child & Wonder Drug at the occasion of Albert Hofmann's 100th birthday january 13-15th, just a month ago, I started to set up this collage of words - and a few pictures, showing we're allright, in my mid-Atlantic hodgepodge of events, personae and reminiscences, as an extended visiting card in the name of the Society for the Protection of Truth (Welcome!)
Unscroll; unscroll - if you wish - back to the source: three guidelines dated november 28, 2005.
In The Gutenberg Galaxy this text could be the beginning of an Endless Story: hanging out in Cyberspace, it's doing now, for momentary conclusion of today's story, to be continued, DV, what I wanted to do all the time here (with breaks: my wife, my son, the chicken-dinner, the reminding you of what I read in a notebook of 12 years ago, a noteworthy reminder. Simon Vinkenoog.

The major advances in civilization are processes
that all but wreck the societies in which they occur.
Alfred North Whitehead.

Amsterdam, the Netherlands.
Friday, February 3, 2006.
Private investigations going on; the constant answer to the question Who Am I  can be expressed in so many untranslatable and different ways, that I realize it's the same for every eye above this text, who has found this out for HimHer self.
How deep is the ocean, deeper, go deeper and that stillness - it might be a moment long lost gone - it's the new beginning, the crack in the cosmic Egg, the long long way to the dawn in Kali Yuga-times. And let's be certain we have as yet no idea of any future - an utopic vision by itself, as psychologist Norman A. Brown declared.
Or, as Linus Pauling stated: "I know discoveries will be made that my imagination is incapable of conceiving. I await them with curiosity and enthusiasm.".
"A non-psychedelic can not enlighten a psychedelic!', used to be a familiair Ranting of Ganesh Baba, as written down by Ira Cohen. See elsewehere in this labyrinth I'm creating with you at the end of it, Tat Tvam Asi. You and All That.
I sent an adhesion today to William Blum,; the researcher whose Rogue State-book was lobbied into bestseller-status in such an unexpected way. I showed the page of contents of the dutch translation for 'the blissfully ignorant foreign groupies of America.'
Look around you, people show! See them come, see them go, all around you peple show! You are the people! You are this season's people!
And there is a lot more to be said, I'm entertained by the social games I play; living out my children's dreams - as Georges Ohsawa, Dr. Macrobiotics himself realized to be Ultimate Fulfillment. But so did Buckminster Fuller. Etc.
Truthfully yours, Simon ('mellifluous extravagance') Vinkenoog.

Uit: The Sons of Shiva - to be continued

Tuesday, January 31st, 2006


As if a Children's Crusade is starting; the 7 p.m t.v. news-programme 'Twee Vandaag' showed the reactions of young teenagers protesting against the authorities' order that an Afghan family - father, mother and three children, two of them born in Holland - should be extradited back to Afghanistan, at the same moment that the Cabinet and Parlemantarians are fiercely debating, under international pressure, to decide wether to send 1200 dutch soldiers to the same area, or not. Many experts for, many experts against; as usual. Diplomatic Movements..
Unbelievable indeed; how conscious and authentic the children's reactions (in a school in the quiet East of the Netherlands) to the sudden deportation of their Afghan friend Lida, who has no problems 'integrating'. The soulfire burning in the indignations, the flesh-feelings in their righteous words made me jump for joy: Children Crusades a'coming... Brought me tears as well : why do so many innocent people, the very young and the very old, have to fall victim to these 'systems', with terrorists on both sides, Coca Cola against the Poppy Here & Now.
Feeling powerless as well as powerful, yours Simon Vinkenoog, living within the paradox of chaos & dynamic change.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Ever since the Basel-LSD Symposium I've been rearranging my psychedelic library, rereading and discovering texts never read (in books purchased before), and I've been writing about the occasion since, on these Mad Master Calling-pages, and the daily Kersvers-homepage inn the Dutch opriginal. I've also submitted a 2.500 word piece to a monthly; awaiting their verdict/approval.
There has been a trickle of visitors from abroad on this website, and I've had a few hellos from people I met during the Basel-meeting. And, of course, we looked at some of the dvd's of the proceedings.

Martin A. Lee, co-author (with Bruce Shlain) of the book Acid Dreams - the complete social history of LSD: The CIA, the Sixties and Beyond (Grove Press, New York, 1992), who was pleasantly surprised by my words, uttered for the audience: 'Gratitude is a way of life', i.e. Edith's and mine, sent me a poem, written in June 2005:


On this uneven evening
patience flees
the sensible heart
& the timid inherit
nothing but awe

I am so tall & heedless
& alive with weird joy
that I could rip words from the sky
squeeze them until they scream
& crackle like lightning
through my fingers

Monstrous syllables
irredescent & tangible
cleave to fleeting memories
& wither into silence

May fierce blessings
shake you without mercy
from ear to thigh to beating brain
until the world we once knew
sheds its churlish disguise
& specks of gratitude
claim whatever is left of you

This morning Martin A. Lee sent us a quite different urgent e-mail, which I feel it my duty
to reproduce here:

Yes. Whereas Italian druglaws are being made less stringent, and our own Dutch government is becoming less tolerant under U.S. pressure, it is a good thing to remember the message I obtained from a plaque which I bought in a San Francisco headshop in the seventies (see below) and realize that our fight for inner freedom will be a part of our lives, as long as we live.
Let's hope intently, and pray (if we know how to) that Common Sense will come back: so-called 'public opinion' is slowly realizing that the costs of the War on Drugs far exceed the possible profits: the war-machinery itself, fed by fear and paranoia, is a self-sustaining monster of Frankenstein, destined to disintegrate.
What cosmic slight of hand will be on our side in future times is at yet unforeseen. An organization like Amnesty International should make appeals for drug-prisoners as well; all drug-prisoners are political prisoners. Let's keep cool, calm and collected. A Love Supreme. Simon Vinkenoog.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

My Lady of the Lowlands: Edith Annalida Dorothée Ringnalda, my beloved partner since august 1987. We were married by the Burgomaster of Amsterdam Ed van Thijn. September 1st, 1989: he mentioned the fact that Simon Vinkenoog married for the sixth and last time, whereas Edith married for the first and last time.
RIGHT he was! These 18 years are the Best of my Life, all shadows have vanished, all worries blown away. She comes in, we smile.
'Mijn snufkeesje, binkomannetje' she says, nobody understands but Me. See me, hear me, the happiest man in the world, counting his blessings minute by minute, every breath, in and out.. We spend 24 hours a day together, the night in a big doublebed. Kaap Kont. That's what we want, we can be on our selves together, me doing something, reading, rustling papers, always at ease, high, happy & never in a hurry! Our second floor appartment is our Eagle's nest, where we meet family and friends. This is what I'm doing; what I have been doing; my entire writer's life I spent surrounded by family-members, sometimes in a room of my own, and sometimes - as now - sharing the living room.
Beauty all over, in the eye of the beholder. No separation between 'work' and 'pleasure'. When I have outside gatherings, Edith accompanies me always - she is the driver of the green Volvo 460 and shares my enthusiasm to go places, see people, reflect, efficient and quickwitted.
Travelling together to Indonesia, South Africa, Egypt, Morocco and the former USSR - in 1989 when she was manager of the nomadic locationtheatercompany Dogtroep; a good job she gave up when we married: the most precious gift: her Living Presence.
We share zodiac-signs and ascendent: both Cancer, both Virgo. We fit. It fits. We know; we feel. I was born in Amsterdam july 18th, 1928, Edith in the same city july 5th, 1954.
She put me back on my original tracks, when we met. I went through the difficult days of divorce, and separation from my children. All these troubles were cleared away (including the taxman) and we lead an extended family-life, including my former wife Barbara and all my children: Rob (1947), Alex (1961), Anna (1973) and Arthur (1978) - I might have told this before, but then once again. Life and life only. This is part of a universal lovesong, to be shared by all of us. Love and Light on your path. Simon Vinkenoog.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Hemp, hemp, hurray! says the captain in the moonlight.

                                                                     James Joyce, Finnegan's Wake, p.495.

Some dance to remember, some dance to forget.
Here is my dance:
"Smoking grass means pledging your time. You're committed, to All. You're part of a movement on Earth. Consciousness-Expansion. What does it mean? Find out. Truth. Beauty. Not just words, but feelings, emotions, bodies, life in the flesh.
Question: What do you mean by consciousness?
Answer: What do you experience when you use the word?
Catholic: Is it true that Jews always answer questions with another question?
Jew: Is that so?
Hurray, indeed! From the moment you start smoking grass, inhale hashish, or taste majoum, you tune in unto the other tastes of the infinite. You'll shed many tears as well - because, as your perceptions widen, so will the amount of misery aperceived grow in your mind's eye.
The clearer the truth, the more beautiful life, the more distinct and painful the ugliness within some people, victimized lovers, misdirected energies. Squares confronted with their own weaknesses, inabilities, impotence - don't we love them?
Smoking grass in itself does not give you the answers - but if there ever is a key to understanding, why shouldn't it be this innocent holy flower, which cleanses your own mirror of life & death.
In the literature of this movement, in its paintings, films, poems, living theatrical moments, you'll find the endless stream of consciousness, irrupted and uninterrupted, laughter, crying, smiling, freaking, shaking, trembling - the collective outbursts of emotions, superseded senses and senselessnesses.You'll prophesize, prophesize, by looking frankly into your own heart (Allen Ginsberg). We prophesize Love. Miracles. Turn-Ons. On our way!"
From How to enjoy reality by Jean-Paul Vroom (graphics) & Simon Vinkenoog (texts), Thomas Rap, Publishers, Amsterdam 1969.

"Among the drugs that are currently illegal, I have chosen not to use marijuana, as I feel the light-headed intoxication and benign alternation of consciousness does not adequately compensate for an uncomfortable feeling that I am wasting time."
From the Introduction to PIHKAL, A Chemical Love Story, Alexander & Ann Shulgin, Berkeley 1992.

Een tevreden roker is geen onruststoker. And thank you,Spirit of Basel, for having brought all of us together. Bye for today. Remember Friday the 13th, last week, Full Moon! Simon Vinkenoog, Amsterdam.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Alexander Shulgin, as photographed in his lab in the mountains near San Francisco, published in FACTS (Das Schweizer Nachrichtenmagazin, 12.Januar 2006, page 38-4l: 'Doctor Faustus auf Ecstasy'), was one of the main speakers at the Basel Symposium.
Author, with Ann Shulgin, of PIHKAL, A Chemical Love Story, 978 pages, Transform Press, Post Office Box 13675, Berkely, California 94701, ISBN 0-99630096-0-5.
PIHKAL means Phenethylaimines I Have Known And Loved. The successor is called TIHKAL: The Continuation, 804 pages, and concerns Tryptamines.
More about him, his wife and his work in future installments of this Narrative.

