It’s. Happening. Again.

Dear Diary:

Okay, okay, I don’t keep a diary, much to the chagrin of one Tyler Kokjohn, who wishes I’d publish a diary. But if I did keep one, I would write in it this….

It’s happening again. I’m being flooded with sensible insights–truths–into life, the universe, and everything, while at work, that are so powerful and complete that I have to stop what I’m doing and jot them down lest I forget before making it home or to the next moment, whichever comes first.

Yeah, even in my diary I’d do run-ons.

The first time this happened it was at a temp job in New York. Thankfully, I had much less to do there than at my current job here, so it wasn’t annoying. Now it’s kind of annoying. Couldn’t the powers that be in my head choose, like, toilet time? Or, I’ve got nothing to do today–Mario Kart Racing, or get crackin’ on that Rupert Sheldrake book, decisions, decisions time? No-no, work. Work time. That’s fair. Assholes.

Still Urgent After All These Years.

The first time was a prelude to transcending… well… everything. I was flooded with these epiphanies, these unspoken and over-spoken points of clarity. They came as facts that appealed to the intellect. Years later, I expounded upon them and squeezed them into my book, Urgency. That they came before transcendence and not after is telling. Telling what, I don’t know, but it reminds me of the fact that the prelude to a deep hallucinogenic trip is flashing geometric patterns and symbols. Logic comes first and then is out the fucking window. Perhaps that is why we are making a beautiful world terribly uninhabitable to the best of our know-how. Let that sink in while I digress….

What comes next this time? After I’ve gotten this round of zeros and ones out of my system, am I invited back to the party I left to write about the party the first time? The first time left me with a decision to make: Go be yourself or BE. I didn’t know what BE-ing entailed so I came back to the Jer we all know and love and stalk and hate. Was it a mistake? Was it the right thing to do? Was the choice a necessary illusion? Does the illusion of choice present itself once you’re “back to normal,” i.e. back to dichotomies?

Perhaps nothing comes next. Perhaps I make a little detour back into mystical writings then quickly get to work on my highly anticipated adventure novel, Fartocalypse. (Just… go with it.)

Or perhaps a mutation occurs. No longer is there a taste of the all-encompassing stage beyond stages followed by a presentation of choice. Now it’s just poof, I am that. And you may never have any evidence that it happened except for this blog post. This blog post and the secret code I’ll have hidden in my highly anticipated comedy novel, Free Space: The Real Life Story of A Bingo Queen. (Don’t be surprised.)

The point is, Diary, this is happening again and so at the very least I’ll have a heaping, steaming, load of new perspectives that will blow the walls off our thinking box. The only question I can answer is: What to do with them?

Does anyone really care about another book? Or a trickle of blog posts? Or youtube videos?

Is there another way that is powerful and actually reaches people? Does it even matter at this point?

Dear Diary:

Are these truths unfolding in my head actually just something that happens? Though they are applicable to all because they are universal, could one small yet crucial fact have missed us completely through the ages?–Namely that, like the onslaught of geometry is prelude to a psychedelic transcendence of personal self into a carnival of Mind, an onslaught of intellectualized truths are prelude to a total transcendence of the personal self, the carnies beyond, and Mind.

Maybe they aren’t for anybody and at the same time apply to us all, which fools us into believing they need to be repeated or taught. They’re in me because they’re in all of us. They are us, voiced or not. And we’re the thing that needs to go. Be understood and thereby dissolved.

If that’s the case then these epiphanies are me shedding my skin. If you pick it up and wear it because it fits and feels right, first of all, ew. But second of all… you’ve just added another layer to yourself that needs to dissolve.

Helping people might be hurting people. Unless you see all of this with the clarity of an arrow through its bullseye.

Then we never need discuss this again.

Um…

Diary.

 

 

All of My eBooks Just $2.99 Each!

