I feel like the dark forces are breathing down my neck even as I write-threatening, daring me to write this. My mind wants desperately to write but my body refuses to cooperate, wretched man that I am.

As it was with Kurt Cobain so shall it not be in the end. I believe that his spirit desperately wanted to live but his body wanted out. You might disagree. Yes, folks, the struggle between mind and body is a desperate one. You might feel despair just from reading this.

He wanted out of a world of disillusionment and pain. His tortured mind craved and longed for answers, but we didn't give him any answers.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a Nirvana fan. I listened to his music because I had to. I had to create a base where I could begin to understand him and the countless millions like him out there who so desperately seek answers to life's questions.

What was this young man saying? What was it that pushed him over the edge? Is he hero or anti-hero? Some believe he came, he saw, he conquered, he kicked up a ruckus and he left. Many might follow him.

What was it that was driving him? Hey! Come on, beat the drums slowly here, man. Ask not for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee. Abstract? Maybe, but how many of us have been to the brink of suicide. What was it that saved us? Think. What can we offer to these kids? What, or who, was our guiding light?

What made you change your mind? Maybe you had a glimpse of the afterlife; you know, a little sneak preview of what the real world's like, and maybe it shook you up so much that you just plain turned around and changed your mind. After your little glimpse of the spirit world, no matter how much those dark forces or desperate spirits pushed you, you just wouldn't budge, because you now knew it's no more beautiful there than it is here if you haven't done your homework.

Maybe you're afraid to talk about this. Maybe you want to be "Christian" about the whole matter and pretend that the spirit world doesn't exist, or that it's just some vague shadowy realm that's best left unmentioned? Is it a place filled with just dark, dreary spirits, or is there a brighter side? Why haven't the popular media educated this country and the world about the afterlife? Could it be that they just don't know anything? So maybe there is a more marketable commodity out there waiting to be exploited.

Hollywood has only done a few movies relating to the spirit world, Ghost and Flatliners to name two, and how close to the truth have these been? Who knows more than we about the reality of spirit world? After all, we've had the best Teacher. And we know all about the brighter side of Heaven-not just some vague Shadowland. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Some people are scared of rock music (not that I can blame them, considering that Old Nick himself controls the industry). I was a bit wary of rock music myself; I loved it but I seldom touched it or let myself go, as I wasn't sure where it was coming from. That was until I heard the music of the anointed one.

You've all read or heard stories of how rock music is linked to devil worship. Looking at the lifestyle of some of these rock stars, it wouldn't be difficult to believe this. And let's face it, while you and I know this might not be true, we also know that Satan always tries to move one step ahead of God. He knows the effort God will use to save humanity and he always moves first to utilize this means to achieve his own ends.

We've seen the countless lives claimed one way or the other: Joplin, Hendrix, Elvis and a long list of others. You've heard the tortured lyrics of Freddie Mercury, late of the band Queen. Quote: "I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all." Have you ever felt like that before? Well, it gets to be a little bit like that when you're living on the dark side of the moon.

Have you ever felt like you're losing it? Am I bugging you? Sorry, I don't mean to. Please stick around for the conclusion.

I was rather shocked a few months back when, as I browsed through a copy of The New York Times, I flicked open the arts section and came across the picture of a rock singer. He had a rather Longoesque appearance. In fact, at first glance I was convinced that it was Joe. But alas it wasn't. I was, in fact, the kid from the band Pearl Jam, can't remember his name. I was even more surprised however by the headline, "Rock Finds Religion." Yes, ladies and gentlemen, "they"-the big American media-thinks that rock has gone full circle and come back to its roots. We know many so-called rock stars had their origin in the church. But listen to this. They actually believe that these guys are searching for religion or for God. They quoted, e.g., U2, In the Name of Love and "I still haven't found what I'm looking for." Plus others. Yes, folks. These kids are searching. They're like shooting stars. If they can't find the right constellation to hook up with, then they just fizzle and burn out. I wanted to quote directly some of the artists mentioned but someone threw out the newspaper before I could make notes. Anyway, please believe me.

This isn't a figment of my imagination. Why am I saying all this? Just so that I can ask this question:

While rock searches for answers or for God, who among us will be rock's messiah?

So I finally met this movement. I met the Messiah, the True Parents of Mankind. Then one day I heard a sound, a sound like thunder, like an earthquake, or like when two earths collide. It was awesome, a cosmic vibration of cataclysmic proportions. It was the sound of a thousand gods stampeding across the plains of Heaven. And there and then on the ground floor of 28 Litchfield Street in the video center on a bleak April morn, bleak as it can be, bleak only in England, I experienced rebirth (no pun intended, but can't be helped) for the first time in my life. Yes, pure rock, true rock, the music of the maestro Hyo Jin Moon, and sure enough all the cobwebs were blown out from my mind.

So I recently had a dream, Woodstock II, the sequel to that famous (or infamous) hippie music festival from the '60s.

They came in their hundreds and thousands, all those starry-eyed young people, all searching for the one, and he came and he played and they heard music like nothing they'd ever heard before, and their hearts opened, and like Samson slew a thousand with the jawbone of an ass, he slew them with six guitar strings, for it was once written: music is mightier than the sword.

From within their hearts the darkness flew. In came the light. The one for whom they'd long searched and waited-no longer were they standing on the dark side of the moon.

Alas, I awoke and there came the dreadful thought. Is Woodstock really about peace? Or is it about money? Who's running the show? Is it just a bunch of bigots who wouldn't let us within a mile of the place? Are we still living in the shadow of Vietnam, left with a legacy of fear, fear of the yellow man, unfounded though it may be? If Woodstock is truly about peace and reconciliation, then I would challenge the organizers to have a Korean rock band play up there alongside these other so-called super bands. If this is not just another money-making venture, then let the chips fall where they may, with America breathing down the back of North Korea threatening war. Let us make a stand for true peace. Let us pump a million megawatts of True Love Power through the heart of America.

What if East and West could meet at Woodstock and play their way to reconciliation? Why do we always have to resort to the gun? Is there anyone out there looking for a cause? Have we in the position of John the Baptist been good disciples? Sometimes I feel like slinking off into a hole somewhere. But, hey! All is not lost. After all, this is the time of True Parents and the Completed Testament Age. It's the time of the Blessing and anything is possible. Because the walls are breaking down.

Download entire page and pages related to it in ZIP format
Table of Contents
Copyright Information