the little people look at signs and wonders

Nothing would surprise me now. I fully expect a great weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth to greet me every time I have to slog into the town for supplies. The more the connivers keep on repeating themselves and covering holes in their stories with more holes, the faster the little people are going to figure it all out. All of it. They are going to make connections out of everything from bailouts to Nick Berg to being turned away for an existing condition to cash for clunkers to purple fingers and are going to be having hissy fits right and left. I don't want to look. Visible called it a live slasher film, a fitting description for these times. And it was only recently I asked so full of incredulity, what if evil only becomes more evil? My friends, now we see and whatever we are seeing is still nothing compared to what we will see.
It does not matter that we see. Imagine that? So little concern for the curious onlookers tells a story in itself. Richard Reid was one thing, the latest terror attack is a lesson from Kitty Genovese writ large. The lesson is known as the Bystander Effect:

... There are in fact many reasons why bystanders in groups fail to act in emergency situations, but social psychologists have focused most of their attention on two major factors. According to a basic principle of social influence, bystanders monitor the reactions of other people in an emergency situation to see if others think that it is necessary to intervene. Since everyone is doing exactly the same thing (nothing), they all conclude from the inaction of others that help is not needed. This is an example of pluralistic ignorance or social proof. The other major obstacle to intervention is known as diffusion of responsibility. This occurs when observers all assume that someone else is going to intervene and so each individual feels less responsible and refrains from doing anything...

Of course, we are not talking about the oddity here of the vague young man who clobbered the Manchurian Candidate searching his body for explosives, he acted exactly like he might have acted if he had acted instinctively somewhere else, some other time, searching for extra explosives, no, I mean, would you do that? We are talking on the larger level, the level that takes everything into account and makes columns of disconnections until something connects as it always will. The six degree factor we might call it. This is why its a bad idea to be running into town, milling about, doing nothing in the park but sitting on a bench reading Camu. If you don't want to be in a slasher film, leave now.

Here all these things are taking place at exactly the same moment in time we are standing at the edge of the abyss of climate chaos. What did those emails do but underscore the drastic nature of this situation so that the citizens of the planet are forced to tranch additional fears into the frayed security blanket of peace on Earth, goodwill to men? And was the right thing done, no again. Health reform, who are they kidding? Why do they bother other than to make the illegal legal for themselves, certainly not for you, they do not care about you or what you need to survive. They do not care about your pharmacy bill. They do not care if all the children grow up dirty in an atmosphere of wanton poverty and Migrant Mother despair. They love what they do so much they are blinded to the effect. Every day is a thrill, the razor's edge, Major "King" Kong riding the bomb into oblivion. What they do is not all that different from what they do at the swaps exchanges. The devil is in the moment, not the outcome, not the effected parties, its all about the action, the height of glory some people jones for and are miserable until they are in it, its all there is - and when they get it, its not for you, or me, or any other person in the entire world. It must be the highest drug for the end times that can be imagined because somewhere, there is a little voice inside that says what are you doing? All sentient beings have this little voice. That voice is your voice, not the voice of your self-representative speaking some jive as it is allowed to do so often.

Yemen (rhymes with lemon) joins the massive swell of bloated representative-selves planet wide. Perhaps they are overfond of Chateaubriand and psychedelic dom perignon. If you've ever sat with them in a formal and popular hotel dining room you'd have seen it rolling by the white linen covered tables in a decorated silver trolley with a roll up lid so everyone is supposed to roll their eyes and pretend to drool - oh how gauche. They're loaded with in jokes, its all part of that fabulous high they're under from the arduous day spent on the razor's edge.

And us? How many food stamps does it take to buy 20% fat hamburger? You know they are making a lot of flat patties to supply all the burger joints in all the townships and outburbs and exit ramps and casinos on the reservations ... the cows cannot be pleased. The Creator is not pleased. But the Chateaubriand set doesn't care about them either. When belief is not present, values are absent. Besides, no one is blocking them, they can do as they please.

No one is blocking them because they are going about it, incredibly, tragically, in the opposite direction like two strangers passing in the night on a dark highway at 90 mph in classic Ventura Freeway bumper to bumper traffic, each stranger taking a different exit. Living - this thing called life - our thoughts occupying these bodies - takes up most of our time. There are employments and situations requiring constant monitoring, we barely have time left over to take responsibility for the psychopath's hostile takeover and guilty often that we don't do more. How much responsibility is the crowd taking? You could be someone waiting to see how the crowd handles it, or not. It could be that the little people are exhausted with the monolithic exodus away from their once upon a time-ownership society and get no service from any of the official avenues suggested. A lean holiday makes for a strange day. Strange days make people speculate on what is going on.

There are then some even stranger interpretations based on rumor mill-style hearsay tranched into bundles of undereducated simple-mindedness. Almost funny if it wasn't so sad. Every level of awareness carries its own memes. This should be saying something about the awareness level of our Superiors. Da Vinci Code they are not. Forged letterhead and precious metals? Camu was never read, it sat there on the lah de dah coffeetable like a show trial. They could glance at it for evidence that their intentions were well placed, inhumane, but served a financial purpose.

They are not in my thoughts, sorry, we do not even have to read the body of copy anymore underneath the consumers' headlines, we already know what it will say. Often, there will be just enough unnamed twists that reading these stories is like doing a little wooden puzzle, you know everything goes in its place, you've been there so many times before, and the last one won't fit ... until you turn it upside down. Easy.

More importantly, our thoughts turn to having had the honor of Dadnerd commenting among us in wisdom and grace. He liked my take on his self-portrait. Then comments took another turn, but he'd let me see him in a way that another man would hide. Only tonight going back did I discover he'd altered the work to include my comment, 10 months ago. Surely he did that on purpose, confident I would find it one day. He leveled with us from the start, but he was such a full and total personality focused through integrity that his condition took back burner, the far back burner, until he was forced to recede from us and now he's somewhere else. We must appreciate the company of special people and tell them so when we are in contact with them, not later, and definitely not though a representative-self. It seemed much of Dadnerd's charm was his ability to speak freely from the heart without hesitation or taking it back in self-effacement, but with respect and attention to the subtleties of his friends while making perfect sense.

I find mourning to be selfish. We want the good among us to remain with us, present and accounted for, some of us are easily attached, fundamentally we feel its not fair, we experience loss and all that loss entails. I think instead, when someone leaves they should be celebrated with a festival. There should be a party in the cruise cabin and a glorious send-off. I say Carry on Dadnerd, save me a place in your circle.

