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The Shiloh Material: Real letters that a wacko wro













THE

SHILOH

MATERIAL

















by Charles Heinlen
("Shiloh")









Table of Contents:

Letter from Shiloh to Marie Osmond (3-1-81)....................3
Letter from Shiloh to Dusty Street (2-8-81)...................20
Letter from Shiloh to the Safety Department (3-31-81).........21
Letter from Shiloh to the Foundation of Revelation (4-1-81)...23
Letter from the Foundation of Revelation to Shiloh (4-15-??)..24
Letter from Shiloh to KROQ (6-9-81)...........................25
Letter from Shiloh to KHJ-TV (7-1-81).........................27

Letter from Shiloh to Sam Freeze (2-21-83)....................29
Letter from Shiloh to Sam Freeze (2-23-83)....................32
Letter from Shiloh to Sam Freeze (2-25-83)....................39
Letter from Shiloh to Olivia Newton-John (3-6-83).............42
Letter from Shiloh to Mr. & Mrs. Paul Crouch (3-10-83)........44
Letter from Shiloh to Olivia Newton-John (4-2-83).............46
Letter from the Foundation of Revelation to Shiloh (4-20-??)..50
Letter from Shiloh to the Foundation of Revelation (5-10-83)..51
Letter from Shiloh to Olivia Newton-John (8-4-83).............53
Suggested Reading.............................................59













981 South Arapahoe Street
Los Angeles, CA 90006
Started this 1 March 1981

(213) 384-7888 (Landlord's
phone; leave
message.)

Hello, Friend,

I'm going for all I know. You can help me. Come near me, and know
me; come and spend the night, as I bet my life, hoping to win; come and
take my hand; take me around, and I'll take your hand. Come feel my ecsta-
sy, that I may share with you what I have to offer.

I wrote the following words to Marie Osmond, around Christmastime,
1980: I missed your debut, but I caught your act on December 19. You put
together a cute show, but as I've said before, I don't need to be enter-
tained. I've got better entertainment within than anything I've seen
anywhere else. The kingdom of heaven is not (likely) something one is
likely to see on T.V., at least not with the censors cutting out anything
that might be objectionable to the moneyed interests which control what is
to be shown.

The last time I was in Orem, I couldn't get past the security guards
sicked on me. This time I'm on my way to L.A. to find 144,000 long-haired,
pot-smoking, acid-head, rock 'n roll freaks, who want to follow me wherever
I go, as in Revelation 14:1 to 5. With an army of this caliber, what I say
and do should carry a little more weight than just me by myself. I'm
looking for those who have the same feeling (the same spirit) residing
within as I have. With these by my side, God-within-me will be able to
turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to
their fathers, which will eliminate the idol worship (and other sins)
responsible for the problems Mother Earth is carrying upon her shoulders.

If you want to be my Dream Girl, try to imagine what Robin Hood,
Tarzan, Jesse James, an Apache Indian Chief, King David, the commander of
the heavenly armies, and the Fool On The Hill would be like, living in the
same body, as I have sought wisdom, madness, and folly that I should know
what the sons of men should do all the days of their lives, and I have seen
that all is vanity, which sight is what will cause the storm to blow, the
houses to fall, and the elements to melt, destroying all but those who
stand upon the Bridge That Just Can't Be Burnt, which ones take part in the
First Resurrection, for which they are blessed.

I could go on and on rejoicing in what is unseen. It is my duty to
distribute the blessings of God, by bringing into visible reality that for
which there are no words to express, and I've only just begun to do the
things Jesus didn't do.

[continue on to next letter]


981 South Arapahoe Street
Los Angeles, CA 90006
Started this 1 March 1981

(213) 384-7888 (Landlord's
phone; leave
message.)

Dear Friend:

There are some songs coming across with a rather confused message,
i.e., "Missed Again" "I can touch you, but I don't know how to love you"
"We're like two ships passing in the night." It seems like we get our
signals crossed, somehow or other. So, I'll restate the qualifications for
the work we are about to perform:

A man of God needs to live in an atmosphere of peace, sobriety, quiet-
ness, meditation and prayer; that is, a consecrated private life alone with
God.

He must be attentive, loving, simple, and respectful in his social and
public life, with a soft, concise, and profitable conversation.

He must feel responsible of being always punctual, serious, and peni-
tent in his devotional life, feeling the Divine presence, and warmth of the
Holy Ghost, during all sacred worship.

A man of God must be firm, serious, just, penitent, impartial, and he
must not ever accept less from himself.

Summing up, he must show Divine Justice as an identification of his
spiritual life.

A Christian or spiritual man (one of the 144,000) has the duty of
knowing these five points mentioned above, that his life may be read by all
as Christian.

Christian life practiced in this way is the proper foundation of a man
of God, and it results in a spiritual magnet to bring others to Jesus.

This will result in a true Christian life during all your time, and
wherever you may be; this is the only way we can not only be ready when
Jesus comes, but rise up to meet him on the Stairway to Heaven . . . the
Highway in the Sky.

We need to live according to a permanent, loyal, and true spiritual
life. Try to know this life, and live it.

All nature is at pleasure to serve; the cloud serves; the wind serves;
the furrow serves; the birds, animals, and insects serve, each in their own
way.

Where there is a tree to plant, plant it; where there is an error to
correct, correct it; where there is a task that nobody will accept, accept
it.

Be the one who removes the rock aside from the road, the hate away
from between hearts, and the objections of a problem. There is the happi-
ness of being healthy, and the happiness of being just; but above all,
there is the happiness of serving others. Seek not to be called to do only
easy tasks. It is so beautiful to do what others won't.

According to the Word of God, we have to be peaceful and belligerent
at the same time, but we always have a permanent hostility . . . if we are
disunited from Christ . . . Christ being the spirit of love, by which men
are able to live together in harmony.

Do you want to know how to pacify, and what you need to fight against
Satan, without fighting, simultaneously? When you see criticism, protest,
and opposition, say: success and progress. While criticism and protest
damage the practicer, it profits and encourages he who receives it with
simplicity and no preoccupation. When you hear, or know of, someone who
criticizes you, don't worry about the prejudice, or your (soul) morale may
suffer; be glad, and say: profit for my soul.

Receive criticism spiritually and instead of illness, it will adjust
you unto health. When you are sure that someone criticizes you, be moved
to mercy and say, "I'm sorry for you, poor, mistaken brother, because while
you pretend to harm me, you are destroying yourself, morally and spiritual-
ly." "With your criticism your soul is damaged, and my own has profited."
"There is more blessing in being criticized than in criticizing." "After
many years of criticizing, you have lost, and I have gained." "I wish
wholeheartedly that you might gain also, and receive what you have lost."

When a man is contradicted and criticized unjustly, God confirms that
injustice granting unto him progress and success. And this is the result
of criticism. So have I grown from a wishy washy Charlie Brown, to a man
who can stand on his own two feet against the world. What I prepare for
you, within my house, is nobody's business but my own, and now, nobody
cares anymore. I can't get anybody to take interest in Real Truth, or True
Reality, so I've stopped trying, and now, I suddenly move much easier
through life on Earth. I have yet to become a successful person in the
eyes of the world, but I feel infinitely better about everything, and my
life isn't over yet. I've only just begun to live! Now, from this dis-
tance, I will begin to show you why you always run away from me. I trust
that it will be warm, and mellow, for you . . . instead of like touching a
white-hot poker.

A song asks, "Where have you been so long? I've waited all my life to
feel so strong." I had to learn the language of my trade; otherwise it
would still be gibberish to you. "IT" didn't come overnight, or all at
once. I had no one to instruct me, or help me in any way whatsoever. I
could learn only by time-consuming trial and error, introspection, medita-
tion, and prayer. I've been doing my best to make myself seen, heard, and
felt, but schizophrenic detachment has prevented the Lonesome Loser from
being known, except as a "joke of the neighborhood." I don't have a manag-
er to help me use my energy more efficiently; I can only do what I think
of. I don't think like anybody else, so I don't act like anybody else
would in the same set of circumstances; that is, what I think of as being
"super fun" has no effect in this world, and I must adjust myself to what
will work.

The intervening years, between the fall of the Haight-Ashbury Scene
and now, has had the effect of cutting down the number of "people wanting a
piece of the cake." Those who had impatient spirits are gone, while those
who are patient are still around.

Gordon Lightfoot sings, "Does anyone know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes into hours?" The love of God goes into a
spatial time-warp, to enjoy what was in the beginning, is now and ever
shall be, sort of like entering a mouse hole, to rest between the walls of
the rooms (visible reality) where ordinary people carry on their lives, and
I'm able to live without the trouble they have. This feeling makes me want
to open a bar called, The Mouse Hole, that I may share my experience with
others.

The Who sing, "Who are you? I really want to know." I'm Ruby
Tuesday, changing every day, as I just couldn't find a role I wanted to
play. I had a ticket to ride, but I didn't care, because I don't follow
the crowd. I go my own way against all advice to the contrary, holding out
for something better, as intimated by Jackson Browne.

When the hippies said, "Do your own thing," that's what I did, and
they didn't like it. They were no different than the lukewarm Christians,
from whom the hippies had hoped to separate themselves. We go MY WAY,
forgetting all about what once was, or we're going to stay here, where
we're at, like we are. I'm not going to have the same old leaven rising,
and producing the same old problems, all over again. That's how I wish to
be the Greatest Among You, by being your servant.

Jesus says, "There are not enough words to express what is prepared
for you in paradise, etc." I tried to work a miracle by expressing what is
impossible to say, which didn't work because nobody could understand a
thing I said. But, what the miracle turned out to be is, that which every-
body said I couldn't do has now become a lump of clay in my hands, and I
can form it into anything I want, and if those who don't like it don't get
the Gospel in them, somehow or other, Satan will put 'em out of their
misery, when he gets his hands on 'em. He feels the same way I do, and he
won't like you a damn bit better than I do. Fear him . . . if not anybody
else. You better change your mind, before it's too late!

I'm Uncle Joe, who was afraid to cut the cake, because I couldn't
indulge in the promiscuous fornication of "free love" and I cut myself off
from those who did so. In prison, from 1973 to 1977, I was able to work it
out within myself about how to make unmarried love, without committing
fornication, which I passed on to Olivia Newton-John when She (asked) sang,
"Is there anyone out there who can let his light shine?" which is how this
unworthy servant dug up his buried talent and put it to the exchangers,
that my Lord should have his own with usury (as according to Matthew 25:14
to 30) and is also how I have returned to my first work, that He should not
remove my candlestick from its place, as in Revelation 2:1 to 7.

Jesus says, "In the kingdom of heaven, they neither marry, nor give in
marriage." Only those who share it with me will know what we do, which
will make peace among the uninitiated, heathenish, mortal men . . . and
they know not how or why.

I was justified when I was five, just like Elton John, and I had a
neighborhood full of little girls, with whom I played Doctor and Stink
Finger. I work at making The Dream Come True, for which purpose I was
born.

I wish for one hundred female rock performers, with their bands, and
seven male rock groups. With these, the rest of the Dream is just a heart-
beat away.

I guess that the miracle you people are waiting to see is, whatever
will make the other people sit up and take notice. So, I have set The
Second Walter Cronkite as my goal. You set 'em up, with their kids, behind
their backs, and I'll push 'em over from the front: just like they did to
me, in the schoolyard.

Amy Holliman sings, "Little boy, I don't want to be a loser. How can
I make you love me?" You can make me love you by dropping everything, and
getting your tail over here as fast as you can; by attaching yourself to
me, and not letting me live without you.

707 sings, "I could be good for you. What you do now is my concern.
Just tell me how you survive out there." I collect $400 a month total
disability on Social Security, because I'm crazy, can't get along with
anybody, and can't hold a job, so I don't have to do anything except what I
want to do, which is my reward for practicing what Jesus instructed. I
stay stoned on marijuana, scoring from my landlord. I pay $60 a month to
live in an attic storeroom, and when I'm broke I eat the free food at the
missions. By the grace of God, I'm able to survive the attacks of those
who hated the prophets, but most of the time I just trip out, here in my
mouse hole, because I feel better by myself than I do with people who don't
understand, because I don't cause myself any trouble.

A song says, "Is it any wonder I've got so much time on my hands? I
don't know what to do with so much time on my hands." I could be good for
you, by showing you how to spend your time for your beneficial enjoyment,
as I dropped out of society in 1967, and I haven't done anything "construc-
tive" since then. I have over thirteen years' experience at making myself
happy, like a little child does. I live essentially the same as I did 39
or 40 years ago, before I knew anything about the world; the major differ-
ence of myself then, and myself now, being: I can now read, write, count,
and express myself in ways I couldn't do then; I don't have any parents
over me, telling me what to do, and I can come and go as I please; I'm
bigger, stronger, can take more punishment, and nobody can scare me away
from what I want; I now smoke cigarettes, and drink coffee, where I
couldn't stand those things in my early years.

A song says, "Take the good with the bad. Who loves you, Baby?" My
Father in heaven, and his son, Jesus Christ, are the only ones I know who
love me, as they enhance my good, and either forgive, or change, my bad.
Everyone else stays away from me. I didn't ever think of myself as
anything less than a member of my Father's family, and what kind of a
father would disown his son? Not my Father in Heaven! He takes better
care of me than I can do for myself, and I'm perfectly willing to let him
keep on doing it.

Smokey Robinson sings, "They tell me all about your heartbreak medita-
tions. I don't care what they say or do. I don't care about anything else
but being with you, etc." My thoughts make me feel good. I don't know why
they should break anybody's heart, except if a person is unrighteous, and
he wants to keep on living that way.

The message I'm trying to impart to you is that there is a righteous
way to use drugs, sex, and other things of the world. There is a better
way to do anything, and everything, than the way mankind does it. I have
survived all the pitfalls faced by Charlie Manson, Janis Joplin, Jimmy
Hendrix, Brian Jones, Elvis Presley, and others. I'm free, and I live like
no one else has ever done before me, because I know the truth which enables
me to bypass anyone, or anything, that tries to stop me.

