The Cosmic Frequency Outlaws

Not that very long ago a movement got under way 
to change everything that had gone so very wrong 
with the human species project.
Music was the first building block laid to 
gather like-minded, free-spirit nuts.

They became the backbone of the cosmic program.
Initially baited with the promise of unregulated, 
into the night dance parties, they were easily taught the 
real and true spiritual mission they had been called to.
The live music broadcast, beamed out codes of sound
from an old, miserable and abandoned warehouse.
Internally, it was dubbed, ‘The House of Cosmic Frequencies Family’.

Earth was sick, unable to speak. Here were the voices,
sending distress signals out beyond the ionosphere. 
Humans had gone mad, unbearably stupid by degrees.
Everywhere was irrational driveling.

Blake, the technological, half-alien, half-man, semi-god,
taught the humans how to dance and pool their energy.
He instructed on super-consciousness meditation most 
of the day.

Telepathically, Ian the DJ absorbed the lessons, 
translating it with fiddling fingers onto the dials. 
It got to be 100 degrees in there with all the many writhing extremities. 
Dancers faded off into the sitting room,
where Blake kept his back to the crowd. 
His face, too perfect to bear. 

Waves of thought and spirit energy beamed up to any galaxy 
that might give a shit about the poor predicament on the rock.
Cosmic entities above, relative to planet 311B-Z,
desire for salvation and peace for this bottom-feeder experiment. 
Much promise had been made along evolutionary lines.
A few bad actors threatened to upend the whole venture.
Blake’s mother was abducted from earth and later volunteered 
to birth a hybrid son to save humanity. 
Deity hope, his duty is one day completed. 

Blake’s used his human side to better understand the wild yearnings
that bounced off his disciples all hours of the day.
A growing crowd swarmed the address of 876 Backwoods.
Drawn in by hypnotic notes that the young seem to hear.
An invisibility sphere cloaked the whole building
against emanate threats from lurking men dressed in black.
Head of Homeland Security, Jenna Bush Hager had eyes everywhere.
Blake’s brainwave communications were translated by Alyson Musk.
She’s an empath. The newcomers wanted to please her most of all.
Blake hardly had the time to confer with each one. 
His energy largely occupied trying to save them, after all.
To help the process along, iron rods were driven deep into 
the old, crusty earth below. 

Chuck Taylor, a futurist, helped with that part of the project.
Conductivity experiments. 
All for the purpose of heightening frequencies.
He could be a temperamental sort when lags of energy occurred. 
His mind looked ahead to a spot on the extra-terrestrial 
parapsychology team, when this is all behind him. 
A group of psionic cases grouped together to see what
sorts of objects they could materialize, just using their minds.
This lead to a minor influx of N,N-Dimethyltryptamine. 
Occasionally, a newbie burned out on too much psychic-juice. 
A recoup room was full of cots, offering electromagnetic regeneration.
Before “the siege”, there were no cases of loss of lifeforce. 
Many were willing. They had to be tempered, mainly by Alyson. 
When one member was overzealous, it agitated the whole commune. 
Blake just plowed forward like he was guided to do.
A deserter from the Afghanistan part III war, 
named Chet, was made house chef. 

With the right supplies, he claimed to be the best cook 
in the lower-Midwest. He often complained of being creatively stifled.
His frustrations were as typically follows - 
“Get me a few herbs and spices to work with in here and I’ll show 
yous all what my dish is meant to be! Then you’ll know what real 
cookin’ is! You got me running a cracker-jack operation in here! 
Mother of Mary!” 

The welcoming committee was made up of the long-timers. 
A handful of starters, early initiates. 
They were the only members that left in the day, to hand out fliers.
Kids coming in had a real zeal for the project. Parents worried sick.
The secret endeavor to change the course of the human project
attracted attention from the wrong sort of agents who scanned
the atmosphere for hi-frequency waves. Earthlings have a number of 
curious admirers in various galaxies – their competing hypothesis’ all being tested there.
That partially explains the schizoid nature of human disharmony.
A spherical antenna on the warehouse roof, acted as a transmitter. 

Blake sent messages up all the time. 
Initially, he just wanted to meet his father when his mission was over.
Messages came back down. An alien craft was on the way, he said.
DARPA had to be stopped from developing the
next evolution of robotic soldiers that would then out number humans. 
Hence, the time-sensitive pressure of meditating more and more wave signals 
out to sympathetic types, resistant to the complete loss of humanity.