It takes a train to cry

What Color is the Train Today ... I read that on Chris Floyd's Empire Burlesque just before reading Zoner's latest blog entry. It goes right along with what I've been thinking lately, namely when you stop educating the population to educate themselves, as in the true intent of real education, this is what you get. You get stupid people and you get freaks that have no behavioral controls. Then you get the nasty enforcers who have to keep the freaks at bay except there are far more freaks than enforcement. You would have to be a certain type of freak to want to have Halloween every day. You'd think they'd fall over with all the techno-weaponry hanging off their trousers. Out of the vehicle.
And that is only the visible tip of the iceberg. The real results of any movement so elaborate it takes years to implement on a global scale are showing now. It is impossible to mark the day or even the era when it began because it has always gone on. There was always an irrational segment of the population that blew off free thinking and acted, physically instead, often in sotto voce, if you were not convinced, stick around and they'd be delighted to convince you. It was never convincing to a person who thought.

Its amazing that we have so many people overpopulating this planet and so few who can think, isn't it? That the Illusion tirelessly works to buoy weak fabrications about what we are experiencing. None of them know the truth? Get real! They must. Some must. Its impossible to miss. The sell out to fascism was a bad move. Imperialism is a bad move. Bailouts and rip offs are bad moves. No one stands in the way? This is hard to believe. There is no difference in sentiment and opinion in the ranks? When everything is fubar, do you continue down the same road to annihilation or do you do an about face? How deep, how low, how high, how far goes the corruption? Are we, at our core, a corrupt species? Or perhaps corruption is contagious. Maybe it is in the food supply?

We are in an irreversible state at this time, a state of endless war brought to you by the econo-ocracy, the direct link to endless freak stupidity. Every exit is sewn up. Every person is in for a skinning, even if you have no skin left. Homeless, bloody, invalidated as human has no skin left. Every level upwards from the squatter's basements adds a layer of epidermis. Even if you live far away from the crowds in another country, you are living on resources that are and will be necessary to keep up the fiction. If not today then tomorrow. There is no end in sight. This was written in the wind that pushed the sails of the slave ships long, long before there was a word for mapping out parcels of land on someone else's continent.

The Trojan Horse has opened his belly exposing the mercenary armies of the freaks. It will continue until we are no more. Afterwords, there will be just them and then ... nothing, but the dust and smoke hanging in the air and bones brittle in the sun. Everything comes from Nature, everything returns to Nature. We are born from nature, we are nature. It is natural then the last war is ultimately a life and death struggle against Nature. Who will win and when? Each side thinks they know the answer, but the evidence on the mental scales of justice shows one side far lighter than the other. I refer you to The Art of Survival, Taoism and the Warring States in the Free Never Overdue Library on the sidebar concerning the victor knowing his enemy. Victory comes from thinking outside the box, i.e.; overstanding or overthinking, zooming out to the bigger picture, never taking for granted what you might find.

weekend brief

I am sorry to report on my web travels today, what is the matter with these people anyway? When are they going to come to their senses. Can it be that corruption on such a scale, even after only brief exposure, is irreversible? The Bu-ad stacked the courts, blew off the DAs who didn't agree with them and now, we live in hologram land. I have always held the weirdest feeling about candidate Greeting Card. It was as if he existed only because we dreamed him up? Have you met him, seen him in person? The vast majority of Americans have not and never will. And this thing about the voter's choice, heh, again, somehow it always comes down to a lesser of two evils and yet, those evils are cut from the same cloth. The old invisible robes ploy again. How dare they put someone in the oval and call him Osama Hussein. Let me lay it on you, that was not a synchronicity. Nor was it a coincidence.

The real-time technology used to make the film Avatar is prime for many applications beyond those of tinseltown. I'm not talking theme parks here. You'd have to have seen the filmmakers demonstrating the creation of characters and landscape, its an instant Photoshop in a sort of tablet camera/monitor that cranks out a semi-animation of what it is filming. The actors can wear what they normally wear, jeans, they just are the models to which Photoshop then applies native dress, colors, exaggerated features and movement. Same with the animals, foliage, a whole planet ... its incredible because the animation is so slight, yes, they do appear as if they are that planet's version of our species. Got it? Good.
It is said the technology was invented specifically for this film. In any brainstorming session, how long does it take for someone to appropriate the concept and share it with potential investors? About as long as a Twitter. This technology may be responsible for more than a few strange situations taking place on Earth. Nothing should surprise us by now.

Certainly you saw the Copenhagen climate talks amounted to a nonbinding resolution to allow China to smog and the Health Bill has been one long boring argument and dilly dallying producing nothing but higher prices even before any executive ink touches paper. Been to your pharmacy lately? Stand forewarned.

We know that Illinois sold a maximum security prison to the Feds. The local rurals are happy, surely it will bring them prosperity. We know 100 - 200 detainees will be transferred to this facility from Guantanamo which isn't being closed because they have plenty more sticking around to order rum punches from their chaise lounges at the Tropicana Banana.

The question was, Cuba was chosen because it was not on US soil therefore the US Constitution did not apply. Obviously, the detainees landing here despite lifer status, will want to see the insides of a courtroom and have a perfect right to do so. It didn't make sense. That is, until this morning. Now the pieces fall into place. 911 was our red alert. Within mere hours the atmosphere went from blue sky to a fog of danger. Everything changed. You have to learn to think like them if you want to anticipate them. Apparently, that is not easy. I'm not sure how one misses what is being laid out so clearly, after all, the pattern is long established by now. If you had reason to enmesh yourself in history and the arts (the eyes and voices) then you would have noted the parallels quickly and reel from all the little suspicions crowding out your worldview.

You know, human beings haven't really changed at all from the Dark Ages. Language evolves as the Alta Report proves so well. Costumes change. Styles go and return in retro. But the darkness was always there, sometimes it reigns like this era, maybe its the last era for real, if it is real. I am not kidding when I say I have my doubts. There is a sort of heebee jeebee torture going on with this chain yanking group of reptiles, a growing pressing down, it is most disturbing. It is hard to pinpoint what is exactly the most disturbing feature, the ones who know better but do it for position and fortune, another form of celebrity, or the ones who are evil beyond redemption, or those in it for secret reasons unfathomable to mere mortals.

count down days

In a certain light
you look like Elvis,
In a certain way,
you remind me of Jesus.
Elvis Costello, the Delivery Man

I haven't told my friends who comment here how much I appreciate them lately. I am saying so now. We gravitate towards those who think like we do and add to the layers of thoughts, taking them further, higher, in another direction, one I might not have thought of or slipped away unmentioned. I appreciate what you say, and each of you say it differently. Interestingly, there is a problem other blogs get sometimes where people who comment say the same thing as said in the original post, juggling it slightly, but a rewording nonetheless. We don't have that problem. Correct me if I am mispeaking. The glue that binds the people who say something here is, as seen in a certain light, the diversity of lifestyle and sense of irony shared. Very cool. The opening subject matter is pretty much the same, subjects of commonality, but the commentary is not. You never know what you're going to get, or who is going to put up a line that takes you into space way out there in billowy thought clouds ... and you leave links, too, ladders to climb, the cyclical concept for which the internet was originally intended. Of course, that's what the Blog List is all about, here anyway, its the Chrome concept where your Favorites are actually stored on your blog's sidebar, not resident on your laptop.

