The Gray Box Anomaly

May 21, 2018

{{ Diaphanous Reader: I just emailed this frivolous post to the Mendocino Coummunity Network discussion and announcement lists, for mischief’s sake. }}

Date: Mon, 21 May 2018 17:01:21
The Gray Box Anomaly (urgent)
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: MCN discuss, MCN announce

Has anyone else noticed a strange message that’s been posted to our list several times in the past two weeks, entitled “Promises Kept” (or maybe “Premises Expected,” “Prozac Effect,” “Prose Intercept,” “Proof Intact,” “Prune Intruder” or something else along those lines)…which vanishes shortly after first viewing, to make us think we either imagined or dreamt it? I just saw the message again this morning, while sipping on my first cup of ganja laced java for the day. I think I’ve viewed it three times so far, maybe four, though didn’t pay it much mind until this most recent arrival. I will now attempt to describe the contents:

Even though it is entirely composed in text, a small, floating gray box appears hovering just inches above my laptop screen. I gaze upon it, stunned into a hypnotic trance while attempting to read the actual post. Which is blurred in parts (including the subject title which seems to shift and wobble as my eyelids flicker), though perhaps that is an aftereffect, like vanishing ink. The words go something like this:

“We are wondering if you’d be interested in trying out our newest discovery [blurry text follows, then:] No obligation on your part, though we do request that [more blurry text]. If for some reason you don’t care to engage further, just [more blurry text], and we will not bother you again. Though we do request that you share this amazing breakthrough of superior promise with at least five other [more blurry text].”

At the very bottom it ends with the word “NAMASTE” in all caps, in a large, bold trebuchet font, followed by one short line of yet more blurred text just underneath. By the time I get to the end, the slowly rotating gray quadrate vanishes, along with the entire message a few seconds later. I can not find it anywhere in any of my gmail folders, including Trash and Spam.

Now I want to make it very clear that what I remember of the contents of this unusual email, may not be the least bit accurate, for they come to mind like a fading dream slipping through my fingers. In fact, the most solid recall I have is that levitating, gray cube hovering before me like a seductive sphinx…and those golden letters that spell “namaste.” For they remain seared onto my retinae like a faerie’s cattle brand.

Of course I still wonder if this /is/ my imagination, or a nocturnal specter; but at this third or fourth occurrence, I have become suspicious of subliminal intrusion of my email service. I checked my Amazon account, to see if I’ve made any purchases I’m not aware of. Likewise my bank account, to spot any possible withdrawals that look suspicious. In addition, I’ve pored over all my social media pages to see if I could identify any strange posts (either on my part or from others). So far, so good, nothing out of the ordinary. IMPORTANT:

My concern goes beyond the threat of subliminal spam that may coerce me to purchase some item or service unbeknownst to me until too late, and my bank account is wiped out (or the NSA knocks down my door). For maybe this is the intrigue of the shadow government, military psi-ops, dark science, religious cult, or some other devious group such as black hat hackers, intergalactic overlords, underworld demons or crazed heterosexuals overexposed to the rising tide of multi-sexual liberation (for examples).

But this is just Day One of my vigilance regarding this “gray box” message that may or may not be a will-o’-the-wisp summoned by my own subconscious. Yet because it does possess an element of subterfuge by the nature of its appearance and context, I am asking anyone else on this list to keep an eye out for a diminutive square box that drifts above a partially incoherent and blurred MCN message…but which you brushed off, thinking it just some brief hallucination conjured up by an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, or a fragment of underdone potato late at night during a restless slumber.

Thank you for your kind attention. I await feedback on any subscriber’s part with bated, purple-hazed breath.


July 29, 2012

Date: Mon, Jul 30, 2012 at 5:09pm
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Thomas Keske
Subject: Thomas, I am immersed!

Derrick, my dreaming stallion.