Alyson often talked about the coming “white light”, from the sky gods.
That calmed nerves and provided hope. Most of the group had 
been in detention centers and resigned life to be an exercise in Hell. 
The squiggly galaxy folks were meant to put a stop that business.
Sometimes a long-timer received a remote viewing of the world,
free from the brigadiers then on the loose. A viewing like that
became a disturbance to the rest of the group, off in a deep concentrated 
state of energy flowing, etc. 

During revelation, remote viewers started
hollering and speaking in a tongue (possibly alien) and running about 
in circles. They needed to be restrained from going out the window, 
not realizing the vision of liberation was a mere glimpse and not
yet fully realized. There was a lot of mutual aid and such among the group, 
as they seemed to think like real humans should, anyway. 

The project grew to encompasses four floors of inhabitants, which 
drove Chuck a little nuts since he had to organize operations. 
Sometimes groups got so far gone he had a hard time recruiting 
worker bees to get their hands dirty for Christ’s sake. He talked about
Christ because of his upbringing. Members made reference to all sorts
of human and non-human idols at various times. Usually, in a trance.
One woman, Rita, blurted out about Vishnu to a man, 
Henry, sitting 50 yards away, with 20 or so bodies between them. 
This was because he was having a mental picture
of Siddhartha at the time. 

Alyson said that all these idols were stories from the galaxy people 
that were on their way over to fix their mess.
Over the centuries, many opportunities were blown to get things in order. 
The idol tales only confused things as time went on. 
So there was lot of embarrassment, mostly. 
Alyson is a long-time Yogi with her own school in Sarasota. 
Which is still probably closed, with a sign on the door saying, 
“Classes resume after the cosmic ray halts this god-forsaken madness.”
Alyson was deeply involved with a young man named Wyatt Wilson, 
who came to see all the fuss around June.
Communication between them went on for hours, telepathically.
They shared the same metaphysical journeys while mediating, 
traveling vast distances in the time-space continuum. 
Wyatt clung to her motherly love. She trained his latent abilities, of course. 
Back in May, when he had a nervous episode, he decided a change was needed.
His work, being meaningless to all besides the State and it’s war making proprieties. 
Files he discovered of overseas laser targets, fractured his education 
in national-type pride and duties. 
What really angered him was how clumsily things could be strewn about. 
“In such a casual way,” he said.
Joining up with the Cosmic Frequency Outlaws provided the 
life-saving cover he desperately needed. 
Life-saving from the State, after he fried many data drives 
in his spiritual clarity moment. Alyson called it, his SCM.
Going down the escape latter after the sirens went off was 
an intuition he got right then. Now he has them all the time. 
He was visited once by a spacecraft in a dream. 
That was in a Jr. high school, when his parents divorced.
Alyson helped him understand all that. 
Chuck was annoyed by Wyatt and Alyson being together so much.
Mainly because Chuck has a fiery temper. Strangers especially wind 
him up.

Alyson loves everyone she meets and Chuck understood that. 
But with Wyatt, it was of a different color. Observing this, he then 
realized how damn busy he was, so he said, “hell with it!”, 
and went back to monitoring the radar.
Alyson treated Wyatt special, due to the manner in which Blake 
vibrated in his presence. Alyson knew for certain that meant 
she was meant to develop all his latent PK/TK.
Alyson had the strongest ‘para’ magic besides Blake. 
She was the first to join Blake back when Blake was making his 
renunciations with the known-world. She wished to marry him 
but would never come between him and the mission. 
By August, Blake had his head shaved and his beard had
grown to his chest. 
He would gather the whole “cosmic family” together, 
in the evening before suppers.

Chef Chet, using a megaphone, announced something to the effect of,
“Alright you hippie-dippie hungry fucks, gather round the feast of Chet.” 
Blake made statements that ran around in circles and 
no one but Alyson understood them, but had to pretend to.
It did make everyone feel better though, knowing that
someone knew something.
Chuck just wanted to get back to his work, 
so he drank and cursed under his breath. 
During the talks, Ian would play a soft droning music that lay
right underneath Blake’s gentle voice.

This was Ian’s time to rest after hours long sessions of
frantic music performance. Blake may have permitted 
his use of stimulants for the sake of the mission.
Ian liked to be the only one who touched the musical equipment.
“It’s a magical technology beyond your comprehension,” he would say.
At the end of his speeches, Blake would drop down to his knees, 
as if struck and bow his head down. 
That was generally the signal he’d finished. 
“Thank Deity!” Alyson would say. 