Back in Amsterdam.
I'll have my first stage performance since our return from the Alchemical Congress Basel to-night in Haarlem, Holland, 20 kms from here, in Am Star Dam: four performing poets (Jules Deelder, Rick de Leeuw, Sieger Geertsma and I) vs. 4 singerwriters, 'Pop vs.Poetry' - kind of slamming around and do what you please with your BodyMindSpeech.
Lovely poetical license bringing it all back home! That's how I started this website, april 2004.
Why I did is a long story made short. The first official Dichter des Vaderlands (comparable to Poet Laureate, winner of elections, jointly organized by the Poetry International Festival in Rotterdam and the Literary Editors of the influential NRC-Handelsblad Daily), Gerrit Komrij, abdicated a year ahead of his official end of 5 year-term. Bart FM Droog, Editor of the Internet-poetrymagazine Rottend Staal, organized a three week internet by-election, and my name came out first.
Then, of course, I was kindly informed by him that a Dichter des Vaderlands should be on-line, I got turned on to the idea with a little help of my friends and I was thrown into the deep - I like it here. My first words will all be my last. Heavenly idea, just here happy on Earth!
Anyway, as I didn't have any official printed outlets for whatever I was going to write, I published the 'Laureate poems'' here on this website, sometimes reading them on t.v., (during the Portugal-soccermatches, comparing the GOAL-shout with an Orgasm), for radio or during the poetry-readings, forming the main part of my income.
A beautiful poem, if I may say so myself, is the one I wrote at the death of Princess Juliana (once Queen, then Queen-Mother of Beatrix), who - alas - demented, but had shown her bravery by pleading for Peace in the USA Congress, entangled in the Cold War.
War and Peace. It's what it is all about. We have no enemy but Fear. Usually in the West: fear of death. (I just read that 80 % of medical costs in the USA are spent in the last six months of someone's live...).
So: in Dutch I keep a daily page, for whatever is ruminating in my headhart and telling the story of my peregrinations; I feel certain I'll have my english-language friends, known and unknown, enough to tell to keep them entertained and happy. Me, high, happy and never in a hurry.
See what the goddess Abundanzia, she who holds the Horn of Plenty, has to tell you, top right homepage Kersvers. I still feel euphoric. Simon Vinkenoog. And we added last night ten sites to the Simon Surfs-link.

Recordcover Poëzie in Carré 1966 by Marijke Kooger


Wednesday, January 18, 2006

A Sufi saying illuminates a 33 page text, which I downloaded 16-2-2005, 11 months ago, not knowing I'd meet the author again in Basel, to our common delight!
If you want to face the Great One, you have to learn to dance in both directions.
And so we did, and it seems we'll be dancing (Damocles & the Vulcano) to the end/beginning.
Dancing with the Trickster: Notes for a Transpersonal Autobiography
, Stanley Krippner, Saybrook Graduate School and Research Center, San Francisco, California, U.S.A.

Stanley Krippner listening to Albert Hofmann talking to the audience

And I took another step back, and now have in front of me Stanley Krippner's text The Psychedelic State, the Hypnotic Trance, and the Creative Act, in Charles T.Tart's book of readings Altered States of Consciousness, a classic textbook (Anchor Books, Doubleday6, 1972) of 590 pages, 35 chapters within eight sections, each with its own Introduction.
These are An introduction to ASC's (Aldous Huxley under hypnosis!); The hypnagogic state between waking and sleeping; Dream consciousness - Chapter 8: Frederik van Eeden's A Study of Dreams; the dutch psychiatrist-author kept dreamdiaries between 1896 and 1913, in which he described lucid dreams; Meditation; Hypnosis; Minor psychedelic drugs (cannabis, Genista Canariensis and Nitrous Oxide); Major psychedelic drugs - in the expose about a pilot study 'Psychedelic agents in creative problem solving' a table compares Some Reported Characteristics of the Psychedelic Experience, to the one side Those Supporting Creativity and on the other Those Hindering Creativity.
And so, system in the madness, does this bibliomantic trip through the ASC-book end with the Electroencephalographic Studies, the Alpha Rhythm-sequences which we'll have to translate as living conscious beings in the Here & Now: World Wide Wondering.
It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing! And
Too much of a good thing is wonderful!
Mae West.

I call this a day. Look around you: People Show!
Simon Vinkenoog

Tuesday January 17th, 2006

Dreamweaver At Work

Just imagine.

Picture yourself.