Only a few moments ago, my darling friend, almost immediately after posting you my latest e-mail (just before this one), I suddenly experienced a tremendous wave of epiphany! And which is still occurring at this very moment, as I compose this missive.

These angelic guardians tell me: “Zeke! You have done /so/ much good for your homeless brothers, especially those who’ve suffered disastrous family violence, and addiction to hard drugs.”

“I am /so/ awesomely honored!” is the only response I can think of; I am /that/ humbled.

“No, Zeke, you don’t understand. Love is yours NOW, and we want you to /feel/ just how sweet is such revery! So go ahead, our most affectionate brother Zeke. Let go of /everything/ and feel our love.”

So, Thomas, I guess I am in a state of “rapture”…perhaps much like St. Francis of Assisi…or St. Teresa, whose encounters with God were absolutely /orgasmic/. For reference, see:

I’ve brought so many of my street brothers into a /much/ better life: dump the speed/crystal/heroin/whatever, and know that God loves you as much as His Own Son.

I can only reach these downtrodden heros, via Christian mythos. Obviously, because we live in a highly Christianized society. And yet, behind the facade, I apply mostly Buddhist and Pagan beliefs, in order to elevate these magnificent souls.

Just last night, J.J. came back to me, and apologised /profusely/ for being so fukked up the last times he dropped over. I am /very/ impressed, to say the least, Thomas! (Note: since my original post about J.J., I’ve learned his real name is “Derrick”, though he prefers to go by “D.J.”.)

It was, shall I say, one of the most /lovely/ nights of my life. We simply lay beside each other, while we stared directly into one another’s eyes.

“Did I already tell you how much I love you, Derrick?”

I ask, with my face’s left side pressed into a hypo-allergenic pillow that D.J. brought over under the premise that he “bought it” for me. I sincerely doubt that this Sweet Man of Physical and Spiritual Perfection actually had the money to buy a pillow. It was, however, in its original cellophane wrapping, and perfectly clean with a fresh scent of grass. IOW: whether actually purchased or found, the gift was most thoughtful, and reflective of brotherly love returned.

The other “gift” he brought me, was a half-gallon of lemon-scented ammonia! For which I thanked him profusely, but the next morning (after he left on wing-ed feet), I deposited the stinky product on the back porch; in case another resident of 2306 might benefit. Aargh! Sometimes my street friends’ gifts leave much to be desired.

“Oh yes, you have, at least a dozen times today alone!”

Derrick responds from the other pillows, which are two in number, of an autumn-leaf motif. He favors those pillows over mine (the one he “bought” me). They are best used together, as these pillows are otherwise rather flat. But he identifies them with the first time he stayed over. (Have I already told you, that D.J. is quite the darling?)

“And I know you also love /me/ very much, Derrick,” I continue with such divine revelation, I can barely contain myself from embracing him from head to foot, from my arms to my legs to my soul.

But Derrick is no longer into hugging or kisses, during his transition from addiction to freedom. Fair enough, I muse.

“Yes, I do, Zeke. Like the Rock of Gibralter,” he sweetly replies.

And then, a dark deep sleep of profound compassion descends upon us both, and we drift off together to Dreamland.

And in the very wee hours of the night, he graces me with his angelic caresses over my resting body twice. I just need not bring this up in the daytime hours. Enjoy the ride Zeke, you deserve it!

Blessings to you and Danny,

– Ezekiel

Date: Mon, Jul 30, 2012 at 5:09pm
From: Thomas Keske
To: Zeke Krahlin
Subject: Re: Thomas, I am immersed!


You are blessed to find such excellent comfort in this troubled world.

I find the most peace in nature, green living things. Green leaves in the sun have a consciousness like
Buddhist monks, emptied of distractions, anxieties, lusts, negative feelings. If I could translate plant-language to human language, the closest equivalent to what they are quietly chanting in unison is “Praise God”.

The sky above is always divine artwork, no matter what warfare madness on the ground.

Nature and music – two of Life’s incorruptibles, no matter how wicked the world.