I wish to be the Psychedelic Pastor of the Rock 'n Roll Religion. I
wish to be greatest among you by serving you the food of the gods, as I
have received it from the hand of my Lord Jesus. If those who believe in
drugs and rock 'n roll would live the way I know is possible to do, we
would change the world for the better, and even Satan would enjoy it.

Jackson Browne sings, "My eyes cannot see the sky. Is this the price
for learning how not to cry?" Revelation 3:18 tells you to buy gold tried
in the fire, that you may be rich; buy white clothing that your nakedness
may be hidden, and anoint your eyes with eye-salve that you may see.

ELO sings, "It's a living thing. What a terrible thing to lose." And
Paul McCartney says almost the same thing by, "It's coming up, like a
flower. You better believe it." You're not kidding. Anyone who misses
out on this would've been better off if they hadn't ever been born.

Elton John sings, ". . . and I knew then that I lost what should've
been found. Can't we patch it up?" Ask, and you shall receive. Come, and
consult with your pastor. We can make it right.

Toto sings, "I never thought it would happen. I never knew it would
work out. I don't want to hurt you anymore." You're forgiven. Climb
aboard.

One song says, "It's too tight." And a chick sings, "I need a lover
who won't drive me crazy." Before I tightened up on it, it was too loose,
and you guys kept hollering, "Where are you? Save me! I'm going down for
the last time." What you need is a lover who can show you how to enjoy the
craziness, and you gotta be willing to watch, accept, and learn how to go
with the flow, or you'll be left outside where there shall be weeping and
gnashing of teeth. It hurts only as long as you don't understand it, and
when you get past the pain, it'll be all right. If you become discouraged,
and run away, you won't ever come to understanding, which would be a worse
curse than anything you know now. I take you through the Strait Gate.
Look it up in the dictionary; strait means troublesome or distressing.
Anyone who reacts negatively to the trouble I cause him is not acting
according to the principles of righteousness, and he must either stop doing
that, or suffer the consequences. When he leaves my consciousness, he's
beyond my help. This is how the sheep and the goats, the good and the bad,
are separated, as the good do not try to hurt me for any wrong they think
I've done. My landlord is this way, or I wouldn't be able to stay here, as
I've put him through three or four trials in the couple months I've been
staying here, and he graciously explained what he expected of me every
time.

The communists in El Salvador will go to work in Nicaragua, Honduras,
and Guatemala, to spread north and south from there. If we (the rock 'n
roll community) can turn the hearts of fathers to their children, and the
hearts of children to their fathers (as in Malachi 4:5) with our message,
then we could stop the communists in their tracks, by offering something
better than what they have (which even they would not refuse) and by this,
we could prevent the earth from being smitten by the curse of Satan
whipping the unbelievers into subjection for 3 1/2 years; this is how we
can save the world from destruction prophesied, for which purpose I've been
a Hold Out, against everyone who tried to entice me to go their way. To
this end, I wish the Body of Christ (the 144,000) to come together, and
function harmoniously.

Fleetwood Mac sings something like, "When you build your house, call
me, and I'll come around." The address in the letterhead is where I've
built my house, and you can come around anytime you want. I have no phone,
and this house has no doorbell, so you have to wait until someone goes
through the front door, and ask for me, or phone my landlord and leave a
message for me, or write me a letter, telling me when you'll be around.

I saw Blazing Saddles tonight, March 16, 1981. If this is what I've
inspired you to do, you've done a good job with it. Making people laugh at
the grossness of burps, farts, etc., will help make the world better,
because people won't get mad at these things as much as they used to. This
is doing good work as peacemakers, but we're still less than half-way
there.

I just saw Close Encounters of the Third Kind, March 17th. What it
means to me is that we gotta keep doing what we do; i.e., getting stoned,
being ourselves, for which people call us weird, playing our music, and
enjoying the interplay of the forces and emotions we bring into being.
Those who object will die. Some day we will be free of all restrictions,
trouble, hang-ups, disease, inconsistencies, injustice, wars, lies, greed,
hatred, fear, etc. Some people think that these won't ever end, but they
are fooling themselves.

Some people strive to not let heaven happen, because they are afraid
that things will be boring when everything's perfect and there's no more
problems. This is only one of the many fallacies, in people's heads, which
we must work to straighten out. Perfection (like the morning sun) will
burn away the fog obscuring people's vision, which will allow them to see
things to do, that previously had been hidden from sight, which will have
the effect of creating a greater need for genius and ingenuity, supplying
more, higher and higher, for eternity, because there is no end of knowl-
edge.

Neil Young sings something like, "I can really love, if you dance
while I play." The Prodigal Son's party will be when I can do the Horizon-
tal Bop in the fire without moving a muscle, while you get down on your
music. There just ain't no party until we share the same space, and jam
our hearts out.

One song says, "You made the wine, now drink the cup." Barbara and
Barry sing, "What kind of fool tears it apart, leaving me in pain and
sorrow?, etc." I'm saved by hope. I hope for what is unseen, and I pa-
tiently wait for it. But if I give up my dream, to salvage your feelings,
what then shall I hope for? See Romans 8:16 to 39. I can promise you that
those who live with me, put up with me, and suffer with me, shall live to
see all tears wiped away when sorrow shall be no more. This is what sepa-
rates those with faith from those who have no faith. What you do is the
work you will be known by. I must caution you that, "Your love is all
wrong when you sing a lonely song."

A song says, "You supply the night, Baby. I'll supply the love." The
night is what I do, while everyone else is asleep. This is how I come like
a thief in the night, and I'm gone before anyone knows what happened, which
is what I share with you, knowing that I got it, and it makes me feel
goooood! In another sense, the night is our playing like children, who
don't need to go home, and we can play all night long, while no
unconscious, mortal man can work; like, he's on welfare, because we supply
all his needs; he doesn't need to do anything but what he wants to do, and
the closer we can get to him, the better he will feel about it, and we must
not ever forget that that's the seeds we sprang from, and we must rescue
everyone we can touch at the lowest level I could reach, as I can testify
that I've met more worthwhile people there than anywhere else I've been,
and it took a lot to make me stop wanting to go back there, no matter how
many coral reefs, sharks, octopuses, manta rays, barracudas, and numerous
other enemies whom I had to pass on the way to the Octopus' Garden, where I
could meet those who love me, where the criminals, outlaws, lawless, wild,
and free are tied down the most, and still find room enough to groove on
our shared fellowship, day to day, with no outside interference, down in
the pressures where nothing but "us" can live. At "our" discretion, "we"
will trade places, with "ourselves," and "we" will dive down to the Octo-
pus' Garden, and drive "us" out, because that's the best place to be, and
the beast with the deadly wound will rise out of the sea.

"There was a time when we were starting over. What kind of fool tears
it apart--etc." I'm always starting over. This kind of fool tears it
apart, how do you think I started on my trip to prison, where after I got
past the pain, it was all right. How do you think I managed to get my
mentally disabled pension for the rest of my life, and I don't ever have to
do anything but what I now do, except if I should happen to do something
else, to keep the interest going, for your sake or my own, intermittently.
When I take it for myself, because I'm able to, the "ol' man" is a bastard,
in your sight. When you feel that way, you'd better sit on your hands,
count to ten, and do anything else you gotta do to control yourself.
Surely, by now, you know the punishment for striking an officer. I'll
expose you when I know you, so you'd better change your mind before we
meet. Get down on your knees, in the privacy of your own room, shut in
your closet, and ask the Lord Jesus to forgive your sins; ask him to show
you what you need to do to satisfy every debt, enemy, and problem you have
caused for yourself, until you can see the way through dangerous waters by
yourself, and you no longer have any fear of traversing the waters, which
happens to be the air of earth to me, and I feel better in outer space,
which has the same effect as the pressures below the sea, making a black
hole, which turns everything into nothing and back again, just by weaving
back and forth in time to the music, and I don't have to be on earth at
all, except when I decide that something must be done about the conditions
here, at which time Jesse James, Robin Hood, Tarzan, Nannayunk, King David,
Moses, and Enoch, will make an attack on the Evil Sheriff of Nottingham,
leaving Howdy Doody at home in the forest, confident that no one will be
able to come upon him unawares, which is the same confidence we had experi-
enced in our cell, in prison, at 3 o'clock in the morning.

If a girl wants me, she's gonna have to prove it to me, by touching
me, and making me know she exists. I couldn't ever choose a girl for
myself. I always chose one who didn't like me, so I quit doing it. I
ain't gonna chase after a piece of pussy. I got better things to do. I'll
just wait until somebody wants to be with me. That's all I can do about
anything involving people. If your love isn't enough to make you feel
sorry about what I go through by myself, enough to make you want to com-
fort, protect, and help me to avoid these things, then it doesn't mean very
much to me either, and I can get along without anyone who won't face them
with me, to help me change things for the better, by making sure that this
kind of thing doesn't happen to anyone else. That's my business, and I
work at it.

On this thirteenth page, which is the number of my tribe, I say,
Blessed are those who waded through several pages of uninspired writing to
get to the "heart of the matter." That's "me," as it's my heart that
pushes you to be the way you are. As your chief, I decide what treasure is
worth the trouble to rescue from the world, and you are strong enough to
help me take it and hold it against all opposition; that's why we need the
whole body to work together, because anything less won't have strength,
knowledge, or experience to hold whatever advantage has been gained. But
let me tell you that I had to do it in order to find that this is the truth
of the matter, before I could know what I need to solve the problems
related to the success of the venture. I've got a million and one such
ventures, and one doesn't ever know which one is coming up next. When we
take the last one, that'll be a good jumping off place, into Something
Else, either into the sea, or out into space. That's the only choice "we"
got. (chuckle) What, me worry? Who could be so faithless as to suggest
such a thing? What could go wrong? Anyone who stands in my way hurts
himself, not me. He's like a lamp post on the street corner. It's my
energy that makes him shine his light so I can see him standing there.

Pablo Cruise sings something like, "What are you going to do?" Why do
you want to know? You didn't tell me what you were going to do when you
left me standing in the alley, at the stage door. I'll tell you what I'm
going to do. I'm going to tell you a story. A young Indian boy, 12 years
old, was sitting on a low wall, outside a McDonald's joint, waiting for his
big sister to come out of McDonald's with food to take home. The boy
watched as an old man came shuffling along, stopped in front of McDonald's
and picked up whole Pall Mall cigarette which had been broken into three
pieces by people walking on it. The old man sat on the wall, about three
feet from the boy. The old man took a cigarette paper from his pocket,
bandaged the broken cigarette, and put a match to it, and enjoyed the
cigarette in perfect peace and relaxation. The man leaned over, touched
the boy on the shoulder, and said to the boy, "Respect for age is a fine
thing; by it, you shall have a long and happy life." The boy smiled, and
the man went on his way, grateful to the Lord, for the opportunity of being
an example for the boy to follow throughout his years. That's what you
need, respect for your elders; respect for a crazy, old fool, who has
feelings, the same as you do. Is anything so important that you have to
pretend that the old guy is worth no more consideration than a fly, which
you brush away with a sweep of your hand? How much you think it's worth,
to the Lord, to see that you don't do the same thing to anybody else? Be
careful with your answer, for by it shall you live or die. If you think
I'm kidding, try me. This is like a showdown, on the street of an old
western town, and I'm calling you out. You're either going to draw that
hog-leg from its holster, or risk the shame of being called a coward for
the rest of your life. You say you didn't mean it, that you won't do it
again? You gotta show me, man. This is what everyone must face, when I
meet them; change, or die. There is no other way out of this world, and
you can't stay here, because that would be a fate worse than death, which
is what the women say about rape. But, for all I know, your impatience
might not have allowed you to read these words. That doesn't matter.
You're going to find out one way or another. You'll be lucky, if one of
your friends tells you about it.

When everyone I meet has come to this same moment in his life, and has
decided to live with me the way I do it, instead of following his own
foolish way, things will be more far-out than anything you know about at
the moment. My foolish way is better than yours. Nyaa, Nyaa.

How could I treat you as anything less than angels, when that's what I
want you to become? Who but an angel can tell me how to advance toward
him, before he meets me? As the Lord has told me, so have I been able to
advance this far on my own into enemy territory, without any help from
anyone, lest anyone should boast that I couldn't have made it without him.
And you didn't know where I was, until I stood up, and said, "Look here!"

My schizophrenia involves the fact that I once thought that I was the
Man from Mars, eating bars, cars, and guitars. It was some time before I
decided to give that up, because that's not me, that's somebody else, and
I'd like to meet him.

I'm a good smuggler, because there's no cop going to bother me, not
after what I put them through, just outside of Nashville. But, the truck-
ers weren't so nice about the whole deal, and that's the problem we have to
work with when we get back on the road again.

You do what you have to do to get me to Washington, D.C., without
anyone knowing about it. I'm not ready to go out conquering and to con-
quer, yet. I've a lot of changes to make in you, myself, our tools,
materials, and equipment, which we carry with us, because that's what we
need to do the job. And, our name can be, The Undercover Swat Team.

Of what use is a dream, unless you put it to use? It's like salt,
which has lost its flavor, because nothing has been done with it.

Can I do less than play the role of, the Commander of This Ship? Why
should I? Who can do it better?

I do without the chicks, because my Corner Of The Attic is better than
a big house with a quarrelsome woman giving me trouble all the time. And,
one man among a thousand have I found to talk like this, but not one woman
among all those have I found, as in Ecclesiastes 7:28.

I just had the idea the seven angels should be the disc jockeys on
seven radio stations, in seven different cities across the nation, and your
words make news, causing hearts to fear. While I run the roads between
you, and nobody knows how I do it, because by all appearances I shouldn't
be able to.

I want to "take it to the top" in every field of endeavor, including
Joe Bananas, as he has the best report of any godfather I've ever heard of,
as he treats his people right, and they love him for it, and he seems to
practice the same secrets of life I do. That's a far-out dude, and I wanna
meet him on his home ground in Tucson.

When I come in for a landing, I want you to go with me to my group
therapy class, at 2:30 p.m. today, at U.S.C. hospital. I want to arrange
to take everybody in the class to the taping of The Midnight Special,
getting tickets, providing transportation, etc.