I don't think the Chrome plan is actually the best, it has its drawbacks which you discover when you have a hard drive crash, oops! Suddenly, its Cave Word out there. Ah, hmmmm, perhaps we should restart that old LA Times subscription, oops again, in the mountains? In this economy? Seriously. Not until the WorldX OS sees things our way. I need to hear from them like 20 years ago that the planet has a little climate issue and the easy oil was gone, which I did not. They save these things until is too late. Then they run the patch-up vids, but they waste the effort and expense, reality catches up and along comes Mister Karma.

I could go into some analytical detail about what the Illusion is up to recently, but you would have seen the same things. I'm afraid I'm just too skeptical now to take most of what I see verbatim. I take that back, make that everything I see. There are many brilliant writers around, but each comes from a unique perspective. Ultimately, you must depend on your senses - the vibrations felt by complex vegetable matter.

They never fail to affect. If they do anything well, it is to effect. In addition to the broadbrush effect we are only too familiar with, I do not like to think of them or how they do what they do. The only way out of a negative situation is to change your mental channel to a positive channel, call it healthy diversion if you like, the diversion chosen is the yardstick of your character.

In this chapter we remain concerned with the Apocalypse. How will the incessant revealing of minutiae combined with the surreal resources grab and depletion partnering with climate and economic disparities affect the corn syrup set overall since they are experiencing growing financial and privacy calamities and see the war bills snaking in transit through the system, increasingly hearing one thing but seeing another? The holidays and all its accompanying consumer purchasing statistics will distract for a few months and then reality sets in and then, well, we shall see and make of it what we will. Be honest with all and do no harm. Visible always says Everything is under control. When you are in control of your being then everything else is under control.

the crisis management feature in WorldX

What feature in the WorldX operating system would bring-in such heavies as Mme.All-red and M.Geragos from the media created celebrity defense industry, unfailingly drawn to the scent of money and lots of it? It would be extensive Image Consulting negotiations also known as the reverse of crisis management, we can call it crisis creation and we can call it benefitting from manufactured crisis. For example, what if you had one gig and that's all anybody knew you did, you make a tidy fortune off that one gig, but you saw it was a dead end in the long run, that hanging around on the green with others hanging around in the green wasn't enough when nothing is ever enough, and you had a secret craving for something more, something perhaps narcissistic too, like a book and multi movie deal. In other words, Tiger wants to be an actor. In his circle of green acquaintances and connections in-the-know, easily he would come across those who could arrange a change of career. How successful this would turn out depends on how badly Tiger wants his wish fulfilled, much like selling his soul to the devil. Arrangements would have to be outrageously expensive, its never as easy as it looks, or rather, is made to look, even though most of us would never know or suspect enough to look. The public is predictable, its not hard to take over their attentions with a sex scandal no matter what horrors are occurring elsewhere, anywhere. Yes, even while human beings are dying duct-taped and gagged with rags at Guantanamo, a sex scandal takes precedence over all else as Image Consultants well know, and as Elliot Spitzer came to learn.

I have quoted many times on this blog the age old line sex and money makes the world go round. Oh, you think its war that makes it spin, no, money makes war and war makes money. In this way, money actually trumps sex.

I'm not shocked, just disgusted. It keeps happening, in the space of mere days we had dinnergate crashing right into womanizergate running parallel to climategate. You should ask "Who is behind this?" Certainly, it would be lame to suggest these things just happen. No, it is part of what we have come to expect, there are no accidents. It only appears to the masses as every once in a while some fool actually does something media worthy, always something negative, criminal or scornful, and during the shock and furor small word leaks out about the involvement of a damage consultant on the job, a slide-by detail, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Oh, why there is nothing at all strange about hiring a "public relations" group to push a variance of a story and create an aura that is the opposite of the aura actually surrounding an event. Definitely, that is one of the worst features, and least mentioned to my knowledge anyway, about our current status in lovely WorldX. Have a look for yourself the next time, or this time, something foolish comes to the forefront like balloon boy and morphs and fleshes expansively as it floats through the populations like shake and bake in the water supply.

If crisis managers can change the public perception, why limit that line of work to rerouting a crisis already taking place, why not create crisis on demand? All the tools to do so are already available in their workplace, the connections, the legal teams, and for the right price, plenty of people are willing to participate, eager even to make the cover of the tabloids, to be seen, known, perhaps for them there will be book and movie deals as well?

Not every consulting firm is as good at these projects as some others are, like anything, a mere handful are skilled enough to execute the job flawlessly and others - just not quite as well. I suspect in Tiger's case it won't produce the obviously lavishly expensive results desired, perhaps he should have negotiated with a few others before settling on that one with the loudest mouth and not the best plan. He doesn't really have the "it" factor and no one told him because he was busy being leveraged.

If media did not exist, would these crises take place? If media was not entertainment with consequence, would it be of any interest to anyone? Notice in the Tiger project how many profited financially - and those are just the ones you know about. Look at dinner gate, how do the Solahis rate newsworthiness other than by what has happened since? They may still get their reality show because after all they were just the dimestore players in a larger crisis of greater consequence in which ever-burgeoning security enhancements further buttress the fortress of far bigger fish.

the state of the condition

We often hear about the unquestioned existence of balance in the Universe as if there is an inviolate law over which no mortal has authority, that evil must balance with good. This law, although certified in truth by some very great humans over time, believed and sworn by, is a style of thinking in much the same way a God with beard and robes is going to greet us at the pearly gates if we've been honorable during our visit to planet Earth. I have yet to meet someone who has come back from Heaven to assure me that all was good in that dimension, evil got what was coming to it and the law is indeed real. Have you? This brings me to ask then, in this morass of war and consuming, what if evil only became more evil, if it was never actually countered by overarching good, and the Illusion, including the media, the econo-ocracy, the WorldX operating system, just becomes worse? After Bush, don't you think we deserved Rev. Wright as president to counter the neoconservative occupation, with Sen.Kucinich as the veep? That would have been the righteous balance I'm looking forward to in my dreams ... as in your dreams. Of course, I've met some awfully interesting, incredible people along the journey that I'd like to stack in the Supreme Court as long as we're dreaming.