Regards, Tom

Date: Mon, Jul 30, 2012 at 5:21pm
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Thomas Keske
Subject: Re: Thomas, I am immersed!

On 7/30/12, Tom Keske wrote:
> Ezekiel,
> You are blessed to find such excellent
> comfort in this troubled world.

Yes, indeed Thomas! The epiphany of this most recent breakthrough over my beloved friend “Derrick” is stlll sailing clear! Perhaps this revelation shall ALWAYS keep me steering steady at the helm.

> Nature and music – two of Life’s incorruptibles,
> no matter how wicked the world.

Well, Thomas, as usual, you have expressed a most eloquent thought born of outrage. My breath is taken away, by your brazen benevolence! I am truly HONORED to know your gracious spirit these many years (since 1997!), especially with so much turmoil in my struggles to wake up our community, as to the utterly DIABOLICAL agenda that is “homophobia” or perhaps in another equally-righteous term: “machismo”.

Your good friend,

– Ezekiel

Date: Mon, Jul 30, 2012 at 12:59am
From: Thomas Keske
To: Zeke Krahlin
Subject: Re: Thomas, I am immersed!


Did I ever show you the picture of myself as a toddler, literally hugging a tree? I was too innocent then to know that “tree hugger” was a pejorative.

I was not hugging it like a teddy bear, as a substitute for anything else. I was hugging it because I felt the tree’s life and loved it.

My first encounter with a love that dare not speak its name. It does not take a child long to learn, “You are not supposed to do that. It looks peculiar. It is not ‘normal’. ”

Of course we should encourage that to recapture something so natural and right.

Regards, Tom

Date: Mon, Jul 30, 2012 at 1:40am
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Thomas Keske
Subject: Re: Thomas, I am immersed!

On 7/31/12, Tom Keske wrote:
> Ezekiel,
> Did I ever show you the picture of myself as
> a toddler, literally hugging a tree?

No! Send it to me, please.

So when I woke up this morning, there was Derrick sitting up beside me, ready to place a hunk of hash brownie onto my tongue. He got me /way/ stoned on excellent medicinal bud last night…and now, /this/ sweet surprise!

He said he wants to sleep with me under the stars. Who’s complaining? You’ve /seen/ how gorgeous this man is, Thomas. If he isn’t one of Goddess’s own angels, I’ll eat my hat. With monkey puke all over it.

– Ezekiel, the happy camper

Date: Mon, Jul 30, 2012 at 1:55am
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Thomas Keske
Subject: Re: Thomas, I am immersed!

Thomas, I should add now, that Derrick is on a 3-year probation that is up in less than three months. He is nervous about missing his next appointment, Aug. 2nd, and about missing any more.

So I gave him my humble place to stay, for every night up to his next meeting. I figure this would be a great idea, to ease his anxieties. He’s afraid of being sent back to the clink. I told him: “You are /not/ going back to jail. You have /nothing/ to worry about; you’re doing just fine. God loves you, just keep that in mind. Plus: don’t panic over /anything/. Worry never does any good, no matter how
painful the crisis.”

I took his kind hands into mine, and explained further: “Don’t you ever despair, and think your life has been a waste, or that you should commit suicide. You always have me to lean on. It would crush my soul, should you leave this world. I’d either die of heartbreak, or become so crippled in spirit, I’d be just an empty shell of my old self.”

He is most grateful for my friendship, and shows it constantly. He’s really mellowed out since the first cycle of his visits. This man is incredibly beautiful, and to have him love me so much is beyond my dreams. Yet, this is precisely what is coming down.

Derrick is not the only street denizen who is now a devoted friend (and even lover) to yours truly. Remember my visions of some years back, about my acquiring handsome men as bodyguards and amours? This is prophecy of a most personal nature, bearing fruit!