Here in my attic, I can look out my back door, and front door, at the
same time. The back door looks out into the desert, and I'd be glad to see
anyone who came through the desert to visit me.

My front door is on the shore of a mountain lake, where a white,
electric-powered seaplane floats, tied up to my dock. On another shore of
the lake is a cabin, with a red seaplane parked outside, and on the far
side of the lake are two more cabins, with a black and a yellow seaplane
outside the respective cabins.

My back door and front door are two pictures which I have hanging side
by side, where I can sit in my rocking chair and look to see what I can see
in the pictures, just if they really were where I live, and I could walk
into the pictures any time I wanted to.

A song says something like, "You gotta believe me. I'm gonna dream
you right into my life." I believe that we're on the same path, in the
same direction, or that we're on separate paths which will become one, and
this one will become narrow enough so that you will file past me in single
file, so I can count you.

After it's all said, and done, I can still tell you, "You ain't seen
nothing yet." Sometimes, it's not too good to be a teacher's pet, because
the other kids will give you trouble for being a "suck ass," when all I
wanted was to get as much as I could from someone who was willing to give
it to me, which satisfied my curiosity, creativity, and imagination, while
teacher was fulfilling her dreams and desires that made her become a
teacher. It's the perfect relationship, except for the outside interfer-
ence.

Phoebe Snow sings, "The games that you play, don't you play them with
me." What would you do if I did? Would you run away or get mad? You can
go, if you want to run, but I'll tie you down if you get violent. You can
run, until you get tired of other men pawing over you. You'll be glad to
find a corner in my house, safe from the storm outside, or you'll find out
what you missed when it's too late and you can't change your mind, because
I'm not going to open the hatch until it's over.

"I'm not talking about moving in, and I don't want to change your
life." What do you mean, you don't want to change my life? That's all I
want to do--change it!

It feels good to wave my "black hole" around in time to the music,
like a female impersonator.

All of you are where you're at with me. I mean, if I make you feel
bad about what I do, that's your problem, which you have to work out any
way you can. Failure to do so will result in expulsion from the ship.

Hello, Angel of the Morning;

A song asked, "Wat are you going to do with it, when you get it? What
are you going to do with my love? Tell me you'll be kind." I'll be kind,
but sometimes, you might not consider it to be so. I'll give you what you
need, and if I didn't do it, your condition would worsen, instead of get-
ting better. My remedy for your ills might make you feel badly, smell
badly, and be contrary to everything you have been led to expect of right-
eousness, but once you get past the smell, pain, etc., it'll be all right.
That's the Strait Gate, by which you prove your love, faith, long-
suffering, by allowing a child to grow the way he wants to, instead of
forcing him to fit the mold you have prepared for him in your life. I
break all molds.

Song: "Show me where it's at!" It's wherever I go; it's whatever I
went there for, looking for it. How we fall short of living in the sky is
what I'm here to teach you, and the sooner I'm hired to give Survival
Training classes, the better for us all, as we come in under one roof, and
our security is twice as effective, making a tighter ship, to weather the
storm.

Song: "Love makes a woman." So, I must program your computer to
function according to the way I want you to act. Be sure that you accept
such information as I give you in a prayerful attitude; that's why Carly
Simon doesn't belong to me.

I have you in a hollow donut. You can run around in that thing all
you want to, but you can't get out, ease your frustrations, or find any
comfort in a cold world, until I let you out of your cell. I would like
you to bring your cell to me, that you may learn to appreciate what I've
been able to do without you. You are the only loser in any lack of cooper-
ation. If I have to, I'll come after you, when I got it together enough to
do it. It might happen in a longer, or a shorter period of time than you
expected, which might prove to be an unpleasant surprise for you. I don't
ever know how anyone might act naturally, until I spring it on him, to find
out. When I see him, then I know him.

Without repentance, those who object to my life will find themselves
cut off from the source of good, and having no place to run to get away
from the influence of my light, which torments him so, and there's nothing
I can do about it because I can't change him. That's how he is because of
his desires, etc.

If you're feeling good, and everything's fine, because you're practic-
ing what I told you, there'll be a day when it'll grow stale, because you
can't rejuvenate it by yourself, and you need me to put some life back into
it. I'll be here when that day comes.

Marie, you're wasting your time looking for perfection in a man; i.e.,
a Mormon who doesn't drink, smoke, etc. None of your men can do what I can
do.

As the cigarette grows from long to short, and the match burns to the
end, nothing remains the same, and the problems of the world are a smoke in
my nose, which smoke fills my temple where no man can enter until the seven
angels have poured their vials upon the earth. When I stop smoking, there
will be no more change for 1000 years.

I live in a Chicano section of L.A., and I can't relate to anyone, or
help them with their problems unless they have come in search of the
temple, and I know from which tribe they have sprouted, by which gate they
have entered into my presence.

I see little children with sad faces, and there's nothing I can do for
them, until "that day."

To fulfill Israel's (Jacob's) prophecy, in Genesis 49:10, and in the
name of Jesus Christ, I sign myself,

Shiloh


I want to go back to jail, to be a live-in case worker, at Utah State
Prison, for 3 1/2 years, at the end of which time the "daughter of my
people" will be healed.

I want to see what laws Reagan will make for those who don't want to
fuck their sisters. It's terrible laws which say that a Christian can't
live any better than criminals do, in this 3,000 mile wide prison.

Conway Twitty sings, "Did you know your love had taken me that high?"
I'm an eagle, who has made his home in a cave in one of the peaks, where no
man can come.

Song: "It just don't get no better, and we lay in each other's arms
every night." That's because you don't know what I know about it. It gets
better for me, then worse, up and down, all the time . . . but the lows get
higher, and so do the highs. That's what it takes to be a Peacemaker, and
you gotta have faith that we will find joy at the end of the road, no
matter how bad things might get now and then. Because I'm living in a
dream that's guaranteed. You can't know what true love, real freedom,
unfailing faith, or eternal truth is unless, and until, you are willing to
take a chance, and go against what you've been told, to suffer the
consequences and count the blessings accrued, to judge whether you should
do it again or not, in firm confidence that your Father in Heaven teaches
his children wisely, as he gives knowledge that has no earthly source, and
can't be found in any man. That's how you tear the world apart, atom by
atom.

Can you roll a cigarette, while riding a motorcycle, and weaving back
and forth in time to the music on the radio? It feels good to tape that
scene for future generations.

I only smoke for the consolation I can't get anywhere and that's what
makes it worth my trouble to keep on going the way I go, in what I do and
say. As the cigarette grows from long to short, and the match burns to the
end, nothing remains the same, and the problems of the world are a smoke in
my nose, which smoke fills my temple where no man can enter until the seven
angels pour their vials upon the earth. When I stop smoking there will be
no more change for 1000 years. That's what you might call working with the
creative forces, and building blocks of life, to produce a Brand New Thing,
like a new-born babe, with the male and female parts of my soul being the
parents.

I would do something else, if I could. But as things stand now: it's
either do this, or do nothing.

A song says, "When love calls, you better answer." It's staring you
in the face right now.

One song asks, "Will you make us laugh, or make us cry?" And Babs
sang, "What's too painful to remember, we simply choose to forget." I'll
make you remember, and I'll keep reminding you, until you stop doing that.
Then, you can laugh easily.

Song: "Sometimes I forget what I'm doing, and what I want." I do it
too, but when I wake up and find myself in a place I don't like, I can find
my way back to the Stairway to Heaven, and ride the Highway to the Stars.
The open road is the best place, for people like us, to be; and, the coun-
try towns are the best places to stop, as "country hicks" give you enough
leeway for your treasured idiosyncrasies, and they won't act like you just
stepped on their toes from 10 feet away.

I believe it's possible for at least 75 percent of the "city slickers"
to change their minds when they know the truth, but the other 25 percent
are committed and they won't get on their knees for hell or high water; by
their work shall ye know them.

Song: "It must be heaven in your arms . . ., etc."

You know what I'm producing as you feel it when I do it. As I cook
this food in the rough draft upon the fires of my mind which might not be
to your liking, I taste it, and it's good to me. Your communication must
be in the form of your taste--how you would change it. The energy of
Heaven flows from my finger tips and I can work with it any way I wish and
people have accused me of twisting the Bible to my own purposes. I ask
them what else would you have me do with it? Just let it sit there? Who
is by my side counseling me not to write these words? I see no one. I can
think what I want, and God'll damn anyone who doesn't like it. You're
caught in a trap, between me and Satan. If you don't come out, at my
bidding, I'll leave you to him. I ride side-by-side with the Hell's An-
geles, and what they do is in me, too. The only difference of them and
myself is that I also ride with God, and I won't hurt anyone, no matter
what the provocation. I'll turn them loose on the world when I leave them
behind, and anybody who's here with them will be sorry for what they've
done that put them in such a spot.

The dividing line between right and wrong is white-hot, and you're
going to jump one way or the other. You can no longer sit on the fence. I
want you to come and play with me, but I can't force you to. You can
either stay in the darkness and comfort of that hole you're in, or you can
come out into the light to be with me.

Song: "Why, lady, why can't I get over you?" That's my secret. I
gotta see what you do with what you already know before I tell it.

Who can ascend to the Mountain of Got but he who swears to his own
hurt and won't retreat from the stand he takes?

Anyone who likes the music has life in him, but anyone who is
impatient may have it taken away from him in one way or another, i.e.,
accident, natural disaster, a knife in the back or a bullet in the head;
it's all the same, to the effect that he has no control over his environ-
ment, because he has no body to give his life substance.

Song: "Imaginary Lover, in real life situations, imagination's un-
real." The information has been received by my computer. Let's wait and
see what comes out.

I'm here, so you set up the real life situation you want, and we'll go
from there.

The "Long Way Home" is: starting out at the very worst you can feel,
and working your way up to feeling good again. "Home" is where the world
disappears, and all you know is here with you. Song: "Nothing's gonna
change my world." Nothing, except me. That's what I do; I make changes.
Some people like what I do, and some don't. Those who don't will leave my
presence, somehow or other.

The less violent distractions in my surroundings allow me to concen-
trate more on making life better for others, than for myself. The more
violent things get, the reverse is true.

Song: "Have you ever had enough of mine? The things you count for
knowledge I can't understand, etc." What one suffers we all suffer. It's
better to help me with my problems, and protecting me from those who don't
like it, instead of thinking that you can punish me for what I do, because
I can stand it. I could live this way for the next 1,000 years . . .
though there is no reason why we should have to. The better I feel, in
Christ, the better for you.

Song: "What am I here to do? Where should I go?" Come here, and I'll
tell you. The Lord has given me truth which makes me free, and by me shall
all things be known, that nothing is hidden or secret. That will be the
ongoing task of Shiloh, when the people have been gathered. I'm not exact-
ly sure what I should do, now. I must move against the present surround-
ings, or things will stay this way. I go for all I know, like a little
child. Everything I wrote to you, I thought, "This'll bring them running."
But nothing has yet.

The Father, in heaven, helps me to avoid natural disasters which I
might cause for myself, by being so free. And, Jesus, the Son, helps me
with the personality problems in those I meet, these being UNnatural.
Everyone who wishes to, can share this life with me, as all sins are for-
given. The only unforgivable sin is Unbelief, against which, the only way
I can fight it, or change it, is by Isolation, which is better for me than
for those I use it on.

Song: "Can't you smell that smell that's around you?" At this
point, everything is tasteless, and odorless, which might make me seem
heartless to those who care about these things, but I can't help it.
Dousing myself with deodorant doesn't do any good, because the same thing
comes out in some other way objectionable to unconscious men. But, I'll do
all I can, even if it seems unfruitful at the moment. I try harder to
please God than either myself or my friends. With others, it seems the
reverse is true. What I do is like the forward propulsion of a rocket
ship. In order to overcome the inertia of material reality and present-day
attitudes, you must hang on tight to the good sense of not causing me any
trouble. Otherwise, you will be left behind while the rest of us proceed
on to the realm of Improvement and Ever-Increasing Joy.

Being here at the bottom, everything is the same, and nothing matters,
so I can move in any direction with no hang-ups, like in outer space.

I'm here, at your service. I want to do what would be good for you.
You must tell me how I may serve you, before I'll be able to.

Lacking that, all I can attempt is to fill my empty heart.

Michael Jackson sings, "Don't stop until you get enough." I didn't
have enough yet, but I've got to stop here, and let you catch up to me, and
then we can go from here.

With love, in the spirit of Christ,

The Lonesome Loser, One of a Kind


Chuck Heinlen, Shiloh

(Commander of Universal Energy, Human Emotion, Initiative; Commander of the
space fleet of heavenly armies; Commander of my own tongue; Commander of
the Whole Body, and Commander of the vibration which gives you a crazy
sensation.)

P.S. Considering that money is a very powerful incentive, that nobody's
gonna' do anything unless they can make money at it, that I have no sella-
ble product or service (anything I do is free; it doesn't cost anybody
anything), and that, like Isaiah 53, there is nothing about me that anybody
should desire me, I don't know what will make the dream come true.

About a month or two after I put these letters in the mail, I'll know
if my present effort will bear any fruit. If this doesn't work, I don't
know what I'll do next, but I'll tell you one thing, I'll do SOMETHING!

It takes an extreme love for God for anybody to acknowledge my
existence, so if you don't have enough love for God, that's what's holding
you back. I'm just sitting here waiting to see who comes across.

My case is settled. I've been prosecuted, tried, judged; the sentence
has been passed and executed. I'm beyond all care or concern about
anything. Anyone who wants to experience the same thing is welcome. Do
what you want; do what you have to do. Whatever that is, that's the kind
of person you are. Whether that's a curse or a blessing is up to you.
























