Terra Incognita

To continue the old Enneaforum thread

Dude is a Six. And social first.

Alternate name is Talking John Birch Paranoid Blues




Well, I was feeling sad and feeling blue
I didn’t know what in the world I wus gonna do
Them Communists they was coming around
They was in the air
They was on the ground
They wouldn’t give me no peace

So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the John Birch Society
I got me a secret membership card
And started off a-walking down the road
Yee-hoo, I’m a real John Bircher now!
Look out you Commies!

Now we all agree with Hitler’s views
Although he killed six million Jews
It don’t matter too much that he was a Fascist
At least you can’t say he was a Communist!
That’s to say like if you got a cold you take a shot of malaria

Well, I was looking everywhere for them Reds
I got up in the morning and looked under my bed
Looked in the sink, behind the door
Looked in the glove compartment of my car
Couldn’t find them

I was looking high and low for them Reds everywhere
I was looking in the sink and underneath the chair
I looked way up my chimney hole
I even looked deep down inside my toilet bowl
They got away

Well, I was home alone and started to sweat
Figured they was in my T.V. set
Peeked behind the picture frame
Got a shock from my feet, hitting right up in the brain
Them Reds caused it!
I know they did them hard-core ones

Well, I quit my job so I could work all alone
Then I changed my name to Sherlock Holmes
Followed some clues from my detective bag
And discovered they was red stripes on the American flag!
That old Betsy Ross

Well, I investigated all the books in the library
Ninety percent of them gotta be burned away
I investigated all the people that I know
Ninety-eight percent of them gotta go
The other two percent are fellow Birchers just like me

Now Eisenhower, he’s a Russian spy
Lincoln, Jefferson and that Roosevelt guy
To my knowledge there’s just one man
That’s really a true American: George Lincoln Rockwell
I know for a fact he hates Commies because he picketed the movie Exodus

Well, I finally started thinking straight
When I run out of things to investigate
Couldn’t imagine doing anything else
So now I’m sitting home investigating myself!
Hope I don’t find out anything hmm, great God!

He even writes about Six double vision ffs.

@ 01" to 34"

Perhaps I should spell out this post.

He peers out squintingly and skeptically with Six double vision. The passion is Doubt, the stance is ambivalence, the illness if he falls from Level 6 Authoritarian Rebel to low health will be paranoia. Five, Seven and especially Four don't look like this. Dylan looks like this a lot.

I wrote his typing as so/sx 6w57w6-4w35w4-9w11w2 or something very close to that.

It's probably so/SX. It might be 4w53w4,There might be a different tweak. But [so/sx] 649 seems clear.

I wish we weren't on a desert island.

For those who subscribe to the theory that "Six isn't "creative" enough to be Bob Dylan", behold and ponder:

This short popped up on youtube and I wanted to post it for the pictures but hey, about the song, a possible synopsis could be: Danger, danger! Stay alert, the them's are about to become the us'es. Choose sides.
(When Bob Dylan looks melancholic, he almost always also looks quizzical).




The Times They Are A-Changin'


Come gather 'round people wherever you roam
And admit that the waters around you have grown
And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone
For the times, they are a-changin'
Come writers and critics who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide, the chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who that it's namin'
For the loser now will be later to win
'Cause the times, they are a-changin'
Come senators, congressmen, please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled
'Cause the battle outside ragin'
Will soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times, they are a-changin'
Come mothers and fathers throughout the land
And don't criticize what you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly aging
Please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand
'Cause the times, they are a-changin'
The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast
The slowest now will later be fast
As the present now will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin'
And the first one now will later be last
'Cause the times, they are a-changin'

This song was unknown to me before my forays into Bob's Sixness, and for good reasons. It is in large part a tirade and a gripe against his ex-girlfriend's family and he mostly uses simplistic nursery-like rhymes. All this I think is typical of Six when it has nothing to create but insists on doing it anyway. He's talking about what he thinks about what he feels.



Ballad In Plain D

I once loved a girl, her skin, it was bronze
With the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn
I courted her proudly, but now she is gone
Gone as the season she's taken
In a young summer's youth I stole her away
From her mother and sister, though close did they stay
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day
With strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us
Of the two sisters, I loved the young
With sensitive instincts, she was the creative one
The constant scapegoat, she was easily undone
By the jealousy of others around her
For her parasite sister I had no respect
Bound by her boredom, her pride to protect
Countless visions of the other she'd reflect
As a crutch for her scenes and her society
Myself, for what I did, I cannot be excused
The changes I was going through can't even be used
For the lies that I told her in hope not to lose
The could-be dream-lover of my lifetime
With unseen consciousness, I possessed in my grip
A magnificent mantelpiece, though its heart being chipped
Noticing not that I'd already slipped
To the sin of love's false security
From silhouetted anger to manufactured peace
Answers of emptiness, voice vacancies
Till the tombstones of damage read no questions but
"Please, what's wrong? What's exactly the matter?"
And so it did happen like it could have been foreseen
The timeless explosion of fantasy's dream
At the peak of the night, the king and the queen
Tumbled all down into pieces
"The tragic figure" her sister did shout
"Leave her alone, God damn you, get out"
And I, in my armor, turning about
And nailing her in the ruins of her pettiness
Beneath a bare light bulb, the plaster did pound
Her sister and I in a screaming battleground
And she in between, the victim of sound
Soon shattered as a child to the shadows
All is gone, all is gone, admit it, take flight
I gagged in contradiction, tears blinding my sight
My mind, it was mangled, I ran into the night
Leaving all of love's ashes behind me
The wind knocks my window, the room it is wet
The words to say I'm sorry I haven't found yet
I think of her often and hope whoever she's met
Will be fully aware of how precious she is
Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me
"How good, how good does it feel to be free?"
And I answer them most mysteriously
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"

New post #3

Berate.

Berate is a word that is used for what disintegrating Six does to people.

Dylan is berating his gf's family in abstentia.

Another word that comes to mind is harangue.

No Four, Five or Seven wrote this song.

Let alone recorded it.

Yeesh.

And speaking of berating, you know what? You've got a lotta nerve to say you are my friend.

Your periodic reminder that Robert Allen Zimmerman of Minnesota, aka Bob Dylan, is an Enneagram Type Six.