I'm simultaneously catching bits of a R&R Hall of Fame TV concert and beg your forgiveness if I jump subjects from time to time here. I would not include a famous rocker on the SCOTUS due to the financial factor, not counting Bob Dylan who's talents would be best used as Chief Publicist, actually publicist is a questionable term isn't it, let's say instead Spokesperson in Chief. He does not appear to be in the program I'm watching tonight. The irony is the very people who would be great at running the world don't want the job. They loathe the spotlights. I don't blame them at all. Who would want that job other than someone with an extreme ego-driven agenda?

So there's Bonnie and David Crosby welcoming Jackson Brown to the stage. Why, Jackson seems to be a fan of Grecian Formula! To each his own, but I personally disavow all that stuff. It seems like so much trouble, why would anyone with half-a-brain go to the expense, time and effort for vanity anymore? They do this because they are under an occupation of the representative-self. They allow economically insecure image consultants to design the envelope in the style which statistics tell them brings the greatest amount of money for their area of expertise.

As an exercise, try on for a moment, the experience of someone who is compelled to stand for the better part of an hour or more, perhaps lots more than that, in front of a mirror. Imagine the work area to be stocked with materials for application required to present yourself to others. Easily, it is an even stranger trip for someone who actually knows better or at least suspects better. The problem comes when interacting with someone who has abandoned their self-representative in the spontaneity of the natural self finding themselves contrasted with a clown or a criminal. People do not need 99% of what they think they need. Why disguise? Disguises are meant to deceive, are they not? Are we supposed to think David Crosby went out and bought a Santa Clause mask for the concert? He ages, Jackson Brown stays forever youthful? Does this make any sense?

Yes, its December, we're back in the wintertime of our lives. Sooty and dusty, but free of the gas company drag. Last year we managed the entire cold season on firewood. Since more than half my blog was deleted, posts about this particular survival tactic are no longer available, but it was a success primarily due to the fireteacher's skill in obtaining in a goods for services exchange plenty of long burning Oak. Right away we learned the lesson of running out and spent the summer evenings often repeating the winter system of stockpiling. At this time, the piles are relatively huge and rather obsessively organized according to age and biotype. I had a few debates on this blog about the amount required and the count appearing in a few digitals, and will resolve that debate right now by stating you-can-never-have-enough. The amount we use grows in proportion to the dropping temps. There is a severe weather storm coming in tomorrow and we'll easily have the fire going for a twenty-plus log day. We have a lot, its like counting beans in a jar, there is more than we think, but I often hear the fireteacher worrying. I have already said he's always right. Well, there have been a few times he was not, I'm sure there has been at least one time he was not, if such a thing is possible ...

He has seen quite a bit of evil. Then there are those others of us who saw it too - but did not understand what it was we were seeing. Those were the days. The Before Era when we were still deeply indoctrinated from our training in the Zombie Food Courts, Before Bush, before the Sopranos multiplied exponentially in proportion to the planet's population and realized they might actually get away with their felonious rip of resources underway and expanding. The laws of justice apply here, for every action there is a reaction. Those who harm humanity, ultimately harm themselves. We could say to them, by the way, you do know we are all in this together, don't you? When its all gone, there is no more, not for me and as you will see, not for you either. The Doomsday seedbank is not infinite. You can pipeline the planet in a cocoon and when its run out, its gone, money, blood, heroin or sex will not make more and you will have some nasty, nasty wars as those pipelines trickle the stains of a lost gamble, the Dubai high, the Vegas crapshoot.

Even if everyone at the overlit superboxmarketKmartwal*marts this week is high on salad shooters and clamshells at permanently inflated prices because its somehow cool to blow bread again, did they ever really stop, and even if we are the only ones left who see this as the ultimate in the long manipulation of humanity, it doesn't matter. That karmic balance I started out with is actually taking place, it is merely a gradual process that moves us along from one plane of consciousness to another. As we come to the readjustment of relative time, coming down from the immediacy of self gratification, it only appears slow.

deja vu

Its been a while since Joe Bageant published the Zombie Food Court piece, I would have thought that revelation alone would have changed some of us forever, but it did not. Some of us think such knowledge are just words arranged in a particularly appealing manner, maybe as appealing as Classic Comics, better than the average Mickey Mouse, but just cartoons after all is said and done. Joe's work was followed up, by me anyway, into Arthur Silber's Once Upon a Time blog, I'd liken it to post grad studies for those of us who majored in Zombie Food Courts during the undergrad phase in the Honors section and which head-master Visible rules the entire university, humorously, but indisputably. I can offer but small details, little subvariations on the theme, sociological anthropology I understand its called. Readership has nothing to do with anything after a point, the point being a moment in time where you pause to reflect on everything happening before rejoining your normal life, the one where you do laundry, collect firewood, buy milk at the convenience store gas pump fried chicken stripmall add-on. Sometimes I wish I'd never started blogging, its always there, waiting for more food, an open yaw like a comma in the day. Shall we talk about this week and last? Dinnergate? Tigergate? Huckabeegate? Ohhhhh, Climategate? No, how bout Moretroopsgate? We will not talk about healthgate. I am flat out never in the mood to discuss the health reform bill, why that's just talking trash and we don't want do that now, do we? In fact, there is nothing the Illusion does that is worth talking about unless we're talking real and since there is nothing real about the Illusion, we'd be talking about things that are said to be happening that are the opposite of what is and will be happening. Is there any point in talking about activities that do not exist and never have?