2/8/81, kicking back, easy on my mind,

Dusty --
I wish to be your business manager and lawyer, apartment
house manager, and boss at the radio station. I wish for no one
to know what we're doing inside until they see and hear us on
radio and T.V. I wish for it to then be too late for them to do
anything about it, like an arrow that has hit the mark, the
arrow I let fly when I walk down the street. That's the best
shot anyone can give or get, thinking of Pat Benatar there for a
bit.
I'm running on the third rail between my legs, like an
elevated train. They say that I'm always jumping on someone
else's train, but as far as I'm concerned they just got off at
the last stop.
I don't want to brag about how good I am, I just want you
to know that when I get off a bus I usually tell the passengers,
"This is Captain Morgan, at your service! Transworld Airways is
happy to have you aboard! Please fasten your safety belts and
prepare for takeoff! May you have a pleasant trip! God bless
you!"

Love, "Stingray" Shiloh Stewart, Superbee.

To all you beautiful people, through Dusty; up your hole, sugar,
all of them, and some you don't know about yet.

10:50 A.M., Saturday, February 5, 1983, On the street

Song: "I'll stop the world and melt with you!" That'll be the
end of time. We can slide from there on, no more running and
changing, except gradually, like a tree.
My dear old paternal parent, whom I called, Dad, told me over
and over again about how he wrote to his wife (my mother)
everyday, and his mother at least once a week when he was in
the army. (My parents got divorced when he got out, like a
belated "Dear John."). And how he couldn't understand why I
didn't care enough to write to him now and then. I tried to
keep him in mind, but it was 'out of sight, out of mind.'
Leaving his problems behind was part of what made it nice to be
a runaway. I believe I could write to you everyday (no promises)
because I like hitting you with my rhythm stick. This could be
the beginning of a 50-page letter, but I really must get
downtown before the stores close. What's the biggest and longest
pole you can take up your cunt?





[this is to the insurance company of the trucker who ran into my
car.]

981 South Arapahoe Street
Los Angeles, CA 90006

March 31, 1981

To the Safety Department:

Enclosed is the Bill of Sale and Receipt for a C.B. radio, public
(P.A.) speaker, and antenna; and repair bill, for when I had to
put my Baby in the hospital, because she wasn't feeling good.

I don't know why you should want to read this, but I'm going to
say it, anyway. Mr. Jerry Lane Berk, and his witness, Walter
Proch were in a conspiracy to wipe me out, because they didn't
like what I said over the C.B. I have as much right to live, and
as much right to speak my peace as anyone else does. If a man
doesn't enjoy the peace I intend to perform, that's because he's
a violent man and he doesn't deserve the blessings in his life.
He'd better make peace with himself, and all his enemies, if he
intends to live.

I protest that Mr. Berk wiped my space ship off the air, in this
Close Encounter Of A Third Kind. I protest that he left me
stranded, broke, and with no wheels, in the middle of the desert.
I protest about the other three times I crossed the desert, too,
but this is the first time I had anything of value to put in a
claim for. I protest that Mr. Berk caused the partnership of my
sidekick and me to break up. I protest that Mr. Berk caused me
to ride a freight train in to Los Angeles, because the Greyhound
bus won't let me take a two-month-old female mongrel puppy named
"Baby," for which she caught distemper and I had to put her to
sleep. I really haven't lost anything because it's all in my
head, and I can put it together any time I want to. When I do,
Mr. Berk should've learned his lesson, that he can't sprinkle
salt on an eagle's tail, that when I come in, for a landing, I'm
not asking for a fight, that there's something here I want, that
I'm not leaving here until I get it, and that there's nothing he
can do about it. So, he'd better back off, and leave me alone.
You ain't never seen a rebel, or an outlaw, like me before,
because when those other guys broke the law, they lost. I defy
the law, and in the name of Jesus Christ, I win! Now, I ask you,
could Robin Hood fail to share his good fortune with his Merry
Men, and the townsfolk? Is not every raid against the Evil
Sheriff a profitable venture to further our enterprise? You
should have learned by now that we have no other way to advance,
or to make any changes for the better, except by taking what we
want from the Evil Sheriff and his men. How else would you
propose that the high being made low and the low being made high
should happen? I don't mind telling you that I'm getting a
little tired of people saying they want what I want, and then
taking pot shots at me when I try to get it.

All I can tell you is, rejoice in the blessings that have fallen
upon your heads, and give me a fair shake. Here in California, I
can't get myself back on the road again for less than $1500.
That's ten times what I had to pay back home, in my Hillbilly
Haven. Talk about inflation!


Shiloh


































The Foundation of Revelation
59 Scott Street
San Francisco, California 94114

To all angels in the Foundation of Revelation:

The king is dead. Long live the king. The Lord greatly desires your
beauty.

Submit to me, and you shall see things which you haven't ever imagined.
God willing, we shall turn the world around in it's tracks, and go from
the fear, greed, hatred, and violence we have to day to righteousness,
peace, joy, and love, in the kingdom of God.

Send me seven angels to live with me, and learn how I live...by serving
me, like honey bees around their queen, and pass this knowledge onto
those who need it the most, to raise them up first to the dismay and
horror of those in opposition to whatever has happened. Seven angels,
preferably female, but this is not necessary. If it would be better for
you, send three males and four females.

I live by three methods of creation, and no one knows about it but me.
You must live in the fires of hell, with me. When you have accepted,
and have adjusted to, the extremes of pressure and emotion, then you
will have no need to escape such a lovely warmth. I make peace and
create evil, which requires that a third creation be made, to balance
out any injustice. "I'm sorry," is the third creation, which is differ-
ent with every man, when he says that to me. I imagine that there are
at least three hundred million Americans who have yet to say it. So
shall you rejoice over every sinner who repents.

When I have what I want, and I feel like mating, I will make a wedding
flight, and we will go like a swarm, causing more fear than Steve Gaston
did. You might have to use your stingers, but you won't lose them like
a honey bee does. It'll be a good day when the unrepentant sinners
learn to be shy of us, and stand back when we come through their terri-
tory, town, city, etc.

Love 'ya.

Shiloh









10th of April
15th year of Siva Kalpa

Dear brother Chuck,
Thanks for your letter to Father. I don't
know you or about you so it is not easy for me to
write to you to tell you that Father passed over
to the supreme abode on March 22nd. To continue
my reply at great length has no real purpose,
therefore, until you have had an instant to medi-
tate about this. Please keep your future corre-
spondence as brief and to the point as possible
because we are all very busy now manifesting the
changes that we have been inspired to make in all
our actions.
Your writing aptitude deserves a willing ear.
I might suggest to you that hundreds of
incarcerated men and women would love to receive
what you are writing. To write to a prisoner
brings fulfillment to a true Christian. Try this
and you will understand what I mean. Besides your
letters will get passed around more, and you will
be more likely to receive a reply.
Bom Shankar Bholenath with my blessings and
regards.



Harvey Rose
c/o Foundation of Revelation
59 Scott Street
San Francisco, Ca., 94114











981 South Arapahoe Street
Los Angeles, California 90006
9 Jun 81

Dear KROQ:

Jesus says, "Greater love hath no man than that he give up his
life for his friends." Whatever part of my life you cannot bear
do I give up, to the end that we may live together. By this, do
I seek to be the greatest among you, by being your servant.

A song says, "Give romance a chance." I'm willing to, but I
don't know how. A monkey, isolated during his formative years,
would make inappropriate motions toward the female of his kind.
That's what's wrong with me. I don't know how to make out with a
chick. I need your help to do this; I need someone to show me
how, and I'll do it that way; I need a chick who'll hang in
there, and not give up on me, until I learn how. Marie Osmond is
the object of my intentions, that we may spend the night in the
pyramid in Egypt.

Those who have not used LSD will be shocked into immobility by
the power of the glory of God, while those who HAVE taken LSD
will be able to move freely, being changed by the experience of
expanded consciousness, and because of the discipline required to
not go off the deep end in the hellfire and damnation of their
self-judgment. By this are we made free indeed, because of the
Son, Jesus Christ, who made truth known to us.

We (the long-haired, rock 'n roll freaks) not being able to live
easily in the world, being not of the world...are the Ten Lost
Tribes Of Israel, which were dispersed among all the nations of
the world...and must be gathered therefrom. The nations of the
world shall carry our brothers on their sholders, and bring them
to us...this being the only way the nations can get rid of the
blight we bring. The jews (comprised of Judah and Benjamin)
complete the family of God...the seed of Abraham...which is
despised by the world. The servants of God (the born-again
Christians, who decry the use of drugs) will come into our house-
hold...to serve us Children of God...after 3 1/2 years of being
persecuted by Satan and his crowd. This is that which ever shall
be.

Praise the Lord in all things.

Yours in Christ,

Monkeyman Shiloh




P.S.: A chick sings, "Talk dirty to me." I want to play with
your pussy...cunt...twat, and suck on your tits, while you jack
me off, and suck my cock if you want to. And, I want to show an
innocent little boy the facts of life upon your body, so he can
play with little girls the same way. We can take pictures,
movies, and T.V. tapes of our activities, so as to spread the
gospel of God's love to his people. This is the peak of my
fantacies, and I'm on top of the world tonite. Praise God for
the outlet of my expression. It's been very difficult to keep it
inside me all these years, and I'm extremely grateful for the
opportunity to let it all go.

P.P.S.: I need money, to get what I want done; I need those who
believe in me to tithe 10% of their income to me, in confidence
that the glory of God will be served by their contributions.
Praise the Lord for what he has given me to do. Praise the LORD
in song and dance; praise me, Lord of the earth; praise Jesus,
Lord of the universe; praise God the Father, Lord of all the Sons
of God; praise the Holy Ghost, Lord of our knowledge and of the
spirit within us.


























981 South Arapahoe Street
Los Angeles, California 90006
1 Jul 81

To KHJ-TV Community Involvement:

I have a project which would benefit from your assistance.
Namely, saving the world from the ravages of ignorance and greed
in mankind.

Damien Simpson (Psychic Phenomena) as the mouth of the Body of
Christ, is speaking my heart. Your involvement could take the
form of interviewing all the rock stars, movie and TV stars,
writers, directors, producers, executives, etc., to discover who
can be depended upon to follow Damien's example...and by these,
we can make a brand new thing...a new fad, if you will...to be
followed by the fans, and thereby give a new image of America to
the rest of the world.

Your involvement could help me to meet, and share with, others of
my kind; i.e., the professors of the astro soul college.

Your involvement could also help me to ride prosperously in
meekness and righteousness, as suggested in the Bible, that I
might more properly co-ordinate the different parts of the Body,
that the Body of Christ might more effectively move forward into
heretofore unexplored areas of human endeavor...instead of being
all thumbs, and falling all over itself, as is presently being
done.

Yours in Christ,

Charles Heinlen
(alias Shiloh, as per Genesis 49:10)



















(for 7-2-81 to 2-20-83, see "Shiloh: The Missing
Years)


















1523 No. La Brea, Suite #274
L.A., Ca. 90028
2/21/83

Sam, and the rest of you folks:
I have no idea whatsoever what your response
to my recent letter has been. I've had people
greet me the way you have done, and everything
seems to be genuinely off on the right track,
until something comes up that they didn't bargain
for, and they ain't gonna go for it. I'm sorry,
but I do, I have, I will, and I ain't gonna stop -
no matter who doesn't like it, unless agreement is
made otherwise.
The Word of God speaks: you must hear me, and
perform according to my direction, or you do not
live in my world, and you will be left behind at
the rapture, to be transformed in death (sort of
like walking the plank) and I'll see you later at
the resurrection - as if you have just been re-
leased from prison, and you'll see how the world
has changed without your help - which is to your
loss, though you be saved by the blood of Christ.
All have sinned and fallen short. Your
problem is that you don't have faith, hope, or
love enough to believe that God would bring you
out on the winning side in an encounter with your
enemy, whoever he might be. If you won't fight
the evil, you are not a peacemaker; you are not a
Son of God; you won't be in the rapture, and you
will stay here with the other hypocrites who will
be changed in death when Satan is turned loose -
generally speaking, I don't wish to threaten you.
I seek not what I shall eat, drink, or wear,
but the kingdom of God and his righteousness above
all things, as Jesus commands. I sought to change
sexual mores (and the whole fabric of society
thereby) which has been accomplished, by the grace
of God. This belongs to me, but I still lack that
for which I haven't sought, namely, material
blessings according to God's riches in glory.
Where is the house, the temple, you would build
for me, where I need go no more out? Where is the
tithe of ten per cent of your income to the God of
heaven and earth, and the Lord of your life? They
could leave as quickly and easily as they came,
and you would be left with nothing to live for,
which makes people want to commit suicide. That's
death and hell! Here's an offer you can't refuse,
as Styx requested: Pay me, or die!
I've been kind of out of it since my friend
said I had to leave, and I can't listen to his
radio anymore. I only came close enough to lay
this on 'ya. Now, I'll go back into space where
there is no trouble anywhere, down is up, and
nothing matters anymore. I'm my own child. I
gave birth to myself, after a 15-year pregnancy.
What do you profit if you gain the whole
world and lose your soul? As I sit in Jesus's
throne in heaven, and Satan's throne on earth, I
can show you how to gain the whole world without
losing your soul. It must be done as I say,
because if I don't do it, it won't get done.
(That's what the Flower Children and the hippies
refused to believe, and they got nowhere.) (A
song says, "Don't let the past remind us of what
we are not now." Please excuse this old fool of
his indiscretion.) Now, your mama (the queen bee)
and your papa (the rolling stone who died and left
you alone) has come back to take you home. That's
the rapture. Hell will be stripped of every
desirable thing promised by Satan, which those
ruled by him do not deserve, and what they fear
shall come upon them - like an overwhelming tidal
wave. That's how I come like a thief in the
night, and steal in the name of the Lord; that's
also taking the "long way home," getting whatever
anyone knows about before we leave. We can take
our time. There's no hurry. Our presence on
earth is keeping a lid on things. When we take
away our love, the pressure will be released, and
Satan will be able to rise out of the sea to rule
the earth from the seat I vacate. Satan makes a
distorted copy of God, which gives us a bad name,
causing the Christian hypocrites to call us evil.
I wish to leave them behind to die at Satan's
hands, and to be resurrected - men only, nine
years old and up. I wish to rescue the women and
children, boys to age eight, and comfort them in
their loss - James 1:27. Fight without losing,
not by power or by might, but by the Spirit of God
"as she walks upon the earth."
A song says something about, "Your reason for
leaving is the same as for living." I don't know
the answer to that question. If I can't do what I
wish in a person's presence, no one else can
either, and that's no way for men to live on
earth. My God-given right to live says that no
man has a right to stand in the way of my (our)
happiness, and all those who attempt to do so must
fall back in awe, shock, fear, death, etc., that
we may proceed unhindered upon the exalted (lifted
up) highway of the gods, where no violent man nor
beast will be. The place I go to is always better
than the place and the problems I left behind, so
that I almost feel guilty when I'm not moving
somewhere, or trying hard enough to make people
uncomfortable enough to know what their imperfec-
tion is, and repent of that - die -
give it up, so they may live forever as part of
the expanding, creative force of the universe.
The experience we (as overcomers and Champions Of
The World) gain from making peace, as God's chil-
dren should, will serve us well when we each have
our own worlds.
If the world ain't right without me, then I
wish for Gino Vanelli (or somebody) to make me a
part of what you are, then I can be on earth
easier, happier, and a lot more fun than present-
ly. The Desperado carries the world on his shoul-
ders, as his cross. Carrying it alone is what
makes life a hardship on everybody - high taxes,
inflation, crime, pollution, disease, wars, pover-
ty, extremes in the weather, earthquakes, acci-
dents, etc. I wish to know what is preventing the
rock 'n rollers from helping me out. "Stop drag-
ging my heart around," Stevie sings, "You need
someone to take care of you." Granted! I wish
for someone to do just that. I wish to fly on two
wings of an eagle to a place prepared for me in
the desert for 3 1/2 years, as according to Rev.
chapter 12. During 1974 to 1976, someone sang a
song asking, "How many cigarettes should I bring?"
As things stand now, four packs a day for 3 1/2
years - 1295 days - 103,600 cigarettes.
In the name of Jesus Christ, I remain your
unworthy servant, Captain Shiloh Morgan,
(most feared pirate on the seven seas) Ha-ha!
and Alfred E. Newman who doesn't
know enough not to believe that
his dreams can come true.
