Agents of the State were seen regularly prowling 
about the streets surrounding the warehouse. 
Wyatt knew this to be on direct orders from President (Chelsea) Clinton. 
Sammy, who was 17, acted as the company lookout.
Having a low frequency of energy, he could be spared to tend to
practical tasks like that.
He giddily announced – “we have a bogey at four o’clock,”
thinking that was the way a professional would say it.
An increased number of these snooping stooges, wearing X-ray glasses, 
rouse the distress of everyone inside.
Alyson told anyone who might be listening that this, 
“simply means that what we are doing is working. 
Help is on the way, children.”
She was certain the arrival of the galaxy folks was imminent
and all would be set right across the lands. 
The State agents carried devices around that looked like 
metal detectors and seemed to be taking readings. 
Once they were spotted pulling a young girl off her bicycle 
and used the device against her head. 
The men in black may have behaved that way because they were 
cyborgs. 

Chuck wished he were armed so he could, “blast the sons of bitches.”
Always an idealist, Blake promised all who committed to the cause 
that the aliens would arrive before any attack occurred.
Wyatt saw himself as a growing presence in the family structure. 
Perhaps a key figure, due to his position with Alyson. 
He was sure they were sexually connected and 
had a future breeding mission. 
His psychic powers became quite strong and he frequently 
demonstrated them by floating people upside down, telekinetically.
This had the added comical effect of emptying the contents of
pockets onto the floor. Usually silver and cooper coins.

Other times he moved people’s plates around when they
were trying to eat. That became tiring for some.
Wyatt peaked in on Blake levitating while transmitting.
This he attempted but lost control and crashed into a batch of begonias.
Still, he envisioned a family commune headed by himself and Alyson. 
“After we put this episode behind us,” he told a sleeping Sammy.
On the 122nd day of the resistance, Chuck’s free 
energy and Internet connection project was achieved.
This was done in defiance of the State’s 
‘Stars & Stripes, Freedom from Information Threats, Domestic and Foreign Act’. 
An honorary celebration of that bill was held on the White House lawn
with the Clinton and Bush bloodlines holding hands around a bonfire. 
John Ashcroft’s two sons were in attendance to perform his 
20th Century patriotic hit, ‘Let the Eagle Soar’. 
Reagan’s cryonically restored brain received the roll-out,
on request of the Sons and Daughters of the Cold War League.
His projection mapped image loomed large that night, although
some technical kinks were still being worked on.
For instance, he was unable to regain his composure after 
Barbra Bush’s hologram commented, “sure is fine weather tonight.” 
Around 9:06 PM, a tired and wheelchair bound Oli North 
had enough of the hysterics and poured his scotch 
onto the Reagan command board.
His comment was, “good night, you good old bastard.”

Chuck’s stealth blow against the old guard cronies was a 
high point within the Cosmic movement. 
He even shed a tear for the success of what he called his “life’s work.”
Rarely one to display emotion, his weeping
was joined in on by all in attendance. 
A group of volunteer coders immediately 
took up the task of communicating preparations
to a rising enclave of tabletop RPG Dadaists, on the outside.
The approximate message at the time was, 
“our friends from the sky are entering the 
solar system… standby for further instructions.” 
The music beaming from the warehouse took
on mystical proportions from that day forward.
Ian’s physical appearance would have had him institutionalized
but he unarguably was producing his magnum opus.
Because these new ballads were hardly danceable, the crowd took
to stagger-stepping with faces and arms turned upward. 
Half of the group refused to leave Blake’s presence 
for fear of a breach in energy.

This group now included Alyson and Wyatt along the front row. 
Someone made the observation, that in reality, all
those dedicating their powers to the cause, acted
as spiritual batteries, keeping Blake’s psi motor charged.
This instigated an escalating wave of chants to the effect of,
“we are batteries! We are the charge! We are the power!”
Blake could not provide conformation of this assertion as he
had entered a trance so deep, he had dislodged 
from his physical body entirely.
As a prank, a sombrero could have been placed on
his head and he would have had absolutely no idea. 
Alyson was then speaking only in foreign galaxy tongues,
assumed to be projected down from the approaching mother ship. 
Wyatt next to her, patted her knee, and interjected “yes, quite literally.”
The climax was at hand.

Outside, the compound was being surrounded
by tanks and swat teams of every alphabet.
This included a re-animated squadron of the 
Ferguson National Guard. 
This was to be the ‘Final Solution Standoff’. 
It was thought that a double agent had infiltrated
family ranks, getting as far as Wyatt. 
This would devastate Wyatt’s later hopes of forming
a splinter-group called the ‘Advanced Cosmic Family by Divine Right’.
In the end, perhaps a quarter of the total family, were secret narcs.
This was all addressed in Alyson’s intergalactic autobiography publication, 
‘Cosmic Mother on a Mission’. 
Wanting to play no games, the military commander on site
issued a scorched earth policy.
The flame-throwing brigade was brought to the front-line.
It was around this time that the extraordinary thing happened.