I am far more interested in real things. Then it gets good. Then my ears perk up, finally, we've been waiting for this. Why things are the way they are, our patterns, cycles, how we traverse this journey on this planet in this era. What we do for our survival, the graduating extremes we allow ourselves to experience and how we feel about our experience, that's the hot area. For example, at this stage of the miseducation of the born outcast, at this level of understanding where we admit to knowing nothing, but know something indescribable is taking place, you know things out there are impacting your trip ... severely. You know it is on the increase and you have no idea when it will change for the better or what to do to help that change along. If you are watching others, as we cannot help but do, you are amazed how much punishment they can take and remarkably, the suicide rate is relatively low for these ongoing horrors. Of course, suicide takes many forms, the most common aside from actually jumping off a tall building is substance abuse in which every act and breath is slow death. Another and likely even more common is the fallback into your pattern suicide. This is where one reverts to autopilot behavior learned from childhood success with the method, the one where you infinitely repeat your scenes, good and bad, in different geographies, employments or social situations meaning they are always disguised from the performers as if something new was taking place requiring a brand new solution every time. This is especially common to repeat victims in domestic violence and repeat offenders of crimes, they fail to note the overall picture of their life is unchanging due to a change of costume and the variance in script. When you understand the stakes in the game, you run as fast as possible to the most comfortable outlet, which is your own pattern, its always been there, there must be huge comfort in its familiarity - but none of that is noticed. Not noticing is what keeps the pattern happy. It does not have to deal with any Zombie Food Courts or petty emotional drama. Mostly, its the least embarrassing of all choices because you think its not noticed by anyone and its probably not since everyone else is busy patterning as well.
At some horrible point the pattern is broken and personal change is inevitable. It always happens, no one gets out of here alive. For some of us there are a series of pivotal moments which have the cumulative effect of powerful adjustment and we can see ourselves as we are, at least briefly. If only we had done this, or that, then. Its a very individual thing, the one mind is made up of humans carrying damaged baggage packed with individualized memories. Its only fair to see ourselves as the sum combination of inherited biological traits and anthropogenic experience. Patterns in plots we could say, all of us protagonists and all of us behind the Super 8 working toward that Fellini moment. We won't get there because that is just the pattern working in which the same old solutions are applied to the same old situations that brought you to where you are at this moment in time, typing, puffing, reading bad news, procrastinating on possibility, the broken record going round and round repeating a David Crosby lyric:

...And I feel
Like I've been here before
Feel
Like I've been here before
And you know
It makes me wonder
What's going on...

I'm just going to say this one time, we are already in the predicted disaster. The reason it isn't better known is things appear visually to be the same as always, when you look out there. We mustn't acknowledge disaster because that would incite real civil war the likes of which have never been imagined or exist in any pattern anywhere with this amount of people in this amount of misery. What is of constant amazement to me personally is that we are alive on Earth in this time to see it if we are looking. I want no part of it, just as I want no part of terrorgate, greenshootgate and deficitgate, but we both know peace of mind and tranquility is extremely rare as of late, don't we. One must make the effort, in spite of circumstance, to do something good for oneself and others as often as possible. Its the only thing that works. Trust me, I know.

sex and money from fairy tales

In sheer boredom I visited the news headlines pages today. My, my, one could go right down the list and wisecrack all the way, one after another, the men on goofballs speaking through their press secretaries who send out fat yellow ochre packets of fairy tales to their journalists on the to-do list who are, of course, honored and preening to be included even though they got on the to-do list through perhaps unsavory solicitations? Ah, but what do we know, we're just the little people waiting for the next shoe to drop. A thousand flying shoes could not begin to describe how the little people feel about being seen as fat and stupid, sickly and too expensive to maintain on even the most meager levels. Git outta the way! You owe your very breath to us, how dare you question our beneficence. We'll show you! And they do, with every word, every proposal, every off-topic debate that ends in another crazy bill with executive signatures sending them into reality to become law of the land when necessary as the foundations continue to be laid over previous foundations now buried, dozed and supposed to be forgotten. Maybe if it wasn't strong enough to hold up in these times, it should be forgotten. Maybe if the laws were designed to protect one class over another prepared and presented by that designing class, maybe its time to get the hell out of Dodge. You are on your own, you know, which is precisely the point, like those trashed UK children, thrown out like so many needy mouths.

Back to the morning news cruise, take for example the headline concerning the grand RI bishop of something insisting he didn't say what he said, he said it was suggested a Kennedy not be administered the blood and body in a cup because of the, as you may recall, generally suggested to be somewhat unhinged, on occasion, Kennedy's stand on abortion rights? THESE people, you know exactly who I mean, are they people, in THOSE outfits, with their disturbing reputations really ought to be keeping a lower profile, wouldn't you think? Strange how the list of headlines chooses to highlight certain press releases over others. Heh, we know its more than strange now, don't we. Everything has a reason, turn, turn, turn... speaking of seasons, I am appalled about the climate email hacking, you should be too. How naughty! Do they honestly think any doomers will fall for this one? Here's the thing that is amusing, yes, they do think you will fall for it and many of you are or they would not have gone to the trouble of blaring this news. First you want to say how could this be? To tell you the truth, first we should be questioning hackers. Not just these hackers come-lately, but all the hackers from time immemorial. Please, no teen geeks in basements, these people are ubiquitous. One could get the idea that when a devastating truth that would rock the boats of the little people gets too far along into the streams of acceptance, the hackers are released, set free like a pack of jackals to twist around the heads of the plasma-facing-the-lazyboy set. Are we now supposed to think there is no such thing as desertification? Hard pan? Sea level rise? SMOG? And the Amazon Rain forest is just a playland for frogs, that Iquitos has regrown its rubber and the Wilkins ice bridge did not break? I am exhausted talking about it, we're on our own here, all of us who read headline news this way. We have no support and that is fine, the lame justifications and corrections are always more of the same drama rooted in I am right and You are wrong. It is obvious this planet has too many humans, dogs and cats, in the circumstances under which we currently live. It is obvious it has never been managed properly since before Socrates penned for Plato. How do we know Earth could not have managed to support seven billion and growing by starting out from the side of truth? Instead of always presenting something to be other than what it is, it might well be possible, even in our present, to live without all this weirdness, pain, elbowing for room, yelling above the crowds for recognition, destroying others so that the special ones survive. Then along came the Whites. Mister and Missus White and their special little lord Whites and White-esses in bow ties and clown collars separating themselves from the teeming masses nobody wanted to manage since they were too busy thinking how to present their separation as something other than what it was. The prizes and the favors went only to those who saw things their way. How has this changed at all? What grand strides of human development in civilization have taken place since then?

You can give them truth and they laugh at you. You can give the teeming masses real spirituality and they imitate it because it looks cool, an identity, like a wash-off tattoo, until the next zeitgeist wave rolls in and washes them back out, mingling in kelp, strands of brown bubbles to pop on rocks in their endless boredom to be somebody, to say something meaningful, to experience something, anything other than not being able to get the vaccine or having the beater smogged three times and failing each.

Our monarchs stumble over themselves, screaming plague, screaming deficit, screeching terror, its just so much background noise now, sound and fury signifying nothing. Test, don't test, you can see where this is going if you are paying attention, its going to Palin and Beck people, mark my words. The joke of all this is that it would be so much simpler to be real, speak honestly and do no harm, but that's not how this palace and its outlying G-palaces are run and never have been and never will be. Short of anguished blood war, what does one do when they are outnumbered up against a brick wall? Look at the wall and see what its made of, know the enemy and know yourself. You are all alone in this, as cleverly planned, we leave this place as we arrived, with nothing.