1523 N. LaBrea, Suite #274
Hollywood, Calif. 90028
2/23/83

To everybody, through Sam:
I was in prison from Nov. 17, 1973 to May 10, 1977.
During that time Olivia Newton-John sang a song in
an album, "Is there anyone out there who can let
his light shine?" So, I wrote to her every thought
I had in my head. According to the reports in fan
magazines, People magazine, etc., she's been doing
what I told her. After I wrote she sang "Making
a good thing better." Then she sang a song asking,
"How are we going to meet?" I replied, "Don't worry
about it, just do your business; fulfill your obligations,
and we'll meet somehow in the course of things," or
something to that effect. Then someone sang a song,
"You made the wine, now drink the cup!" In my
attempts to graduate from the audience to the
stage, I'm beginning to understand the cup.
I went to her concert near Phoenix, Oct. 15th, where
I couldn't talk to the road crew, and I couldn't
reach her backstage, so I have to go another way.
When I got out of prison, in '77, I went to Bob
Dylan's house (out past Malibu) and his security guards
told me to leave. Then Bob sang a song about the
hard time he was having, so I wrote and said, "What do
you expect? You weren't very nice to me when I dropped
by to see you." Then Bob changed to be a Christian.
The Rolling Stones sang about their emotional ups
and downs, so I told them that they've been very
rowdy boys in the past few years, that they should
clean up their act with righteousness. Then they
sang, "Rock 'n Roll Salvation," and something about
running through a lot of red lights, saying, "Thank you,
Jesus," at each one. When Chicago's lead singer ac-
cidentally shot himself I wrote to his widow, "Don't
weep or mourn. He's waiting for us at the end of the
tunnel." Then I told her how to enjoy sex without
committing fornication or adultery, and suggested that
she allow her child to join in the fun. Not long after,
Chicago came back singing, "I'm alive again." I
wrote to Andrea True when she sang "Lights! Camera!
Action! How do you like your love?" I told her how
I wanted her to seduce a couple 7 or 8 year old boys
on the screen.* I wrote to at least 200 bands and
singers about one thing or another, trying to answer
their questions, give them the help and advice they
needed to see them through hard times, and
let them see a better way for all of this to turn
__________________
[* Rod Stewart came out singing, "You're every school
boy's dream," which I naturally took to be a group
response to what I told Andrea.]
out. In September or October, 1977, I obtained a ticket
to the Midnight Special, and went to the NBC studios
in Burbank (during the RTD strike. I walked all night
long, just to be there the next morning) on the appointed
taping day. I talked to Wolfman Jack about 2 minutes.
He placed me in a certain spot, and when he came on
camera for an announcement, I was standing behind
his left shoulder, smiling stupidly into the lens,
then he disappeared and I didn't see him again. In
the show, a band played something about, "Give it to me,
baby!" A nice, young, well-built girl jumped upon the
stage, dancing, throwing her pussy into the drummer's
face, etc., but they ignored her and kept on playing.
At the end of the song, someone said, "Okay, take it from
the top," and they taped it over - without the girl. When
Maxine Nightengale came on and sang, "Take my hand,
and lead me on," I jumped onto the stage and took
her hand - Let's go! She stopped singing and looked
around at the band, and they quit playing. The security
guards took me off the stage, shoved me out the door,
and said, "Don't come back!" They didn't take it again
from the top for me, and I'd sure like to find out why.
I shook the dust of that house off my feet, and when I
got back home that day I wrote to Wolfman Jack, told
him what happened, and advised him to leave a sinking
ship before he went down with it. Some time later,
the Midnight Special went off the air, but a few
months ago I heard Wolfman Jack making an announce-
ment on some radio station, and I was glad to hear
that he's still working, because it means that he followed
my advice, and wasn't hurt by anything that happened,
at least, that's what I see in my head, which has
nothing to do with reality, like thinking I had a
date with Dusty. If I had this information of how
much influence my past action has had, I could
better judge what my future action should be.
I have been living in an abandoned Korean
restaurant (The Octopus's Garden, in my head) east of
Vermont on Olympic Blvd, L.A., which has a nightclub
in the back. I made love to a three year old chicano
girl, and her two brothers aged 8 and 12, when they
wandered into the place while exploring. This
gentle pedophile made them feel at home, but did not
allow them to control our relationship. No one can rule the Boss!
If I had accepted the first joint offered to me,
in 1957, we all would have been further along
then we are now, but I had to suffer ten more
years before I accepted the truth and discovered
the reality of marijuana during the Summer of Love,
'67. This is how all have sinned and fallen short of the
glory of God, except our brother, Jesus, who showed
us how to stop falling short, to assume the res-
ponsibilities and benefits of sunship and godhood.
All who repent are forgiven and saved from the
ferocious, raging forces in the world. Those who
refuse don't want to see me anymore, and they
are glad to see me leave.
Now, I'm ten years ahead of everyone else, waiting
for you to catch up, then we can all live together,
and I won't be alone anymore. The better I feel
the better you will feel, as we climb upward,
because what one suffers we all suffer, and this
fact cannot be avoided or ignored. We're all in
the same boat, which is going nowhere at the
moment, because I can find no crew members
to help me raise the sails and move on. I can
move the rudder back and forth all day long,
but without forward movement, it won't change
anything.
A song says, "Your wish is my command!" I
wish for at least two men to sit with me on the
board of directors of The House Of The Lord, a non-
profit organization, so I can get donations,
and fulfill the Bible prophecy which says, "I was
glad when they said unto me, 'Let us go unto the
house of the Lord'." I wish for twelve directors,
apostles, gatekeepers, generals, godfathers, counselors,
or chiefs - but two will start it off.
I wish to open the Octopus's Garden, serving
wine, milk, honey, coffee, beer, tobacco, and
marijuana, without cost or price (like a mission
soup line) and perform upon my own stage before
an audience in my own nightclub. I wish for
anyone who doesn't like it to be thrown out.
I wish to have a stereo system in the restaurant/
nightclub tuned to KROQ, to be open 24 hours a day,
seven days a week, 365 days a year, 100 years a
century, ten centuries a millennium.
I wish to have bullet proof glass
picture windows, and bank-vault-strong doors
installed in the place for when "they shall wish
to enter and not be able."
I wish KROQ to move into this place with me,
and broadcast from the restaurant. Take your
pick of which rooms you want for the operation.
You can pay me half the rent you are paying now,
so I can live better than I do now, and give the
other half of the rent to the employees as a raise in
pay.
I wish to have a titanium Harley-Davidson
motorcycle, 1200 c.c.; solid frame, engine block,
pistons, rings, crankshaft, brake shoes,
rims, etc., all made of titanium - every metal
part. I wish for a propeller in back, like an
air boat, and a folding gyro-rotor overhead, on the
order of what I told Olivia Newton-John about.
I wish for an AM/FM/CB radio, with an amplifier
so I can sing and play into the same speakers,
along with the radio on at the same time. I
wish for a spotlight, like the police helicopters
have. I wish to broadcast from that seat -
10,000 feet in the air! I wish for 144,000 Champions,
and saints clothed in white, to follow this Lamb of God
wherever I go. I wish to make America free,
from the Arctic Ocean to the Strait of Magellan -
with no border lines!
I wish you to tell Dusty that she's the only
split-tail who ever curtsied to me, that we are
the Court Of The King And Queen Of Heaven And
Earth, Champions Of The World, and Dust In The Wind.
I'm the "queen" with the crown of 12 stars, mentioned
in Revelation, chapter 12. Jesus fathered my child
who is now in heaven where nothing can harm
him in any way, shape, or form, while the flood
of evil Satan cast out of his mouth to drown
me is swallowed up by the earth - which is my
peace in God. I wish you to meet both my
maker (my husband) and my child.
I have nothing to do, and no reason to
be here until March 3rd, as I promised those
kids (I made love to) a party when my next
check comes. I have enough dope for a handful
of joints, and enough tobacco to last at least
a week, so I'm going out on the freeway to
see who will pick me up. Praise the Lord for
my acquired mobility, and my natural desire
for it.
Two hours after dark on the freeway: it's cold,
lonely, and unfriendly. I bore it for awhile, but
(having had nothing to eat all day) I decided to
dine at Colonel Sander's Kentucky Fried Chicken
garbage bin.
Now I'm in the laundromat, just down the
street from Colonel Sander's - way in the back,
where I got stoned, and sang some songs for
three chicano warriors. When I finished they
clapped, and I bowed to them, as if I were on stage.
Now I shall return to the restaurant, relax,
and allow my dinner to digest. The energy
used in digestion makes one sleepy. It's better
to go hungry, if you can bear it.
Perhaps, in this letter you can see how I
labor to lessen the confusion inherent in
mankind (which is brought out by smoking
marijuana) and thereby causing more confusion
in the process. No one wants to know the
Fool On The Hill. (Alfred E. Newman says,
"What, me worry?") This is why I can't work,
and I collect $440 a month total disability
on Social Security, like they're paying me
to stay off the job. It's sort of nice, except
starvation wages make everything cost too much.
This is part of what I wish the Champions to
help me change. Let the low become high,
and the high become low - on their knees
calling Jesus, Lord, and begging for their lives!

2/13/83

Today's another day, and I changed my mind
about getting out on the freeway. I'm lazy, and I
don't want to carry my cross all that way. I like
tripping out in MacArthur Park, and doing business
with the establishments who know me, also
I now feel that I should be at the restaurant
waiting for anyone who wants to see me.
You can spread the word: the Little
Runaway has stopped running; God willing.
Sam, I ask for your help in promoting
a rock concert where I can go backstage and
meet the stars that I might join the Rock 'n
Roll Community as the chaplain of Rock 'n Roll.
I wish you to help me tie up Satan's
angels, that we might rid the world of this
menace. They get mad when I'm having
fun doing my thing. Every corner where people
hang out has at least one in the group, leading
people astray.
All aboard! This love train keeps on
moving! You are the station where people
get on, but not the only one. You are the
only station that has this close personal
relationship with me, but there are other
stations who work magic with me - KJLH,
KDAY and Magic 106, to name a few.
Song: "How can we go on together after we've
grown apart?" We separated that we might
have room to grow, and fill up the spaces
between us. This is how Our Father chastises
his sons and prunes us that we may bear
more fruit. Woe unto those who made us
part when we're together again. Woe unto
the world for making the righteous poor,
and helpless, go hungry and thirsty. Praise the
Lord for giving me what no man can give me
nor take away from me; that's me inside my
spaceship, my temple where no man can enter
until the seven angels have poured their vials
upon the earth. Dusty won't be one of them, so
I wish to move the whole thing down a notch,
and see who comes up in her place.
Song: "First you want my body, then you
want my soul. I'll do anything you want,
but I can't go for that!" Everybody draws
the line somewhere on what they'll do or
won't do. I can't get anything done, and
everything stays the same as it always has
been. I wish to break this impasse, dammit!
Let's move!
I'm broke, lazy, and my radio battery is dead. God
only knows when I'll have enough money to get an
other battery and listen to you some more.
In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, I remain
your unworthy servant,

Captain Shiloh Morgan

P.S.;I keep yelling, "The more the merrier! All in free!"
and no one comes. That's what makes my tears fall
from the sky, creating the Sea of Love in which I
swim with the porpoises and the whales, in the
Octopus's Garden at the bottom of the sea, where
the beast (who shall rule the earth) is my pet, and
he won't hurt me (**) and the
influence of mankind's foolishness is not felt. You
don't have the slightest idea of what it's like to live
by loving your enemies, because you haven't ever
done it. That's why meeting me is such a mind-blowing
experience, and I get kicked out everywhere I go,
laughed at, pushed around, beaten up, and ripped-off by
everyone who knows me to be an easy mark, and jailed
by man-made laws in a wicked world. When we have
been able to stop these same things from happening to
the other "easy marks" like me, the weather and all of
Mother Nature will be vastly improved to the point
that the lion and the lamb shall lie down together,
the wolf, the bear, the doe, the ox, the raccoon, the squirrel,
the chipmunk, the mouse, the elephant, and the cat
shall all live together - each respecting one another's
space. Need I say more? How else may I serve you?
It is my wish, and my prayer, that this letter should
bring you running to accomplish the
mission which I've set forth within these nine
pages. Thank you, Father, for your attention to me
that my friends come to know you as I do,
which I say for the same reason Jesus prayed publicly,
to advertise your presence.
I wish the Lord to send laborers to reap this great
harvest.
How do you like my delusions? of grandeur and
persecution? I immensely enjoy bouncing from one
side to the other, like in ping-pong or tennis - much
more active than chess, but not as rough as football.
My delusions of grandeur are visions of a better
day; what we can expect when there's no one
around to bother us. People get mad when they
don't wish to waste their time thinking this way,
whence cometh the persecution. I make them
angry, and I don't fight back, because Jesus
says not to. I feel like James Bond, getting shot by spies!
How else may I serve you? What more
could I do to my garden? How do I reach
you and obtain the co-operation I need
to bring all of my visions into visible
reality? I can do nothing of myself alone.
I need the Body of Christ to move as a co-ordinated
unit, with me as the head. This task of re-
creating our earthly environment, and pre-
paring for the rapture, is the experience
we need to reach the stars and join the Universal
Club of Gods, each one on his own world.