Aftermath Notes. Back home in Amsterdam, after a week abroad sharing the Spirit of Basel with twothousand of my fellowmen from all over the world, all gathered in a Joyous Cosmology: the celebration of Albert Hofmanns 100th birthday, January 11.
Our planet would have been a different place without him, who was enabled to rediscover one of Nature's oldest sacred healing methods known to mankind, an absolute antidote against the then reigning spirit of Alamos and Auschwitz, the best minds of our generation destroyed by madness, the madness of a world gone crazy by creating Absolute Death (see Gil Eliot: Twentieth Century Book of the Dead, Allen Lane The Penguin Press, 1972).
It is the genius of the pharmaceutical researcher Albert Hofmann to realize the importance of what happend to him, then in april 1943, and using himself as a guinea-pig. And even more grateful we have to be that he wanted to share the knowledge and experience of this stone of wisdom with others, like his old friend Ernst Jünger, who was going to be 103 years old and participated in a Ceremony, standing on watch before the Eternal Fire above the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier under de Arch of Triumph, Place de l'Etoile in Paris, amidst Presidents Kohl and Mitterrand. We all have our unknown soldiers, hopeless victims to commemorate. We do.
We all have our writers, too, loose-lipped, who can't keep secrets, reveal their visions and want to heal the world, starting by themselves, as writing indeed is a self-analysis of the first order. Quoting Leonardo da Vinci: "I am a discipel of experience."
Rereading chapter LXVII (the one but last) of Desiderius Erasmus' classic treatise In praise of folly I realize again why I had quoted this text (in the then available Dutch translation) before, in july 1968, at the end (the one but last chapter) of my now rare 490 pages book Weergaloos - ontdekkingsreizen naar de waarheid; {Peerless - voyages of discovery towards the truth} and once again and again and again my tears tell me I'm the happiest man in the world.
At this time yesterday we were underway in the train Basel-Amsterdam to arrive there at eleven p.m. and taking to bed at four p.m. Full of memories of the Events we witnessed, this gathering of the tribes, this step on the morgenlandfahrt, this mutating evolution, which shook us all through the boned and brought us back to simple questions of what to do now and next?
Changing the world, changing man - both Rimbaud and Breton realized the need of coming changes; whereas Walt Whitman prophesied: They'll arrive, in the States, the mediums. Beyond new Age. in the post-lunatic, as Ganesh Baba laughed. The gentle art of white magic, holy micro, holy macro. (George - Macrobiotics - Ohsawa: A strong and cruel enemy is specially worthwile; without him one becomes lazy, weak and stupid.' But all of us, I feel, are looking ahead, (en)visioning the future. among others (Teilhard de Chardin and his Noosphere) another researcher Linus Pauling, who stated: I know: discoveries will be made that my imagination is incapable of conceiving. I await them with curiosity and enthusiasm.
I'll be keeping on with this narrative, Godwilling, as I know there is so much more to be told, and retold (Frappez. Frappez toujours!) from my small niche player's private stage in the Magic City of Amsterdam. Quel autre pays où l'on puisse jouir d'une liberté si entière. René Descartes to a friend, gablestone Westermarkt 6, underneath the Westerkerk.
My humble job as an international civil servant at Unesco's Headquarters in Paris (1949-1956) had the official title of 'Special Requests Documents Officer' and it did me a lot of good. Schooldays, oh the Outsider's schooldays.
Ohsawa again: 'In the high school of Bliss and Freedom learning is done through practice. Theory has to be made by the imagination, or improvised by intuition and action.'
To Hell with him then, Marshall McLuhan:'I'm the only one who knows what the hell is going on.'
And didn't I hear Curtis Mayfield singing? If there's hell below, we're all gonne go!
We're all together inhabiting Heaven & Hell, whatever each of us makes out of his/her own Temporal Autonomous Zone.
I love this hungry feeling, gnosis come true. I lovelove these syn-words: synergy, synthesis & their twinsouls Serendipity, with its URLS and neural links. We'll make the word become flesh, and it's a good feeling to be alive. Long live the League of Spiritual Discovery, long live the SPOT: the Society for the Protection of Truth. Long live all of us, all of us stars, each man, woman, child. Growing up, awakening:. These my last words for today.
Later! Simon Vinkenoog, Bishop Universal Life Church.
One last morsel of food for Thought:
"The Mind of this world is not free from its body - and as long as the body is struggling for more life, the mind will go on struggling for more life, more mind. There is no such thing as struggle for death.
There is nothing on this planet but a struggle for Life. Every physical or mental movement, every wave of the sea and every thought or dream is a struggle for more Life.".
Kahlil Gibran. Letter from New York, Oct. 14, 1914 to Mary Haskell; (Beloved Prophet Barrie & Jenkins, London, 1972).(Uncorrected) (YET)

'Remember: Stay Outside!' William Burroughs, closing the door behind him, One World Poetry Festival, Amsterdam, 1980s.