Image: Reubens, Portrait of a Young Man
google images

white bandaids at high tea

Why didn't we know about this? Amazingly, it is yet one more of the many egregious, unspeakably evil things we should have known and surmised: Recall the inbreds from Deliverance, recall any of the X-Files rural farmfreak episodes or how was it contrived for the LA police to substitute a willing boy for a real lost boy in the Changeling, a true rural serial homicide minus Angelina's excellent acting, come to think of it Manifest Destiny's child theft is another twisted version of the tortures applied to the Native American's and of course, we all knew what happened during the forced migration and auctioning of stolen African children, where they went, why they were stolen including such interesting laws as the child born in slavery is legally accorded full slavehood. All of it was bloated with the usual propaganda megaphones, the bottom line being young able-bodied workers and handsome profits for the constitution class with the extra benefit of sexual torture under the penalty of death. The thing that startles us most is this was going on up until 1967. That is not a typo. The British state stole white children as young as three and shipped them to the colonies beginning in the 17th century. The last ones were shipped to Australia in the 60's while America was plowing into Viet Nam and the Hippies were flowering all over the urban jungles of western civilization. The hijacking/forced migration of 150,000 white British children said to be impoverished beggars from unwed and destitute mothers was justified supposedly to supply the colonies with potential white labor. These children it is now known were abused and often made insane, many ending up in institutions. Perhaps little Jane Eyre should have considered herself rather fortunate.

Some children survived to serve their white masters in farm labor. Today, one newsline squeezed between Palin-the-book-author and Afpakspeak appears on our welcome screens worldwide mentioning an apology due these children will be forthcoming. Hey, get real guys, if you have to apologize why did it happen in the first place? None of you were alive in the 60's? You never knew about the Beatles? Twiggy? Speaking of apologies, where are the slaves' reparations?

Its no secret these kids were shipped out of the UK like a trash barge floating somewhere today that nobody wants to see much less dismantle responsibly and ensure it does not happen again. No one in a white wig wanted to budget for these children's welfare, medical, education, nutrition or housing so the most expedient thing to do was just throw them away under a flag of assistance to the colonies - ever maturing white labor. Got that, white labor? Sigh. And the beneficiaries were ... say it: plantations, the ruling/monied/power class and the pampered deviants closeted among them into sex with children.

Once again we are seeing evil, its the time of the Avatar after all. If this much is coming to the forefront, what else is not? It could be anything now. Its gone too far, our expectations - already so low they are nonexistent - are simply unequipped to imagine how much more wanton greed will reign down upon the poor lardites high on white flour, mall shopping with hacked credit. They're well out of it by now anyway, unemployed and uninsured as brain dead and bankrupt merchandise consumer units. Nothing would be too much, too awful, too nasty to erupt. Is this what growing up means, that we must recognize the devil lives among us making the rules and adjust ourselves properly lest that devil pack us off onto the children's trains into the tar sands to frack with our fingers? Or worse? Goodbye to goodness? Goodbye to compassion? Life as a bottomless cesspool kept in check with Paxil? And if that's not affordable ... which it won't be since you'll be required to afford the insurance first ... go to jail during which your children could be observed as perhaps lacking adequate parental supervision ...

Where is the outrage from the family values set? Is there any, maybe not, maybe these revelations strengthen them keeping overpopulation off the table forever.

Timeless mindsets moodsetting the scenery of calamity

Before calling it a night, it is my long standing habit to read. I've mentioned my most recent score of the used literary anthology packed with enlightening material, some of which is often taken from larger bodies of authorship, as is the case with Medieval historian, Barbara Tuchman's chapter from A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous Fourteenth Century (1978). The particular chapter which fell out from the tissued pages onto the blankie was none other than "This Is the End of the World": The Black Death. Somehow, I'm thinking this wasn't a coincidence. Neither is it coincidental Steve Lendman's essay today takes us deeper into the situation unfolding under apparent martial law in Western Ukraine.

"... On November 4, in a nationwide address, Yushchenko cited:

-- an "emergency epidemic situation in the country," caused by "infections of viral origin, including A/H1N1 flu (that are) rapidly spreading across Ukraine;"

-- "People are dying; the epidemic is killing doctors;"

-- "three pathogens of viral infections came to Ukraine at the same time: two of them are seasonal flu and the third is the A/H1N1; according to virologists, such a combination of infections due to mutation may produce a new, even more aggressive virus;" ... "

As always, our vain question remains, can it happen here? As with good and evil being the two faces of one overarching force, the question has two answers. No, we are too fluid, diverse, practically lawless in certain regions, separate units of thought and geography, loathe to mingle, loathe to trust. Or, Yessiree, we are easy to find, track, document, label and our needs have made us known, the system exists because of us.

Adding to the mix, important input is provided from genuine voices of real science, past and present, offering another timely glimpse into cause thanks to Rick's extremely interesting presentation, Our Evolving Solar System: Plasma, Polar Reversals, and 2012 which considers the very real possibility of activities within the Universe beyond our control as creation of numerous Earth calamities throughout all history, recorded and discovered.

Again, here is the link to Tuchman's Chapter 15. It continues into the next chapter which is optional since my anthology closed the work at the end of the first full paragraph on the google page 105, equal to a mere 12 pages in my little anthology. Its enough to get us going making connections as we will.

Consider this required reading. Test tomorrow - Not. The previous and unknown owner of the anthology made notes in the margin. Obviously "he", male handwriting, would be tested. "Test, many questions", he wrote. "Inhumanity caused by fear" and "Neighbors preying on less fortunate" are other scribbles along with "Generally, people blamed God", "Doing penitence to chase away disease" and "Plague because of sin" with a final note at the closing "People so feared the Plague they did not record events."

I would have suggested to "him" we honor Barbara Tuchman's tireless perseverance in the face of enormous obstacles, especially those she notes in her introduction to The Distant Mirror ... , "uncertain and contradictory data with regard to dates, numbers and hard facts ... the changing prejudices and points of view of past historians ... the disproportionate survival of the bad side, producing an overload of the negative ... the difficulty of empathy, genuinely entering into the mental and emotional values of the Middle Ages"...

Still, western capitalistic citizens remain as Aborigines post-walkabout grouped under low flying planes dropping CARE packages, seeing God.

WorldX: New Features & Apps

Dear Friends of WorldX:

We recognize most of you have been using outdated operating systems from birth. In order to continue to bring you the more magnificent life product you desire, we have taken the next step in service evolution. Some of you may have already recognized dramatic improvement during the beta testing phase and it is from these test results we proudly present previously only-dreamed-of features for all our Planet's populations.