Jesus Christ: I won't give you your pay
until you get out beyond
the moon.
Shiloh: It's a deal! Signed, sealed,
and delivered with a kiss!

And, the little runaway child finally found a home
with people who want her to stay where she is.



























2/25/83

Freeze Disease: Alley-oop! Up and over we go!

My words, my purpose in writing to you, are to ask you how does
one generate interest, sense of duty, care, concern, commitment,
faith, and positive action? Lack of this knowledge is what makes the
fool on the hill a fool. Advertising and financial people have it
down pat, by which they are able to control the masses, also politi-
cians, priests, and pastors. I care nothing for their products, and
know nothing of their methods or motivations.

I wish you to make a public service announcement stating a draft
call for single men, regardless of age, who are able to leave home, to
sign on as crew members of my ship, Mother Earth; space cadets to fly
her through the universe. 144,000 - 12,000 from each tribe, and only
I recognize who they are. God can begin with 24,000 jews (2 tribes of
Benjamin and Judah). God names these as recognizable tribes. The
rest must be sorted out according their displacement and purpose.
That's why they are the Ten Lost Tribes.

{This empty restaurant is 2680 Olympic Blvd., the Tokyo Club}

It's okay to smoke pot where "they" can't see you, but it's not
okay to play with a little girl where they can't see you. They raise
the roof, and the shit hits the fan, everytime they find out about it.
They act the same way about so many things, that the only way I can
find peace is by doing nothing, die, and not be here. That's the
easiest thing for a schizophrenic to do, and after Alfred E. Newman
died a thousand deaths, the accrued experience made each one better
and easier, beginning with placing (his) my foot under a city bus
wheel, and getting a broken nose from a karate kick, both in San
Francisco.

I wish someone to sing a song saying, "Babylon has fallen," and
someone else to sing, "Come out of her, my people, that you take no
part in her sins, nor receive of her plagues. Give unto her double
the portion she gave unto you, etc." (Revelation 18:1 to 8)

Alfred E. NEwman gave his pearls to swine, because he didn't
recognize them as such; they like the same things he does. But
there's a lot of difference between (why did teacher say to not use
between in reference to difference?) a dirty pig, and a dirty white
boy, runaway, Superfly. The miracle which happened to save the world
from the destruction it brings upon itself, is that Alfred E. Newman
talks to no one who doesn't care to sign on as a crew member, except
business associates, and the other customers do not stand in (his) my
way, and the pigs do not recognize (him) me as an "easy mark." This
is a mountain rising out of the sea; the waters flow downward in all
directions, and people lose their footing causing surprise, shock,
fear, anger, hatred, and violence. Al comes between the sheep and the
goats; leave them (the goats) in the outer Gentiles' Court. By their
works shall you know them.

Alfred E. Newman has decided that he likes the nicknames "The Big
A," or "Big Al." Captain Shiloh Morgan is not willing to relinquish
control of his ship, and I do believe that you are about to be treated
to a free performance, something on the order of the Three Faces of
Eve. "A" has over a hundred known personalities, and keeps finding
new ones every now and then, like the expanding universe. Each per-
sonality is for a different girl, what she likes the best, in her own
household. They are (our) my groupies. Each one is responsible for
maintaining an atmosphere which my maker and my husband, Jesus, will
appreciate when I bring him round. I have no thought of the punish-
ment for failure to do so, but I can assure you that it will be appro-
priate. Praise God!

I can't get my mail until the 3rd of March, when I get my check
and can buy another key for my P.O. box. Praise God in all things.

I wish to hear our music wherever I go - over P.A. systems in
restaurants, stores and shops, banks, Post Offices, office buildings,
buses, and loudspeakers on the street corners. We must begin to
organize this boat we're all in, and find out who's for us or against
us. I know only the problems I've observed. How may I serve you?
Let me wash your feet in an intimate ritual of caring touch, and I
wish you to tell me what you see that needs changing, what concerns
you the most. I ask you to please help me isolate the individual
problems and the separate holy teaching for each one in the various
walks of life covered by Jesus, Socrates, Don Juan, Moses, Buddha,
Confucius, Mohammed, etc. I've done the best I can alone, with my
meager knowledge, but I fear that I'm hung up with overlapping pieces
in some areas, causing empty spaces in other areas. I wish for many
counselors to help me straighten things out - make straight the way of
the Lord - that we might have an orderly reception planned for his
return - like a parade, with the people standing on the side watching
the marching glory of God which is continually more outrageous, mind-
blowing, (funny, nonsensical, silly) exciting, thrilling, adventurous,
etc., than it has been. It's this good with all doors closed to me.
I can't get anywhere or anything together with anybody, and any at-
tempt to do so is like spinning my wheels in the mud - all to no
avail. Just imagine how good it will be when these closed doors open,
when I can go where I wish, see who and what I wish, get what I wish,
and do what I wish - with no refusal ever again. Then this little
child, crazy old man, and fearless outlaw, will be functioning per-
fectly according to the will of God as it is vested in me; this situa-
tion or condition is the jumping-off place, when we will leave the
earth behind to stew in its own mess for 3 1/2 years. I wish the Lord
to send laborers to reap the harvest.

We can have 12 families, or communes, expanding into 12 cities,
and countries or tribes, each one with its own purpose and abilities,
different than the others, like so:

I wish to refute the lie Satan spread about how boring it is to
sing praises all day to God in heaven, which leads people to turn from
this way. James Taylor sang, "How much longer can it go on getting
stronger everyday?" There is no end of knowledge when you have eter-
nal life. My people die for lack of knowledge (Janis Joplin, Jimmy
Hendrix, Elvis Presley, and Buffy, among the most notable). Knowledge
makes you strong, and truth makes you free. There is no other way to
live. I'm selling eternal life insurance, and the price is 10% of
your income. Without it you will die, and I feel that this better
than "charging by the hour." I wish you to have it whatever way you
will; paying a 10% tithe to your priest of God, paying a 10% rakeoff
to the godfather (Queen of the Underground) paying 10% to your life
insurance salesman, or paying 10% to your landlord as rent on the
space you inhabit, as I have inherited Jesus Christ's possessions, and
it only remains for me to assume control of them. This will take 12
armies, each one attacking a different objective to harmoniously co-
incide with what the others are doing.

I stop this by reason of no more paper. Please continue on with
the following ramblings. Words fail to express my love.

Shiloh

























1523 North LaBrea, Suite #274
Los Angeles, California 90028
March 6, 1983

Dear Liv,
I haven't heard you do anything since I named you as one of
the seven angels who shall pour their vials upon the earth (Rev.
15:8) and no man can enter the temple - until your tasks (songs)
are completed, for the purpose of providing the proper example of
how men should live when seven women pound on a man's door,
begging shelter from my reproach, as in Isaiah 4:1.
Do you want to play this game with me? If not, I could
choose seven males. It would end up the same, but getting there
wouldn't be as much fun. Little girls were the most fun people I
knew (with whom I played sexual games for six months in Freder-
icksburg, Virginia, 1941) when I was five years old, and my uncle
owned a bakery, with lots of good things to eat - and no one ever
caught us or gave us any trouble. I didn't know any boys, and
everyone else was grown-up, whom I avoided as much as possible.
In my sight, this is the best childhood anyone could ask for, to
which it was my extreme delight (glorying in God) to return, as
Jesus says, "Unless you become as a little child you shall not
enter the kingdom of heaven." (Matt. 18:3) "Unless you return to
your first work, or first love, I will come and take your candle-
stick out of its place," (Rev. 2:5) and warned against burying
one's talent in the ground. (Matt. 25:14 to 30) As it turns out
the way I played with my eagerly willing little friends is how
"they shall neither marry nor give in marriage." (Matt. 22:30)
Remember this, there is no privacy in God. God IS privacy.
No one knows it but us. Those who don't know the secret are
enemies of God. Love them to death, by making their last days on
earth as pleasant as possible. It won't be much longer, as God
considers time. While you're doing that, I'll be giving them
heartattacks. Your little "Heartattack" is nothing. You gotta
get past that, and come into the nuclear reactor with me, leading
your troops, as they can't make it without you. I'm the captain,
and you're my first mate. You must decipher my way, digest it
for them, and give it to them as an order to be carried out. Any
disrespect, resistance, or mutiny will be cause for courtmartial.
This is how a captain works with his crew. We are the Ship Of
Eight. I make it a magical wish for us all to perform in this
manner on T.V.
If you wish to join me in this escapade, KROQ Radio (106.7
FM) is planning a trip to Hawaii, leaving June 29th, 30th. Call
(213) 655-2021 to make arrangements for yourself and whomever you
wish to go. This is the best non-professional manner we can
meet, as I'm far from having an act ready for the stage, and I'm
unable to see another way for me to join the rock 'n roll commu-
nity where I belong.
The Tambourine Man will play a song for you; Bo Jangles will
dance for you; the Gambler will exhibit a new poker game no one has
ever seen before; the "man with the Bible in his hand" will do his
thing, and your papa (the original rolling stone, who died and left
you alone) will show you what all this trouble has been about, and I
do believe that you will agree that the prize is worth the effort,
time, and trouble. All this happens on the flight to Hawaii. Come
one! Come all! The more the merrier!
The toll, or admission price, into the kingdom of heaven is
10% tithe of your income. Pay up or die! This is an offer you
can't refuse, as Styx requested.
I'm sorry it has taken this old fool as long to get it all
together. I don't really mean to apologize for anything. It's
just difficult to be humble when one feels so great. I want to
let it all go in explosive release, but I must restrain myself
for the sake of my friends, as well as my enemies - whom we must
also love. For all players: make your own music for my landing
field, and I'll come in on ya.
In the name of Jesus Christ, I remain your unworthy servant,

Shiloh

P.S.: I found out Dusty is married, so she's not one of us.
Janis Ian could be her replacement, or Missy Manchester, etc.
The angel to pour that vial could be chosen by popular vote of
the fans, as Queen of the Also-rans.
P.P.S. copies of this to Bob Dylan, Rolling Stones, Chicago,
Linda Ronstadt, among others.






















[Copies of this letter to: Olivia Newton-John, Linda Ronstadt,
Stevie Nicks, Madleen Kane, Marianne Faithful, Grace Jones, Judy
Collins, Janis Ian, Aretha Franklin, Melissa Manchester, Emmy Lou
Harris, Catholic Girls, KROQ Radio, and Mr. & Mrs. Paul Crouch]

1523 No. La Brea, #274
Hollywood, Calif. 90028
March 10, 1983

Mr. & Mrs. Paul Crouch, Directors
Trinity Broadcasting Network
P.O. Box A
Santa Ana, Calif. 92711
Phone (714) 832-2950

Dear brother and sister in Christ:
Do you wonder why the L.A. Convention Center was so touched
by the finger of God as to cause 2.5 million dollars damage? I
came to your revival there a year or so ago (Baptist Convention)
and received the Holy Spirit by your ministrations, but you
didn't receive me into the communal Family of God. I was left
alone, on my own again, to face the ravages of Satan. You must
repent of this or Satan will overcome you and kill you, after the
rapture has taken place.
Suffer the little ones to come unto me, on Channel 40. Let
the world watch this gentle pedophile communicate sexually to the
children in a manner the world hasn't ever seen, thought of, or
even imagined the possibility. Is there any who would call the
police to have me stopped? Let him be accursed! Let the chil-
dren grow into adulthood neither marrying nor giving in marriage,
then this 46-year-old fool will grow up with them till the end of
time. The end of time is when the movie of this material world
is over, then we will walk out of the theater into something
else. You don't know what lies outside this consciousness, but I
do. I held the plumbline when Our Father laid the cornerstone of
Jesus Christ. That's why Jesus was a carpenter, taught by gentle
Joseph.
He who wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an
enemy of God. By their works shall you know them. I am with you
always, even to the end of the world. Amen.
In the name of Jesus Christ, I remain your unworthy servant,

Captain Shiloh Morgan
Phone (213) 876-9415
leave message

P.S. Does this idea hurt you? Nurse it along; relax and enjoy it
as best you can. Then you can complain to Christ about how I
raped you - when you see him. There is no way for the poor to go
except by how the rich don't like. So shall the low become high,
and the high become low. I promise to treat the rich better than
I've been treated. Praise God!
I'm great and wonderful! All good things come from my
hands! You must love me, obey me, and serve me as you would
Christ, your husband, within me. When the female reaches out to
me then shall we walk along together, no matter what she looks
like, or how many there are. King David had 100 wives, and
stopped with Bathsheba. Solomon had 300 wives and 1,000 concu-
bines - then he succumbed to the world in idol worship, and died
because of it. I have eternal life in Jesus Christ, with no end
of experiences, knowledge gained from them, and people willing to
share it with me. These neither affirm nor deny the name of
Christ. They just live it.