Saturday, january 7, 2006

Hello! This is my second appearance this year - on the Kersvers-homepage in Dutch I have a daily discipline to supply food for heart & thought.
I hope to meet in Basel, Switzerland, next week some of the individuals this virtual peregrination through Me, myself and I is destined for, which is in the first place an enjoyable journey to the magic center of Amsterdam (Am Ster Dam & Mad Master, Makom Aleph), which is my hometown, and the place to be.
Quel autre pays où l'on puisse jouir d'une liberté si entière? is what the exiled René Descartes wrote to a French friend from Westermarkt 6, Amsterdam: way back, centuries ago & the text is legible in stone there: which other country where one can enjoy such an entire freedom?
As anyone realizes, under the Stone Age Laws of the Western World in the 21st Century of our so-called Christian Era, such truths cannot be maintained anymore, as a result of the ill-started (and never ending) War on Drugs, which seems to be History's Greatest Mistake for Centuries.
This author, however, has always been happy with the goodies the good people of the U.S. of A. brought us in Europe (I was seventeen years old at the end of WW 2): jazz, swing, marihuana, The Living Theater, an easy-does-it mentality which broke old conventions, an openness in speech and mind, the psychedelic revolution, the beat generation, the white negro and the black panthers, and a hundred years and more of classic names in music, litterature, the arts - and whatever else modern man has at his disposal. Plus of course, thanks to the anxieties of the Cold War and the complicity of former German scientists the race for space, the technology, which finally opened up to the use of whatever is imbubed as real spirit in this WWW-cybernetic adventure.
Me, for example, as a recent user of the PC (since spring 2004), I am constantly astonished at what knowledge can be got out of it. Thanks to Joost Geerts ( I can now see through (oh, these modern abacadabra's!) in what English-language books I figure, and a beautiful multilateral collection it makes.
Mentioned in a book On Bohemia, in the Paris Beat Hotel, with The Living Theatre, through Constant's New Babylon, Broken Images & Broken Selves (by Stanley Krippner, whom I hope to meet in Basel), on Prayer in All Things, Saint John's Prayer Book, in connection with Nicholas Rescher's System of Pragmatic Idealism (never heard of), in a Search for Philosophical Anthropology, in a book on Museum Director Sandberg, on The Image of Spiritual Liberty in the Sufi Movement, and as I knew already in Acid Dreams, and the Psychedelics Encyclopedia. I could mention a few other titles of which even Google isn't aware of: but this list (I printed it out in paper; 4 amazing pages) really blows my mind, which is good for it.
And I feel fine, coming home from a warm get together at the gardencommmunity where Edith and I spend the summermonths, in the North of Amsterdam which will the new Left Bank in the years to come!
This is the year! You are it. It is Mozart's Year. It is Einstein's Year. It is (at least in Holland) Rembrandt Year. We had a chat with the painter, a few years ago, my wife Edith and I, a picture of the three of us was made (at the entrance of Madame Tussaud) and he agreed with the Beatles then, that things were getting better and better and better all the time - if we had the time to wait for it. So for the moment. Goodbye, and a picture of this memorable meeting. Later. Simon Vinkenoog.


Sunday, January 1, 2006

Welcoming in a new Sunday-child, called 2006 anno Domini. Bring in the Light. Let the Sun shine in! See you later! Just to show that I'm here, heart beating, expectation: Life Starts Every Moment. This is It! Yours Simon Vinkenoog.


Monday, december 19, 2005

My biographer, Derrick Bergman obtained a press accreditation for the Basel Symposium on LSD, The Spirit of Basel 13-15 january next month/year. My wife and I decided to go to Basel earlier, to attend the 100th birthday of Albert Hoffman, "the man who changed my life", the 11th of january 2006.
Derrick asks me for some more information about the speakers; of the 72 persons whose photographs I see in the programme, there is a dozen or so individuals I know more or less, having encountered them and in some cases became friends forever.
Of the four of the 29 Americans I know in person there is one I know by mail only : Rick Doblin, editor of MAPS Bulletin, MAPS being the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies. 'Founded in 1986, MAPS' mission is to develop MDM<A, LSD, other psychedelics and marijuana into FDA-approved medicines.' Further info:
One of the other Atlantic-crossers is Stanley Krippner, with whom I wandered around Amsterdam when he did his research here for a book on Psychedelic Art, which was published later and included one or two paintings by Alex de Bruijn.
That was in the sixties, and in the mean time many a psychedelic Earthling wandered through the streets and along the canals of Mad Master, among whom Timothy Leary himself. More recently, in 1996, a panelmeeting took place in Luc Sala's Mystèr 2000, with Alexander and Ann Shulgin, authors of PIHKAL A Chemical Love Story, and its successor TIHKAL, who're expected in Basel as well. About MDMA, Ecstasy & other inventions.
I open the first (unread) book on page 373 and read the first words of the Eagle's Gift, as explained to Carlos Castaneda by Don Juan: "The power that governs the destiny of all living beings is called the Eagle ... because it appears to the seer as an immeasurable jetblack eagle ... its height reaching to infinity" and Shulgin being 'shaken by a burst of intense anger'. I'd just mentioned to my Dutch Kersvers-readers these days that I wanted to copy for them the the Eagle's Gift, as it appears on the pages 180-185 in my translation of the book, De vlucht van de adelaar (Uitgeverij Hollandia, 1981). Coincidental Aha!
The other handshakes I exchanged in the past with English and German-Swiss-Austrian participants of the coming symposium had to do with my participation in the congress called The Dialects of Liberation and the Wholly Communion Poetry reading at the Royal Abert Hall, june 11, 1965 in London, when the International Times was published and Indica bookshop and gallery flourished.
My german speaking friends from Germany, Austria or Switzerland I met either here in Amsterdam, or during my visit to Timothy Leary there in the winter of 1972, which resulted in a book: Timothy Leary Magiër - het ABZ van de psychedelische avant-garde (Sijthoff, 1972). Among my translations the Alpert-Leary-Metzner version of the Tibetan Book of the Dead, The Psychedelic Experience, Leary's prisonbook Confesions of a Hope Fiend - to throw in Aldous Huxley's Doors of Perception and Heaven & Hell, to bring this sentence to a full stop.
Werner Pieper, Heidelberg-publisher of Die grüne Kraft is especially dear to me, and so is Sergius Golowin, after only a few meetings.We're all so much younger now, seeing the new Renaissance behind all Fear & Loathing.. Hi Michael Horowitz, hi Happy and hi againMiles! Godwilling, see you all soon. Simon Vinkenoog.