And this is how I know my destiny is secure, and consequently, that of our LGBT family. Our bedraggled community shall soon release my writings in lovely comic-book-novel format, and send me a chunk of the royalties. They may likely do same for you! Someday soon, the Gideon bible across every motel and hotel in Amerika, will indeed be replaced by “The Faggot Bible“.

Cheerz and joy, and love your boy,


From: Zeke Krahlin
Sent: Wednesday, August 01, 2012 6:08 AM
To: Tom Keske
Subject: Re: Thomas, I am immersed!

On Wed, Aug 1, 2012 at 12:32 AM, Tom Keske wrote:

> Anything to get the Old Testament out of hotel
> rooms is the work of angels.

Better still: you’re /in/ my Bible as a Star Prophet. Ta-da!

> What total madness
> it is to live in a world where language like that-
> “They are abominations worthy of death and
> their blood shall be upon land”- is not even considered
> an issue. If it were Jews or blacks, it would be unthinkable.

“Disgusting” and “abhorrent” are two of the kinder words to describe this.

> To think that even gay people are so accustomed to
> that kind of attitude that they don’t have a reaction,
> is beyond pathetic. It is a kind of societal insanity.

H.G. Wells’ great novel, “The Time Machine” described a distant future where humans split into two races: the Eloi (who live aboveground) and the Morlochs (who live underneath).

The Eloi were a very childlike, frail people who lived most comfortably off the surviving technology of a long-dead but incredible civilization. (Unfortunately, they were also rounded up each eve under some kind of siren-hypnosis, and eaten by their herders, the Morlochs).

The time-traveling hero of this tale noticed an Eloi being swept downriver, while all the others continued merrily splashing away, oblivious to the imminent danger. They had no sense of any need to save the life of one of their own. So the hero rescued the drowning swimmer himself.

Don’t you sometimes feel like that hero, surrounded by Elois and Morlochs? I sure do!

Your alter-ego from the Left Coast,


From: Zeke Krahlin
Sent: Wednesday, August 01, 2012 9:50 PM
To: Tom Keske
Subject: Re: Thomas, I am immersed!

On Fri, Aug 3, 2012 at 12:23 AM, Tom Keske wrote:
> Ezekiel,
> Actually, Danny has been a vegetarian for a
> number of years, now.

Kewl! Any favorite recipes?

> Sometimes I wonder if I already *am* experiencing
> some kind of psychic link with alien life forms.

Don’t look to Martha Stewart in that department, my good friend!

Look, Thomas: I have been encountering some of the most beautiful men on the planet, not the least of which are Larkin and Derrick. It’s not like I’ve been experiencing this over many years.

In fact, this incredible phenomenon has only begun to manifest less than four months ago!

I would have to say that my fantasies as a gay revolutionary, are coming true. Thanks no doubt, to some kind of Extraordinary Universal Mind, that has chosen for some obscure reason, to grace me with incredible planetary wisdom and love.

Sinqueerly yours,


Date: Mon, Jul 30, 2012 at 5:09pm
From: Thomas Keske
To: Zeke Krahlin
Subject: Re: Thomas, I am immersed!

“Am I not a man and a brother?”


If there were any higher forms of intelligence interacting with this world in any way, it would be similar to how it would be if you could go back in a time machine to the days of slavery, men in chains, used as beasts of burden, etc.

You could hear Southerners claiming that their “peculiar institution” was really to benefit Africans, because they were better fed, had more medical care, etc, etc. That slavery was a God-ordained institution. That they treated their slaves well.

You would not buy a word of it. You would not be fooled by the propaganda. You would not consider it a minor issue. Your perspective would come from a totally different time and set of circumstances.

When a higher form of life heard that gays don’t really have it so bad, that we aren’t mistreated, they would see the gay teen suicides, the murdered gays, the psychological torture inflicted, the covert
genocide, the degrading and dehumanizing attitudes, the insane sea of hatred.

I think that any higher form of intelligence would be trying to help us as a priority issue.

Regards, Tom

Tommy Tree Hugger

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