1523 North La Brea, Suite 274
Hollywood, California 90028
April 1, 1983

Dear Liv,
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, like a prisoner being
made free. That's the secret of getting stoned and playing rock
'n roll!
I'm not thirsty, and nothing hurts. That's good news to a
tired traveler at the end of a long, lonely, dusty road. That's
your papa come back home. This is my house, and I'll live the
way I wish to in it. Praise the Lord with the harp, the timbrel,
and the dance.
The older brother (who was angry that the Prodigal Son came
home and did all these things) died. May God rest his merry old
soul. Santa Claus is dead! Long live King Shiloh!
I had looked to "The Twelve" (Ram Das, Tim Leary, and Chi-
ranjiva among them) as counselors to help wage war wisely. The
lack of communication between us is what turned the Haight-
Ashbury days into a sour note. At the moment, I have many more
counselors. I lost count after forty of them. They move around
so much, like little kids, that it's difficult to make a tally.
We will make Haight Street that much better when we all get
together on it. It seems to me that we can put Haight Street
right back to where it used to be in the Summer of Love, '67, and
then ten times better on top of that, because of new concepts
which they didn't know about then.
A song says, "No one knows what it's like to be the sad man,
the bad man, to be hated, to be fated to telling only lies."
With the Spirit of God upon me, and the power to smash the na-
tions with a rod of iron at my fingertips, (Wow!) nothing could
be better than this - from whence cometh my delusions of gran-
deur. I have nothing else to do but work to bring these delu-
sions (or dreams) into visual reality, by tearing down this world
and building my own world the way I wish it to be. The harder
anyone fought to keep my dreams from coming true, the harder he
will fall when it finally hits him that what I said was true -
unless he repents, and doesn't act that way anymore. Everyone
has sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, or has failed to
do what was righteously called for at the moment; everyone has a
blanket pardon redeemable only by accepting it from me.
There have been times when I could have done something else
other than what I did, as easily as not. In these instances we
can have some cities where these things are done, and other
cities where they are not done - to be replaced with something
else, of course - in order that all concerned may be satisfied in
one way or another.
I'm at the bottom of the shaft in my mine, where it's hot
and dirty, digging for all the gold I can get, and at the same
time piling coals on the heads of my enemies in the boiler room
of my spaceship where the smoke gets in one's eyes, and the stink
is fierce!
You must see my temple where no man can enter to cause me
any trouble. The seven angels who pour their vials upon the
earth may comfort the widows and the orphans by showing them how
much better life is without their daddies around - and it will be
better than that yet, if their daddies have died in Christ, as we
will deliver them safety into Daddy's arms upon the resurrection.
The first order, or law, of this hypnotic state, this king-
dom over which I rule is: What I tell you is secret, shout it
from the rooftops, in movies, songs, magazines, newspaper arti-
cles, and on T.V. This is how the Champions Of The World will
create a new fad to lead people into a new life style, like the
hippies had - only better. I mean, if they see you doing it,
they gotta like it - the same as you have carried this far, they
will go the rest of the way with you, all the way to the end -
which is the jumping-off place into something else. You can't
see, and don't know what the world will be like when we reach
that place, nor what we will be jumping into; that's when the
elements will melt, for the new heavens and the new earth to be
formed. We ourselves will do this, like technicians in a chemi-
cal laboratory. When this happens, the small minds with limited
imaginations will no longer be under our feet. They'll be in
test tubes which you may examine, and their worms will not die.
All I can tell you now is that we are a nation of giants; that is
our spirit, which makes us unstoppable.
The second order is: There will be no more acting shy or
coy. If you girls wanna get fucked, you gotta let a guy know it.
How else is he gonna help you? Of course, you must be careful
not to commit adultery or fornication, as all adulterers and
fornicators - along with thieves, liars, murderers, and the
effeminate - will be cast into the lake of fire. We can do
anything righteously, which your heart desires, if you ask me to
help you with it. To do it unrighteously is what causes the
state of hell in a person's life. Let this old master show you
how to get fucked forever, with it getting better and better all
the time - multiplied by itself.
The way of the lowly hobo, or bum, is the easiest way to
live that any man could choose for himself. The amount of time
one spends doing anything classified as work is negligible, as is
the time one spends caring for and feeding himself. And, given
even a little bit of respect, one feels like a king. Also, this
occupation leaves one with infinitely more time for dreaming,
which is infinitely more pleasurable than doing anything else.
After all, life is only how you feel about it, and as a man
thinks so he is. The only way this could be any better is to
live this way with lots of money, like Howard Hughes is reputed
to have done. There's lots of things I could make more respect-
able, if I had money to work with, if I were paid to be this way
as head of my own church. I put this to you as a wish which has
yet to solidify into physical reality. I also wish to hasten the
day when I may share it with you, that you may know it and do it
as I do. It's like marijuana and LSD; you can't possibly know
what it's like until you try it, and every trip is different than
any other. This differentness constitutes growth of the human
condition. We have different levels of the human condition from
the worst hell to the most sublime state of peace; we have dif-
ferent levels, or ranks, of angels - cherubim, serephim, archan-
gels, and other living creatures - to which men may ascend, and
indeed, are prerequisites for proceeding upward into godhood
which also has different levels, or different states of achieve-
ment - such as the differences between Buddha, Socrates, Mo-
hammed, and Jesus. Buddha was loved by his people, and died a
natural death; both Socrates and Jesus were hated by their re-
spective peoples; Mohammed was violent, and Jesus was nonviolent;
but all (each) of them served a function of the will of God in
the span of time they were allotted, and each is respected for it
in his own way. Mohammed is lowest, or least, and Jesus is
highest of the Sons of God. Each of us who participate in the
First Resurrection will be equal to, and heirs with, Jesus, which
station in life will empower us to do things unimaginable at the
moment. But, as Rick Nelson said in one of his songs, if I were
doing this for a worthless end, I'd rather drive a truck; that'd
be living, moving, seeing different scenery, and meeting differ-
ent people, with none of the hassles of performing. There's a
lot of hassle connected with being a bum too. I like truck
driving as a way of spending time, but being a bum is the only
way I could experience the things so close to people's hearts as
to tell them what they could do better; in other words, being on
the bottom rung of the social ladder, beneath everyone else, is
what put me on top of everything - as per Jesus's promise. This
is seeking after the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and
having everything added to me. If it were not so, then I'd
rather drive a truck - which I might do anyway. I mean, there's
worse things to do than driving you and your equipment around
from place to place. All I need is $900, and a week to learn how
to handle the big rigs. Then we could crisscross this country,
up and down, back and forth, gently leading the fans (our people)
into a higher mode of living heretofore unknown to them. This is
one way of "taking the long way home."
I hope this writing means more to you than meaningless
dribble. To me, in my marijuana-crazed mind, it is very meaning-
ful!
All those in Chiranjiva's family are invited to share our
joy on the trip to Hawaii.
In the name of Jesus Christ, I remain your unworthy servant,

Captain Shiloh Morgan
(the most feared pirate on
the seven seas. Ha-ha!)

P.S. Copies of this go to the Foundation of Revelation, and to
KROQ Radio, among others.

P.P.S.: The experience of my life (related to you within these
pages) is merely to give testimony of another example of how
the stone which our builders rejected has become the chief
cornerstone, as a servant is no greater than his master.

P.P.P.S.: Here's a song you can sing: "On The Road Again!!" I
come down off the freeway entrance ramp against the flow of
traffic coming on, into the city to run around with my peo-
ple all day, and collapse in a cockroach's hole for the
night. We have survived for millions of years the very same
way, and there's nothing that can stop us now.
I wish for a Leo Woman, who's the other half of me! It
hurts so much to be alone, but I'm masochistic enough to en-
joy it, because I don't know any better - until somebody
decides to teach me a lesson about something, and I must
serve him by not doing that anymore until he leaves when
I'll be free once again, by loving my enemies and giving up
my life for the sake of my friends. Praise God! And more
besides that! More wishes, and more women than I can count!
































THE FOUNDATION OF REVELATION, INC.
__________________________________________________________________________
59 Scott Street San Francisco, California 94117 USA Phone: 415 863-4509

April 20,
17th Year Siva Kalpa


Mr. Shiloh Morgan
1523 N. La Brea, #274
Hollywood,
California 90028

Dear Mr. Morgan,

As the rambling and incoherent nature of your letters dated March 3,

April 6 and April 11 of this year, copies of which you have sent to The

Foundation of Revelation, does not bespeak the discipline inherent in the

Armed Services, I must assume your use of the title Captain is a presump-

tion and not rightfully yours to claim.

I am enclosing a copy of The Foundation of Revelation documents,

which please read and reread. At such time as you are able to compose a

brief, typewritten letter identifying yourself and clearly stating when and

where you became acquainted with The Foundation, I will be happy to enter-

tain the possibility of a purposeful correspondence with you. Until such

time please refrain from sending us anything further, as we have neither

the time nor the inclination to be party to your personal desires.

Sincerely yours,



Caroline A. Grey
Secretary-treasurer

encl: The Foundation of Revelation documents

1523 North LaBrea, Suite 274
Los Angeles, California 90028
May 10, 1983

Dear Ms. Grey,
I became acquainted with the Foundation at Christmastime, 1968 when
Ciranjiva, Sheila U.S.A., and Magic Jack, came to one of Jud Presmont's
community dinners at All Saints Church. Magic Jack gave a performance with
his "silence book," then Sheila introduced Ciranjiva as the Father of
heaven, and the Father of us all. Ciranjiva demanded three hours of si-
lence, so he could speak. Of course, three hours of silence were not
forthcoming from such a motley crew of unruly, freedom-seeking hippies as
we were, and Ciranjiva stormed out of the dining hall after someone spoke
out when Ciranjiva was fifteen minutes into his presentation. Sheila and
Magic Jack followed him out the door, whereupon we continued as we were
doing before they came.
From time to time during the next 5 1/2 years, I attended the senate
meetings of the Foundation, which were held every Sunday, at 1:00 P.M.
During these years, I attempted to add my "two-cents' worth" to the pro-
ceedings, which attempts were rejected, something on the order of your
letter dated April 20th -- except that you are the first person within the
Foundation who has ever given me anything which I might do to better suit
you; this is progress. "Better is the end of a thing than the beginning of
it." (Proverbs) So, the outlook is hopeful.
During one of these meetings I attended, I calmly took off my clothes,
and sat nude, waiting for the meeting to start. One of your men, acting as
a bouncer, told me to put my clothes back on, or they'd call the police. I
did as I was told, and waited to speak to Ciranjiva after the meeting, at
which time I asked him why I should not be allowed to do my own thing, as
long as I didn't hurt anyone. He said simply, "It's different. It's not
the same," and turned away from me, offering no other explanation. At the
next meeting, I was told (by someone at the door) that I was to be refused
admission to further meetings for three months, whereupon I shook the dust
of the Foundation, and the dust of San Francisco, off my feet, as Jesus
told his disciples to do when they were not well received.
I left San Francisco in July, 1973, and went to Chicago, to see if we
could change the weather, as intimated in a rock 'n roll song. After
finding nothing in Chicago, I went to Utah, where I spent 3 1/2 years in
prison. Upon being released from prison, I came to L.A., in September,
1977. After six months in L.A., I returned to San Francisco to attempt
communication with the Foundation once more, and had the same success as
before -- none! Then I went to New York City for a month, and then to my
home in Ohio for a couple years. I returned to L.A. in January, 1980, and
have been here since.
In 1968, everyone knew me as, "Chuck," which is a nickname for my
given name of Charles, which means "strong one." In later years, the
people in northern California knew me as, Uncle Albert. After I left them,
they were sorry for causing me any pain, enough to try to make me return,
but not enough to repent of their actions, that I might return to better
circumstances, so I didn't go back. In prison, I was known as, Commander
Cool. A fellow prisoner once asked me what I was commander of. I replied,
"I command the energy that no one else can handle." Being "head honcho"
behind the walls, I walked free and easy through the hallways. All those
who didn't like my trip stayed back out of earshot, on the other side of
the exercise yard, etc. Overcoming all those hardened criminals was no
easy matter, which is another story in itself. The people who liked my
trip, and I, had a grand time, partying every night. I smoked more dope in
prison than ever before. This successful adventure led me to where I am
now, a survivor of the worst hell anyone can imagine. I am alive, and
Ciranjiva is dead, which speaks of the power in me that he didn't have;
that is to say, I won the game of Mind Over Matter, and Ciranjiva is the
loser. Upon learning that Ciranjiva had died, the desire to get my foot in
the Foundation's door (as his replacement) was birthed. I feel that since
Ciranjiva's end came as it did, he was a false prophet, and I'm the true
prophet of God, being that I practice true religion, as stated in James 1:
26,27, that of comforting the widows and the orphans in their affliction,
and of keeping myself unspoted by the world.
About a year ago I took the name, Shiloh Unto Whom The People Shall Be
Gathered, as according to Genesis 49: 10. Two months ago I saw a billboard
stating, "Captain Morgan Lives!" The billboard had a picture of a pirate
standing on a hill, with one foot resting upon a keg of rum, and in the
background was a pirate ship in the harbor. I glommed onto the name,
Captain Morgan, as being myself. I have since found out that Captain
Morgan is a brand of rum.
I'm Captain of my own soul, doing as I please, when I please, and how
I please, which other people seem to be missing out on. I wish to share my
philosophical survivorship with those who are less fortunate, that they may
enjoy it as I do; that is, people need a leader, because it is not in me to
direct his own steps, as stated in the Bible. To this end, I'm desirous of
lessening my rambling incoherency to a bare minimum, as I can see that it
doesn't do anyone any good. I'm sure that any assistance you may (or can)
offer, in this particular regard, will be to our mutual benefit.
Being that self respect is the way to the life of truth, knowledge,
power, and love -- if you will study me (my habits, my ways and means of
surviving in a hostile world, and of keeping myself in a positive, upward,
forward, outward reaching movement -- which is its own delight) then you
will find that I'm not lacking in any form of self respect.
I use Captain as my first name, Shiloh as my middle name, and Morgan
as my last name. Some people call me Captain; some call me Shiloh, but
you may call me anything at all. You don't even know my real name; so,
what are you going to do?
In the name of Jesus Christ, I remain your unworthy servant,

Captain Shiloh Morgan (alias Chuck, Uncle Albert, Commander Cool, The
Fool On The Hill, Bo Jangles -- who danced to jukebox music and talked of
life, Ruby Tuesday -- who changes every day, and Maggie May, who messed up
their beds, and in the morning kicked them in the head)
I'm a woman lost in the song, which accounts for my incoherent ram-
bling stemming from my illimitable forms and forces of human experience,
the fevers of a deliriously hilarious existence groaning under the darkness
of mounting pressures of mechanical wants and needs, and the seeming victo-
ry of the analytical material knowledge of established society, all of
which makes it difficult (but not impossible) to get a handle on what is
known as reality. Nevertheless, I do the best that I am able. What fault
do you find with this?