The following photographs were taken by Eddy Posthuma de Boer during my second LSD-session in a psychological setting, supervised by Professor Henk Barendregt, febrary 1960


Dinsdag 20 december 2005

Monday, december 12, 2005

Edith went shopping, while I conversed with Arjan Witte, who is producing a cd with my poems and music by Spinvis, new sounds indeed! This is what she bought for me in coffeeshop 't Ooievaartje, next to our wonderful Moroccan butcher Kaddour; this is the way I smoke my dope since the doctor told me to stop smoking more than a package of Gauloises a day - ever since my Paris-years in the early Fifties, this will help me through the day:

And this is the cashier's note of supermarket C 1000 for statistic's sake and the fun of it. This does not include the meat, fish, and bread - for which she has special addresses - our baker, Hartog, has been elected the best baker in the Netherlands. (Ruyschstraat 56, Amsterdam-Oost). His motto printed on the paperbag is:" Wat kan een sterf'lijk mens beter wensen,/ dan koren op 't veld, brood en vrede voor alle mensen!!"
The bill for drinks did not give details and is printed in disappearing thermic fax, unprintable here. It amounted € 62.18 - wine, rhum, whisky, cocacola, fruit- and applejuice, iced tea and Spa-water.

This is a contribution to the Why Not Theater.

Divine Madness
is the theme of the party that will take place, DV, in Paradiso december 28, later this year, organised by The Amsterdam Balloon Company, HQ Ruigoord.
The herring tastes wonderful! And indeed as my baker says:" What better can a man wish for himself/than corn in the fields, peace on earth and bread on the shelf". Your Amsterdam poet Simon Vinkenoog.

Saturday, december 10, 2005

Round about midnight, just back and energized, exhilirated by the grand reunion we just had in Ouderkerk aan de Amstel, one of the southern pastoral suburbs of Amsterdam, one of the first exits on highway A 2 Amsterdam-Utrecht.
Two of my children, Arthur (Nov.18.1978), Anna (Dec.28, 1973) and their halfsister Talitha (1967) celebrated their birthday together; our extended family invited and almost all of them were there, my present wife Edith (since 1987), my ex-wife Barbara, mother of Talitha, Anna, Arthur and Juana, baptized Maria Juana, 1963), Talitha's father Bob Lens and Arthurs Ouderkerk-parents, Kees and Ellis Verheul, who took good care of him when Barbara and I could not make it together anymore. He became the eldest of four more sons (Kees jr, Dirk, Gijs, Bart) and one daughter Anna; all the boys outgrow my 1m84.
Ellis' sisters Astrid and Irene were there, so my son Alex (1961), his wife Dagmar and their two children Marvin and Sammy-Jean, 6 and 2, Talitha's husband Mark with Bodil and Babette-Diesje 4 and 1, so were Stephanie, my son Arthur's beloved with her parents, Diane and Tim, and her twinsister Marloes and younger sister Emma.
Edith reminds me to mention Mark's mother and brother, and there were more come-along-party friends whose names I don't remember, but two of Anna's friends who I know from their kindergarten schooldays were there: Cristel and Susanne, and Talitha's schoolfriend Hester with husband and two small boys.
If that ain't an extended family: I forgot to mention my oldest son Robert (1947) , who downloaded more music and movies than he can see and listen to in ten lifetimes - and it's a good sight to see your four children, two grandchildren and their lovely mothers together.
Pure joy makes me do this enumeration for whoever is interested - said the old patriarch at age of 77! Beautiful people, this season's people: w're all there, ready for things to come, enjoying each other's existence, happy to be alive and participating in it!

Thursday, december 8, 2005

A beautiful performance, indeed, by Steve Ben Israel and Baruch Baba Israel, last evening at Bitterzoet (Bittersweet), a multi-media place we'd never been to; in the past it was the location of the Werktheater, and my old friend Nico/Floris Bunink tried to get a jazz-scene started there, but died unexpectedly... all that years ago.
And now, this old friend from Living Theater-days in the '60's-'70s (they were as a group 14 years on the road through Europe, North Africa and the Middle East) showed up in Amsterdam after 35 years, accompanying his son Baba, 31, who found his way in here in the hiphop-scene and gave an overwhelming rendering of all which is new and exciting within this context: admirable! And the father Steve used to be one of the first stand-up comedians in New York (Jetty told me), picking up the streetwise lessons of Lenny Bruce and Don Buckley. The programm said: 'Come and experience a journey through two directly connected lives- from family to the stage, from Beat poets to Beatboxing, from riffs to rhymes, from hipsters to Hip Hop, from counter to culture to "Continuity: A Father and a son journey from Theater to Hip Hop"'. So much for that.

The Three of Us
... never a dull moment ...

In the meantime the show does go on, and I'd like to draw the attention to and you'll see all the niceties this laid-down little theater in Amsterdam, not far from the Central Station has to offer you. Here I am in my role as travel-guide. Come to the cosmos of Amsterdam Magic City! Enjoy! From Joy! Through Joy to Joy! Makom Aleph: The New Amsterdam, city of 178 nationalities, New Babylon, imbued by winds from All over the Place. Here & Now. Tue das Nächstliegende. Goethe Says. So I'm off into the clear weather winter day of the driest, stormiest and hottest year ever measured! Simon Vinkenoog, Bishop Universal Life Church (1966, Modena, California).