If it can be dreamed, it can be yours.

Downloads are available now. In the event you experience difficulty, we provide 24 hour support online at our website, newworldorderOS.com, currently under construction. Please have your credit cards and personal data available when placing your orders. Due to high demand, we are experiencing a backlog and request your patience. Some orders may be delayed twenty years or more.

Should you prefer an alternate, but compatible program under which to operate, our support team may be able to suggest additional add-on applications to the basic New World Order Operating System. We caution you to limit the amount of your additional applications to preserve bandwidth allowing for optimum performance of the basic programs.

A frequently asked question is How Much Will This Cost? The good news is VERY LITTLE! We have a Public Option payment program for qualified individuals, just ask your support representative when you place your order. Taxes and shipping are extra and vary depending upon your location.

The WorldX family is confident that once you have experienced the new edition New World Order OS upgrade, you will never be satisfied with anything less again. In fact, to ensure you experience the full quality of life, everything that ever existed previous to this moment is being erased and deleted from your memory as you read.

We look forward to servicing you, our consumer base, and anticipate your complete happiness.

Sincerely,

The WorldX Family
Consumer Products Division
Marketing & Public Relations

If it can be dreamed, it can be yours.

* * * * * * * * *

Dear Friends of WorldX:

It has recently come to our attention that some of our customers are not completely satisfied with our latest product, the New World Order OS upgrade. We sincerely regret the inconvenience and will soon offer patches at discounted rates, taxes and shipping vary with location, to all product purchasing populations experiencing ubiquitous frustration, starvation or obesity, plagues, weather-related issues, excruciating poverty and round-the-clock, year-round resource consolidation conflicts involved with managing the recent upgrade. Please bear with us during these "birth pangs" of product evolution and refrain from taking unauthorized action of any sort unless you have received specific instructions from our support personnel. At this time, our help staff are backlogged approximately thirty years or more. You are encouraged to leave a comment on our website at newworldorderOS.com.

Thank you for your patience.

Sincerely,
The WorldX Family
Crisis Management Division
Image Consulting & Waste Control

If it can be dreamed, it can be yours.

Studio 54 closed

Just when I was going to post about how useless internet surfing is, Charles happened to post about a website he's found where they are apparently horridly honest. I haven't visited yet, the day is young. However, just knowing about it means we're saved again. Saved from throwing our laptops into the fireplace or the dumpster, whichever is handiest. We can go on posting for a few more days until the big questions return. And questionable it is my friends, don't scoff too quickly.

We've been over this many times, even now it glares from my archives. Before actually getting out of bed this morning, it came to me in predawn, post dream clarity that Visible is right, it is all in our minds. This world, this life, we've dreamed and created and maintain as if we are clubbing at Studio 54. Today, we are in these places, tonight, other places, tomorrow, who knows? And yet, deep down, under the gloss, we know something is wrong, something doesn't make sense. What do we do when something in life does not make sense? Like all good western citizens, we ignore it and continue to do what we always do, confident it will eventually make sense. This method of dealing with a created reality is built into the fabric of our very lives.

This is how our nations handle everything. You can read four headlines on your welcome pages, each one contradicting the next. House prices are up. House prices are down. Employment is up, unemployment is skyrocketing. Recession over. Crisis worsening, we're in the eye of the hurricane between subprime and ARM, or is it CRE today?

Now you ask, is this making any sense? No. Do addictions make sense? No, again. We'd like to know the point, but the point is loathe to be acknowledged. We don't want to kill off our species, so we ignore our overpopulation crisis and the accompanying rise of overmarketing and overwarring, all which denies our prolife vision, a vision not from any religious beliefs or desire for financial gain, but simply from the natural right to life entitled all species. We live, therefore others too must live. There is no secret to the equality of life. That is not an ideology, it is sensory knowledge, Life IS sacred because we live.

All that is wrong, that down deep under the gloss wrong, is wrong because it was never right on a small scale. On a larger scale growing larger, the monster is untouchable. We are doomed because we ignore it. But ignore it we will because this is how we handle everything. I wouldn't exactly call our situation western procrastination as much as a circular void of solution where everything positive is countered by a negative. When a one-fits-all answer is not available, we do nothing. Scanning over the past decade, we have done nothing. We have taken cover online and the issues we discuss worsen. What happens when there is no more web? You don't really know yet, do you. Trust in the way our planet has rotated lately and that will give you some vague idea.

Never again will we have normalcy because what appeared as normal was just another phase of the dream that twists and turns incessantly as dreams will. Glancing at what we know of the other regions on our planet, many have never known what we think of as normal. Western civilization might as well be on another planet for all the lack of similarity in thought and lifestyle. But westerners time for domination is over. Every day our schizophrenia is more apparent along with citizens' Alzheimer's. We go back and forth while going nowhere.

I discovered a used bookstore a while back and purchased a college literature anthology for a dollar. Pre-owned literature is castaway cheap I thought, leafing through tissue thin pages packed with the meaning of life from hundreds of articulate voices, many still living. There I found redemption, a confirmation in print we've always known truth, but choose to ignore it. In this most recent go-around, we blew it with religion. We sent out missionaries to denigrate all not living in our western imperialistic shadow and stole their free will while deifying the corrupt and the mundane. In a nutshell, it is the hijacking of free will that is the bitter root of our destruction. Our worst failing was an abject failure to see all living species as One naturally occurring and naturally maintaining gift born from Mother Earth, perfectly balanced in the Universe to exist and flow with all heavenly bodies and we blew it big time.

The debate today is not whether we will escape judgment day, but will there be another go-around? My vote goes into the yes basket, but next time humans will be left out of the mix. The part of the plan allowing guardians for the species didn't work. The deified corrupt and mundane thought they were capable of more. The citizens don't get along, they overpopulate and steal free will from everyone and everything else. They lie to hide their agenda until it can no longer be hidden. They've become confused and unnecessary, rampaging though the rotten fruits of their labor, trampling the sacred, valuing nothing, having lost all sense of purpose.

After the slate is wiped clean, perhaps archaeologists of the future, if they exist, will uncover our used literary anthologies and see where we went wrong. Inshalla, God willing, they do not ignore our mistake.

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

THE SECOND COMING

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

conceits of the starfish

All these people that you mention Yes, I know them, they're quite lame I had to rearrange their faces And give them all another name ...
Bob Dylan, Desolation Row

This week has not been your typical turbulent week, rather it is a week of disturbing revelations where we've been forced to acknowledge there will be no new story of a better world quite as quickly as it seemed during last week's typical turbulence. Why is this you might ask?