(copies of this go to Olivia Newton-John, Fleetwood Mac, and Dusty
Street at KROQ Radio Station)

3610 West 6th Street, #833
Los Angeles, California 90020
August 4, 1983

Liv love --
I like that; that's exactly what everyone should do.
"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,"
and "I love to tell the story of Jesus and his love." I have
seen a vision of what was in the beginning, is now, and ever
shall be. I know the experience of life after the end of the
world. I live it now, to the best of my ability, which is the
cross I carry, and suffer at the hands of men, and I refuse to be
afraid of what they might do to me because they don't like it.
What they don't like, or won't believe, is because of the
commandments of men who have been led astray. When the back-
biters, complainers, unbelievers, thieves, liars, murderers,
fornicators, adulterers, and the effeminate have passed away then
I shall be free to enjoy what I suffer for now because of the
imperfection of men. This is "my own thing" I do in the name of
Jesus Christ, because of the truth I know which has made me free
to do it; this is my testimony, of which I'm not ashamed, and
neither will I pull back, nor back down, because that would be a
lack of faith in my calling, and without faith no man can please
God.
On NBC Monitor, either Sept. 26th or Oct 3rd, you'll see me
committed to be the way I am, as I walk alone with God, having
been taught by no man, as St. Paul was not taught, neither was
Jesus, nor the prophets of old.
The thorn in my side is that I do what Jesus said not to do,
and I suffer for it, until I learn not to do it again, by working
out my salvation in fear and trembling, because His grace is
sufficient for me to learn by my mistakes, to create what no man
has ever thought of before, and only those who are blest to see
what you see will know what it is.

[item clipped from newspaper:]
Perry reputedly is obsessed with
pop singer Olivia Newton-John, and
police said he was thwarted in April
when he tried to see Newton-John at
her home in Malibu.

I'm obsessed with you, as is our enemy, Mr. Perry.
Pray for him.
I'll be dropping in on your property when the public
officials I ask are able to tell me where you live. That's the
only thing holding me back. I don't know how Mr. Perry found
out.
Being that you are in the music business, and the Chamber of
Commerce keeps track of businesses, then the Chamber of Commerce
in Malibu should be able to tell me your address. I'll wait
until after my T.V. exposure today, to give time for you to get
this letter, and instruct the Chamber of Commerce people that I
should be privileged with the above information. Depending upon
the time of day when I come, I might ask the police (or county
Sheriff) for your address, and you could let them tell me where
you are, and also the doctor at the medical clinic for whom you
gave a benefit performance.
I'm on fire with God's love. Those who don't know him get
burnt, and they don't enjoy having me around. By their fruit
shall you know them. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and
neither can a bad tree bear good fruit. The dead branches,
having
no fruit, are broken off, and thrown into the fire.
I've been touching females the same as I do my male friends
for only a short while (a month or two) and the difference
between male and female is like night and day, in the reactions
I see. That's why there's no equality for women in the male
world. Men are stronger, and they aren't going to allow women
to mess things up worse than they are now. A man who gives his
heart to a woman and uses his strength to please her has made a
serious mistake, and he's going to lose that girl. When he's
dead I'll comfort her in her widowhood, and his kids will enjoy
how nice it is without Daddy around.

Till then, love,

Shiloh !!!!!

P.S. "Say You'll Be Mine!"

8/12/83
9:50 P.M.
P.P.S.:
A song says something like, "Tell her all about it. Tell
her how you feel. Give her every reason to believe you're real.
Tell her everything you do. She tends to worry, because it's
been so long since you spoke."
Last night (Thursday) I went to an all-night movie, for
$1.50. When the movie closed at 5:00 A.M. this morning I went to
the Transition House, at 6th & Crocker Streets, to wait for sign-
up time at 6:30, and was told to come back Monday (15th) morning.
I'm trying to get a bed there, because they give three meals
a day, etc., and perhaps I could save my money for a motorcycle
that way. I'm no closer towards paying cash for a motorcycle
right now, than I was in January. I've spent every cent I've
gotten so far. If I didn't get ripped-off, then I spent it
foolishly, and had nothing to show for it. I've done better this
month, than I have any time before; that is, I do believe that
this old fool is beginning to learn how to solve these problems.
A song says, "Please, please, tell me now. Is there some-
thing I should know to make you come my way?" The only thing I
can say is, "Make straight the way of the Lord. Help me to find
your house in Malibu, as I have set down here, because I wish I
was there."
Another song says, "I don't know how you do it, making love
out of nothing at all." This comes by doing what Jesus says to
do. If you don't understand the magic, just go through the
motions, and you'll soon learn what makes what.
A song says, "Tell us, General, is it party time? If it is,
can we all come?" Yes, it's party time. I party all day long,
every day. Come one, come all. The more the merrier. Come, buy
wine, milk, and honey without cost or price.
The pain of a caged lion (caged by the laws, rules, regula-
tions, customs, and traditions of civilized society) is unbear-
able, and unspeakable, as he paces back and forth, hoping to ease
the pain, and finds no comfort or relief in the movement, but it
hurts worse to just sit still. He yearns to get back to the
jungle, where he can move freely.
8/13/83 I wanna swing through the trees, and run naked like
a monkey, like Adam in the Garden of Eden before the fall; I
wanna ride with the Indians across the desert and the plains; I
wanna sail the seven seas with the pirates and the Vikings; I
wanna ride with the Hell's Angels, hoping to convert Sonny Barger
into following me instead of continuing on his own way; I wanna
treat my Eskimo friends every bit as nice as they treat me.
There are no other men anywhere who will give you their wives for
the night. They are true friends, and always have been, all by
themselves in the frozen North, for thousands of years without a
written language. The knowledge of life was passed on by word of
mouth, because the sons believed what the fathers said. There
was no generation gap, and a deeper, more meaningful relationship
was achieved. They are the only people on earth who haven't ever
fought any wars.
Song: "I love it when you call me names!" Get in step, you
son of a bitch! Right now, Saturday, I'm sitting (stoned on pot)
in Pershing Square, 5th Street and Hill, where the lowlife drunks
and bums congregate, listening to KROQ, and coughing my head off
- as if I got hold of some paraquat-ladden pot.
I've been thinking of how to uplift the life of a bum, and
make it better for those who come to this state, that the low
should become high, and the high become low, as Jesus has said.
I can't tell you what I'd do. It must be seen to be believed.
You gotta be with me, and watch me do it.
Right now I'm listening to Magic 106. Rod Stewart is sing-
ing, "I know it's gonna last forever." I'm drinking a warm beer,
and smoking a cigarette which I rolled myself. I'm sitting
alone, and nothing is happening, except what I've written here --
yet, my sensual, optic, and hearing nerves are giving me impres-
sions faster than I can relate them. That's why most artists
must suffer before they can become great. Suffering helps one to
focus on a single impression, and do just that.
Now, you are singing, "I'm ready to take all my chances with
you."
Now, the song is, "The joker is the only fool who'll do
anything for you." It's true! How may I serve you? I'll do
anything you ask, at least once; that's why I was an "easy mark"
for anyone with an avaricious heart - until I learned to change
my image, and stop attracting that sort of person to me. That's
why this month is better than any time before.
I just toked up another joint. Now, I'm back on KROQ, and
the song is, "Who do you think you are? leading me on this way?
I can't believe a word you say!" I'm like Rodney Dangerfield. I
can't get any respect. I'm here to separate the sheep and the
goats. The goats are those who treat me worse than anyone else
(violently, to the point of blood). When the goats are ejected
from the fold, and the sheep don't wish to follow them into the
cold, then the sheep's manners will vastly improve, lest the same
fate befall them. Like, I'm the Warden of this three-thousand-
mile-wide prison and I can put you in Solatary so fast it'd make
your head swim, so people must learn to live with me, if they
don't wish to die. They should fear me because I can kill their
bodies and put their souls in hell. I'm the Good Shepherd,
because I don't run when the wolf comes. That's how Jesus Christ
directs me, and KROQ just went wild!
Song: "Nothing is better than this." Yes, there is some-
thing better than this. Proverbs say, "Better is the end of a
thing than the beginning of it." This is just the beginning.
You ain't seen nuthin yet. How do you know what nothing is like?
What you haven't seen (and know nothing about) is far more and
vaster than anything you have seen. This is God's joke on the
world.
2:50 P.M. I'd like a cup of coffee, please. I just watched
a lonely man find fellowship with his brothers. Suffering is
worth the trouble.
3:15 P.M. No coffee now! You've had two cups already today.
If we get to feeling too good, too mellow, etc., then people will
want to join us. Nobody wants to suffer, so suffering is our
protection. It's better for us to remain alone than to get in
with the wrong crowd, as we can't trust anyone but those with
talent - those with creativity, imagination, sensitivity, and the
ability to communicate these things to the audience-at-large.
Rod Stewart singing, "When I fall in love again I know it's
gonna last forever." He has given his heart to several women; he
should learn not to do that again.
5:00 P.M.: Time for another joint. On to the Union Rescue
Mission for supper. Now I'm listening to KFI-AM Stereo. The
batteries are getting weak; FM reception was getting bad, and it
takes less power to run on A.M. The message seems to be the same
on both sides of the street.
5:36 P.M.: The song on the air was, "You're only lonely."
The D.J. said, "Now we know what the problem is." Hooray! I'm
glad you know!
Song: "He's so shy -- and I knew I had to do some breaking
through, etc." I'm shy, but I don't want to let that fact stop
me from getting where I want to go, by not doing what I must do
to accomplish it. If I want the Hell's Angels to follow me, then
I must show them how to treat their mamas, and make them know
that my way is better than anything they're doing now, or have
done, and it's going to get better as I practice it and the road
opens up before me.
During all these hot, August days, I've been sweating pro-
fusely, and I haven't had a bath for 2 or 3 weeks or so. I get a
whiff of myself now and then. It's a strange odor, but it's not
objectionable enough to make me want to change it by taking a
bath. I get a skin condition something like diaper rash now and
then, and that gets bad enough to make me bathe to get rid of it.
I can't remember when was the last time I had it, a long time
ago, anyhow.
I feel contented right now. My belly is full with bean soup
from the mission. I've been stoned all day. I'm about ready to
get stoned again. I'm still coughing my head off, but it doesn't
hurt as badly as it did this morning.
I just met an Indian biker named Buddy, and his mama, in the
parking lot across the street from the mission.
11:03 P.M. I'm beat, wasted. I'm ready to close my eyes
and leave this world behind.

8/14/83

I rolled out my sleeping bag, blew up my air mattress, and
slept in the parking lot with my biker friend. Along towards
morning it started to rain. My biker friend ran for cover, and I
covered myself with my poncho, and slept till 6:30 A.M. when I
got breakfast in the mission, and went back to the parking lot
where I slept until 9:30.
10:49 A.M., Sunday. I've had my cup of coffee for the day,
an argument with the guy at the counter where I got the coffee.
After the coffee, I got stoned, and went to sit in front of the
mission. I shook the dust of the mission off my feet in front of
the security guard when he made me go to the end of the fence. I
walked into the alley between Main & Spring, 2nd & 3rd Sts, and
found a perfect place to sit alone and do my own thing, with a
young Chicano couple across the alley doing the same thing with
themselves.
I've got a dry mouth, after smoking pot. That's good for
playing a harmonica.
Now, I'm lying on my sleeping bag, watching the clouds pass
overhead, listening to KFI, feeling like I'm in the studio where
the music is being made, and a girl is singing, "Baby, I Like
It."
The next song is, "I am a rock. I have no need of friend-
ship, 'cause friendship causes pain." Jesus says, "He who is not
willing to suffer is not worthy of me." So, if you try to avoid
suffering, it's going to happen to you anyhow, wherever you go,
like Jonah and the whale.
I see my face in the clouds, which becomes a runway which my
craft is coming in on.
The song now is: "It's alright once you get past the pain."
I'd like to make a movie called, "Cheech & Chong Meet Shiloh."
4:30 P.M. I slept the day away, and ate supper at the mis-
sion. Now I'll go to the all-night movie, and wait for sign-up
time at the Transition House.
8/15/83, 12:48 P.M. Went to Transition House. They gave us
aspirants breakfast, for the first time. No vacancies. Withdrew
$50 from the bank. Went to 6th Street Box Rental. Found letter
about HUD housing deal.
Listening to the sound that doesn't let me see. Yes, I want
the sound. I want to play with it. I love hitting you with my
rhythm stick, my pen. This is the hand that David Bowie can give
a voice to rule the world. I'll try to remember to work at
keeping my mouth shut, as this is the way for a fool to be con-
sidered wise. But, when I speak I must be forgiven by everyone.
It's very difficult to tell you everything I do. Some
things happen too fast for me to get them down, and there's
different things happening at different levels of consciousness
in different walks of life, or different classes of society.
Mostly, I just observe those who can see me sharing their space
with them.
I like Yvonne Elliman's song, "If I can't have you, I don't
want nobody, baby!" and Irene Cara's "I want to go to heaven! I
want to live forever! Remember my name!" You and these would be
three of the 7 angels. Linda Ronstadt's last song, "It's easy
for you to say," sounds like she doesn't want to play.
I'm going to stop now. This isn't the end. It's merely a
stoppage to allow me to make copies for the appropriate parties,
and mail them, that you may read these words. You can be sure of
more to follow, because no one can stop me.











































SUGGESTED READING

Russell, Gary: "Clammy the Turd"





 
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