Tuesday , December 6, 2005

Yesterday I received the programme-booklet (42 pages) of the International Symposium on the Occasion of the 100th Birthday of Albert Hofmann, Problem Child and Wonder Drug, in Basel 13 to 15 january 2006, which I hope to attend as one of the 72 (!) speakers, from the USA (29), Switzerland (17), Germany (16) 5 (Great Britain (5), Austria (2), Canada (2) and the Netherlands (1, that's me!).
See Kersvers-dutch homepage today, more info Gaia Media Foundation ,
I'm sure the Spirit of Bassel-meeting will be gathering new energies for the years to come, not only because of the new information being disseminated (Hofmann: Evolution now is the expansion of consciousness), but also through the synergy of so many person-to-person meetings. I'll be glad to meet people I've seen before, but also those I don't know yet.

The New Yorker Steve Ben Israel (68), whom I knew as a member of the Living Theater-community, which made its peregrinations through Europe in the sixties, arrived in Amsterdam, to give a show tomorow with his son Baba (31) at the Bitterzoet Venue in the Spuistraat 2. Full of spirituality and humor, the two of them, we had an inspiring get together.
In the first three installments of this SPOT-story I made my points clear by starting to write about moments in my autobiography. I'm in the middle of Here & Now, as usual, and I'll come back to the past when needed. It's all One, as we are, on this Planet One. Love Special Delivery. That's all for the moment. Sincerely Yours, Simon Vinkenoog.

Thursday, december 1, 2005

The meeting in Amsterdam, anno 1957, with Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso and Peter Orlovsky (I wrote about them in the weekly Haagse Post; maybe the first time the Beat Generation was mentioned in the Dutch press) would be the first of many encounters - see the published Journals Mid-Fifties 1954-1958 et al; I contributed to the Festschrift entitled Best Minds: A Tribute to Allen Ginsberg, celebrating his sixtieth birthday (Lospecchio Press, New York 1986) and also wrote an article after Allen's death (1997) for the daily NRC Handelsblad, Een grandioos adieu, april 11, 1997..
This text is also published in Me and my Peepee, the third book of translations of Ginsberg's poems I published in the Netherlands (Passage, Groningen 2002) being poems translated through the years during Allen's poetry-readings at the Poetry International Festival in Rotterdam, the One World Poetry Festival Amsterdam, Kosmos and Paradiso (where he recorded Jessoree Road with the Mondriaan Sextet) in Amsterdam and Buddhist Centers in Nijmegen and elsewhere.
'Me and my peepee'
is the last line of a poem Allen wrote in Flushings (Vlissingen) with a listing of objects found on the beach. The translations comprise poems from the Collected Poems, King of May, The Fall of America, Mind breaths all opver the place, White shroud, Cosmpolitan greetings, poems 1986-1992.
The first book of translations was called Proef m'n tong in je oor (Taste my tongue in your ear), comprising Howl and other poems, Kaddish and Reality Sandwiches, along with shorter prose-texts (published by De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam 1966, reprinted 1972); the second was a bilingual edition of the Plutonian Ode (Uitgeverij 26l, Heerlen 1980).

"Be kind to yourself, because the bliss of your own kindness will flood the police tomorrow.-
Be kind to this place, which is your present habitation, with derrik and radar tower and flower in the ancient brook.-
Be kind to the Chinese psalm in the red transistor in your breast -
Be kind to the heroes that have lost their names in the newspaper -
Be kind to the universe of self that trembles and shudders and thrills in XX Century."

Let the good times roll, also in XXI Century! Simon Vinkenoog

Third - and last - call - Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Nutshell-optics, bird's eye view.
Simon Vinkenoog, born in Amsterdam, the Netherlands, July 18, 1928, 9.05 a.m., only child of Hendrik Albert Vinkenoog, postman & Anna Katharina van Meel, housewife. With my parents divorced, when I was five years old, I lived with my mother alone in the Pijp-quarter of Amsterdam, close to the famous daily Albert Cuypmarket. Waryears, Nazi-oppression and socalled 'Hungerwinter' when the Allied Forces at the end of 1944 left Western Holland occupied by the Germans in their run to Berlin, to meet the Russians. Hunger is a great Master, not easy to forget.
After first marriage at 18, left Amsterdam for Paris, France, with 2nd wife-to-be at the age of 20, lived there for eight years, since may 1949 special requests documents officer at the HQ of UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, 19 avenue Kléber, then) in which function - distribution of documents to delegates - I spent twice two months abroad for General Conferences, in Montevideo 1954 and in New Delhi 1956.
Admirer - through Paris newspapers headlines - of Gary Davis, who tore up his American passport in the extra-territorial Conference Grounds of the Palais Chaillot during the United Nations General Assembly in december 1948 and declared himself World Citizen # 1.
I enjoyed Paris (love)life to the full: Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Quartier Latin and Montparnasse. Sidney Béchet, Mezz Mezzrow, bebop, Juliette Gréco, Boris Vian, Mouloudji, marihuana, the lettristes and situationists, 'pataphysics and absurdist theater, art gallery vernissages, parties - a number of them at my 7th floor studio on Boulevard Garibaldi, 47, metro Sèvres-Lecourbe. At one of these parties Norman Mailer was my guest; he remembered the occasion, when I asked him in 1969, when we encountered each other at Cape Canaveral (now Kennedy) to witness the Apollo 11-take-off to the Moon.
In the meantime the upstart of my Dutch-language literary activities: a first book of poems Wondkoorts (Traumatic Fever) 1950, a little magazine blurb (8 issues, 1950-1951), the first anthology of young experimental poets Atonaal, 1951, other books of poetry and the first autobiographical novel Zolang te water, 1954. Letters from Paris in the Dutch monthly Litterair Paspoort, 1954-1956. Contributions to Podium, de Gids and other lit/mags and periodicals.
Returning to the mothercountry, to hear my own language, in 1957, I joined the editorial staff of the Haagse Post-weekly (published in Amsterdam), met Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso and Peter Orlovsky that year (we became lifelong friends, and I Allen's translator) and had my first experiment with LSD-25 in a medical-physiological context at the Wilhelmina Hospital under supervision of Messrs. Barendrecht, Thuring en Van Ree, in february 1959 - but that'll be the beginning of the next episode in this continuing story. Yours for today. Simon Vinkenoog.