The moment Blake, in his thumbnail sized journals, had prophesied.
His physical body completely atomized into the ether. 
The meaning of this event is the source of all
current Family sect and denomination squabbles.
Many complicated theories exist and are still be formulated
to this day.
“They are here! Salvation has come to us!” or some such thing was
exalted by Alyson, probably.
Wyatt assumed Blake’s vacated seat at the front and began to say,
“Brothers and sisters, the time has arr-” 
when a voice shouted, 
“Fire! The reptilian bastards are burning our god-damned home!”
A general mêlée broke out just then.
Alyson got into the crowd to try to re-center everyone’s Chakras.
Reaching a never before reached crescendo of sound,
Ian died right there on his rig.
That was never properly understood at the time,
according to Chuck.

The surrounding inhabitants near Backwoods street had all
gathered around with signs to greet the arriving ET rescue team.
One such sign stated, OCCUPY EARTH in big letters and 
WHILE IT LASTS in small letters underneath. 
They were rewarded for their efforts with tear gas and several
whacks on the head with wooden sticks.
An invisible warehouse engulfed in flames is a strange sight indeed.
Details are very fuzzy from that point on.
Some of the crowd outside the building swear to having seen
a disc-like craft appear in the sky.
Other reports claim it to have been a boomerang shape. 
At least one said it was of the triangular shaped variety.
Others saw no craft, only the burst of clear white light, like the sun
blotting out all sight for a period of two minutes and 36 seconds.
All seem to agree about the light.
Bodies began materializing out of thin air, as they ran out of the 
burning building. 
It was erroneously estimated by the Families nuclear physicist 
that their cloak of invisibility would cover them
outside of the building.
No one holds the mistake against him, as he was forced to 
think too quickly under the circumstances.
He however, will never forgive himself.
Most were mowed down by intense, triangularly directed laser fire. 
Leaked photos taken on the day expose the awful 
tragedy of “the jumpers”, who had believed a cosmic safety-net 
would protect their fall. 

‘Operation: Fiery Escape’, which saved at least 13, is entirely 
credited to Chuck. 
This last ditch plan involved the use a think metal sheet 
to act as a shield/battering ram to exit
the quickly crumbling structure. 
This heroic action made all the more memorable by Chuck’s 
spontaneously screamed cry of “May the filthy whore armies 
of Hitler never prevail!” 

Because of the subsequent napalm strike on the warehouse, 
a true total of those unaccounted for can not be calculated.
It’s thought that at least 50 made it on-board the ship of the saviors.
Wyatt’s disappearance and later claimed reappearance in a cave 
at Golgotha has never been fully explained. 
The combined psi abilities of roughly 80 Family survivors 
was enough to render all the police and soldiers useless.
Chuck commanded the brain scrambling of captured enemy combatants.
No one liked having to do it but it was defended as a matter of 
self-defense.
Then freed, the once lethal force drifted around in separate directions,
drooling and harmless. 
This provides the basis of the legend known as the ‘Battle at Backwoods’.
Chuck at once, led a powerful squad of psychic masters straight 
to the White House, to offer a peace truce. 
The State representatives without use of standing armies made 
embarrassing and grovelingly incoherent statements. 

A lot of sobbing and hiding underneath cherry laminate desks 
from the Heritage Hill Collection, mostly. 
Spirits were finally raised when many officials were offered positions 
in the newly formed White House vegan kitchen. 
The new kitchen, stocked to Chef Chet’s precise specifications.
The White House was quickly converted into the 2nd House of the Cosmic Family.
The cosmic takeover was well underway.
Today, Alyson is making preparations for Blake’s return from the 
Oval Office.

The presence of alien life working along with her is suspected 
but not fully confirmed. 
Wyatt has amassed large numbers of followers in the Middle East
and regularly issues projection videos filmed from a remote cavernous 
type location. He holds out hope of Alyson joining him as his wife
to reunite the two main splinters of the Cosmic Family.

Panic and violence has been prevented by large scale money 
drops from helicopters flying all around the world.
Chuck’s latest scientific scheme constitutes teleporting world bank 
reserves to his barracks at Mount Rushmore. 
This is done to push the filthy bankers out of work.
Whatever the aliens have in mind for the reconstituting of society,
no one questions an improvement over what the previous pigs
had developed. 

When all the final preparations have been made Alyson will 
make a grand-style announcement.

Until that day, she assures humanity, that help is on the way.

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