I Know Why Book CoverUrgency Book CoverInto The End (front cover)

In a bid to make enough money to fly back home for my cousin’s wedding this August, I have lowered all of my ebook prices to the incredible impulse-buy rate of $2.99 each! Kindle… Nook… whatever your ereader of choice is, you can own all of my work for next to nothing. So, please do! (Sort of. I just realized that I Know Why The Aliens Don’t Land! isn’t available on the Nook yet.)

Consider it a donation to a fundraiser for a plane ticket with the added benefit that you get to own a really great, critically-acclaimed collection of words that came from my head and spilled out of my fingertips for your entertainment and, perhaps, education.

Here are the links to the U.S. pages:

KINDLE BOOKS

NOOK BOOKS

More about these special books….

 

I Know Why The Aliens Don’t Land!

The book that started it all. This is an autobiography written in the style of Robert Anton Wilson’s Cosmic Trigger series. You will learn why these visitors we call “aliens” don’t just land and say hello, but not before being taken on a whirlwind ride through the life and times and mind of the man-child making these wild claims.

Urgency.

If I give your brain every answer to every big question it’s been plagued with since the dawn of time, will that stop thought? If so, what happens in that moment? And if that doesn’t happen, are you at least left with a feast of spirit food to chew over? Yes, definitely that. This is the book of mind and spirit for those who have had it with religion and New Age. This is the real. And it’s written in plain language so that you will understand it.

Into The End

A coming-of-age sci fi/horror epic that starts off like a small and simple tale, but ends with your jaw hitting the floor. No less than that. Take everything we’ve learned from my previous two books, plus the best of Paratopia, put it in a word blender set on “Stand By Me Dialogue,” and feast. By the end you may wonder if you just read a work of fiction… or a twisted truth.

_______

What better way to spend your tax refund? Ssssshhhhh-sh-sh-sssshhhh… I said, what better way.  Now please get to shopping. It’s for the children.

A Moment In Timeless

Into The End (dragon)As I was leaving the coffee shop, a boy sitting outside asked me if I wrote a Star Trek book. I said no I never wrote a Star Trek book. I let it hang there like that, like it was a possibility that someday in the very near future I could write a Star Trek book–because, you know, I’ve got that kind of clout. It’s a deceptive tactic I learned by watching Steven Greer lectures.

The boy asked, “But you did write a book, right?”

I said, “Yes. I’ve written three. I think the one you’re talking about is a sci-fi horror novel called Into The End–but I don’t think you’d like it.”  I told him that last part reflexively to warn him off of adult material. It really isn’t for kids.

He said he must have gotten Star Trek: Into Darkness mixed up with my book title. He asked me how long it took to write it and I told him that’s a tough question because I actually wrote the first draft back in high school. Then I thought how ironic that I’m warning a kid about 2 years younger than I was when I wrote the thing originally that he shouldn’t read it because of the adult language and themes. I caught myself feeling old.

“Do you like Star Trek?” he asked me.

“Yup,” I said.

“What about Star Wars?”

“Oh, yeah. In fact I like Star Wars better than Star Trek,” I said.

His eyes went wide with a look of nerdom I remember well. “Me, too!” he said excitedly.”It’s got a way better story than Star Trek and way better characters.” He launched into a mini lecture on the greatness  of the Star Wars saga. I caught myself feeling timeless.

I cut him short. I had to catch a bus. “You’re catching a bus?” he asked kind of incredulously. Maybe he didn’t picture a rich writer taking the bus. Or maybe he thought I was blowing him off. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was a poor writer. How do you tell a young boy with his whole life ahead of him, “Chin up, kid. You can be anything you want in life. But, you’ll probably still work a soul-crushing 9-5 job. They don’t teach you that part in school, do they?”

I also didn’t have the heart to tell him I was blowing him off.

Sorry, kid. My generation invented the Star Wars vs. Star Trek debate.  It’s people like you–little people–for whom George Lucas invented Jar Jar Binks, the character that single-handedly changed the debate of Star Wars vs. Star Trek to Star Wars vs. Star Wars for my generation.

Then I felt my eyes go wide with a look of nerdom.