Second Call - Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Yesterday I, Simon Vinkenoog, introduced myself here by giving three quotes; today I'd like to elaborate on one of these, to wit Norman Mailer's Advertisements for Myself, in the Complete and unexpurgated edition of Panther Books London 1972 (first edition 1961).
Hip, Hell and the Navigator, an interview with Mailer by Richard G. Stern, May 6, 1958.

MAILER: "I think Hip is particularly illuminated by one notion so central and so shattering that its religious resonances and reverberations are going to dominate this coming century. And I think there is one single burning pinpoint of the vision in Hip; it's that God is in danger of dying. In my very limited knowledge of theology, this never really has been expressed before. I believe Hip conceives of Man's fate being tied up with God's fate. God is no longer all-powerful. The moral consequences of this are not only staggering, but they're thrilling, because moral experience is intensified rather than diminished."
STERN: "Now that's fantastic assertion.That really makes me sit up. What is the notion of God behind all this? Do you mean that some kind of personal god is dying with us?"
MAILER: "Now I only talk about my own vision of it, really, because it's not the sort of thing that you normally talk about with most hipsters. I think that the particular God we can conceive of is a god whose relationship to the universe we cannot divine; that is, how enormous. He is in the scheme of the universe we can't begin to say. But almost certainly, He is not all-powerful; He exists as a warring element in a divided universe, and we are a part of - perhaps the most important part of - His great expression. His enormous destiny; perhaps He is trying to impose upon the universe his conception of being against other conceptions of being very much opposed to His. Maybe we are in a sense the seed, the seed-carriers, the voyagers, the explorers, the embodiment of that embattled vision; maybe we are engaged in a heroic activity, and not a mean one."

Not a mean one, indeed! In the midst of it, as absolute beginners. Click on Abundance, the blessing Goddess top right, and you'll see the curtain rising.
Welcome anyway. Do browse around. Suggestions welcome through Guesthouse. This platform being a clearing house of information I collect and disseminate non-academic Consciousness Research: Bewusstsein. Witness the Here & Now as experienced by an Amsterdam-born performing poet, who is happily married - look for the pictures and see we're allright! Still surfing, yours Simon Vinkenoog.
Madmaster = of course, Am Ster dam.
Mokum Aleph. New Jerusalem.

More to come. Shalom, God willing. God-speed.

First Call - Monday, November 28, 2005

Let me please introduce myself, Simon Vinkenoog (Amsterdam 1928 - Amsterdam Here & Now) laterally, through three quotable quotes which will make my english-language appearance on the WWW somewhat clearer.
Thanks to the cursor on SPOT you have now become an invisible member of the Society for the Protection of Truth, with its center everywhere and its circumference nowhere. No-one is in charge. No-one is excluded. We don't have to send certificates to make your membertship official; you'll know for yourself if you participate or not. See also the Optimist's Creed on the CREDO-link on the dutch-language homepage.

1. "For I wish to attempt an entrance into the mysteries of murder, suicide, incest, orgy, orgasm and Time. These themes now fill my head and make me think I have a fair chance to become the first philosopher of Hip."
Norman Mailer, in Advertisements for myself. The White Negro, 1957.

2. "War is always near, has been all through the past years. War is a threat given in the very kind of official formal thinking & acting, while the true, deep issues of human life are kept hidden in the background."
Wilhelm Reich, Lewisburg Penitentiary, last letter to his son Peter, October 22, 1957.

3. "Das' Gesetz des Zufall', welches alle Gesetze in sich begreift und uns unfasslich ist wie der Urgrund, aus dem alles Leben steigt, kann nur unter völliger Hingabe an das Unbewusste erlebt werden.
Ich behaupte, wer dieses Gesetz befolge, erschaffe reines Lebens."

(The law of chance', which comprises all laws within itself, and as incomprehensiblew to us as the original source from which all life arises, can only be experienced by complete surrender to the unconsciousness.
I maintain that thew person following this law will create real life.)
Hans/Jean Arp, Unsern täglichen Traum.

(to be continued, oh yes, DV)