As far as I can tell we remain duped and divided. Are you aware of the inane categorization taking place among seemingly truth friendly luminaries? Even the highest echelons of reality philosophy appear to suffer from this dis-ease of categorization - which is just another word for denial. I won't repeat all of the dialogues here, they are illogical. You'd almost miss it if you concentrate solely on the marvelous literary qualities arranging facts, you could be encouraged to go along by the brilliance of metaphor and poetic genius, line after line with words you have to look up to absorb the entire radiance of such cohesive content. Until, one day, you see a sentence or two that wipes the whole charade off the face of the map.

... believers in some sort of apocalypse, etc., all rejected. So disappointing. People who can't understand the science and can't observe for themselves shouldn't waste their time here...

There are a more than a few similar culls going around lately, it is the season of the witch after all. You'd better watch it out there, my friends, they don't like us, they don't think like us, they strongly reject us in fact, and they have esurient agendae among their fraternity that becomes obvious when you finally recognize what it is you are seeing. Dare you challenge them unless you want to hear somebody tell you your presence is ignorant and alarmist. Now, its okay to have an agenda. We'll call an agenda a point of view in the altruism of sharing information. However, in the search for factual and authentic information on the websites in discussion, you could easily ignore the profit agenda while enjoying the scenery. Only when you reread that confusing sentence or two do the alarms go off. Who are they trying to impress? Potential and existing clientele, ah, the smart blog as a sales tool, toned down so you won't notice those hands rifling through your pockets?

A satisfactory portion of what is served by these fraternal heroes of the liquid crystal display is actually nutritious. Maybe this is a commonality shared among many venues, in any anonymous interaction, like a thoughtfully prepared prix fixe meal in an urbane organic restaurant with aspartame powder visible on the dessert? You got something good, but you noticed they really didn't go all the way. You wondered why, if the time was taken to do one part of it properly, what happened at the finish line?

Afterwards, leaving the scene, you'll realize we've got a long way to go. That realization brings on multiple questions concerning denial and hypocrisy. You know you are for real, we have long abandoned our representative selves by now, so you wonder why these others who appeared to be on the same journey suddenly slam on the brakes. This can only be they have not suffered enough yet, especially tragic when they write so skillfully about suffering ... chaos, nature, politics and the dollar. They are not stupid people, they know what they do, they have compromised at our expense. How quickly would they open their minds if you bought their books?

Certainly it explains why we as a civilization remain fubar. No one wants to step forth, even while calling for transparency, they deny the root issues that keep us enslaved inside The Trap. Perhaps the trap is designed with cubbies just for these people's preaching? Oh, it helps pass the time, keeps you pretty occupied, you could even become a Groupie of the Cubby if you were so inclined, but you are not. We're still at the doorway looking out discerning between a hustle and the truth. ''Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive''. You think they have any idea they are deceptive? No, nor is there any thought given to tangled webs.

There is so little left to believe, its more direct to just quit believing and go by your own golden rule of intuition. Spirituality is the key, a void of spirit tells us all we ought to know. You do not have to be a disciple of any religion, you do not have to be anything other than true to yourself. All answers spring from the Creator within. You have to listen with undivided attention to understand. The real work is in the application.

Until we as a united body of humanity relentlessly apply the test of spiritual intuition a.k.a. humilty, compassion, grace, we will struggle indefinitely. At some point, sooner rather than later, rising sea levels will intervene and our immediate struggle will change dramatically. Denial decoupled from self-interest reveals the futility of any motive other than the motive of sheer physical survival. The information is there, hand in hand with the denigration of the information. Denigration is rooted in fear of loss for one's station in life, self-righteous selfishness, material protectiveness, desire for flattery and greater economic achievement. We've seen it over and over and we see through it.

The little people are very accepting. They would never think to suspect motive before jumping in with both feet, heart and mind. How much of the civilized world operates on that principle? I'm thinking easily 95% of humanity does this without hesitation and no matter how much evil reigns down upon the populations, most people always will. The remaining 5% are simply careless. They will come to find their compromises adrift, while desperately clinging to a capsized hull, in a dry hurricane that breached the glittering coastlines with no warning. Salvation wouldn't be available since similar emergencies will be unfolding simultaneously, past peak, in the coming diaspora, the fraternity, the conceits and the compromises worthless on the ocean's floor.

come together

Many things are falling into place, it appears sudden, but when you lay out the bits and pieces you'll see there is a pattern which gives meaning to it all.

First you'll want to examine how things are going for you personally at this time, take the past into consideration and some of those sharp memories of your childhood. Put that stuff into a manila file folder and label it Done.

Then read this. It is important. I'll wait while you digest the material. Go on, do it now. I'm not going anywhere and if you had the time to visit today, you have the time to read the links. I am on pause until you come back because this is part one of a two part story, the New Story. Our personal Year Zero.

Welcome back. The Done folder goes into the circular file. You know, we've been wasting a lot of time, although it appeared our time was purposeful, it did not actually get us where we really want to be. It occurred to me recently the huge body of outrage resulting directly from our stupid situation, our limp fury and bandaged heads from all the beatings against concrete walls, had an almost indescribable momentum AS IF IT WAS DESIGNED. Designed to be impossible to remove. What are walls meant for anyway? In the old story, walls worked. In the new story, there are no walls. We couldn't help it because we were born into it and it takes a train to cry. That's a good stage BTW, at least it opens the heart. After dwelling in that stage long enough, you know you must move on, you'll get a headache from the heartache. It seems that just about everyone born into the western gravitational system needs a lifetime to figure out how to get those Manhattan telephone books off their feet. Until you just remove them by yourself, going from one step to the next is unbearably difficult because those phone books are the pages of our past, our ancestors and their Karma, but remove them and all of that stops. It stops with you. You are at the end of that story here and now. Its over.

Everything feels better, brighter, more real, as it should be and as you always knew it was meant to be. The windows are open and the crispy season of turning leaves brushes against your face. You could almost fly. It doesn't matter what criticisms lie in wait, they have no meaning anymore, the Complaints Ledger went out with the Done folder. Could it get any better than this?

Yes, it can. There is a stunning coda to the new story. Just when you made the greatest breakthrough of your life, no phonebooks, no complaints, there was a very small and silent part of you that still longed ... the part that says "but what about?"

Now read this.

We could just stop here and live happily ever after. No more blogging required. Except, I like blogging, besides, I like art, too. Mostly, I like to see where these ideas lead and best of all, what other people do with them. In our new story, everyone is exploring their potential, it never stops, where one starts another takes it higher. To hell with copyrights, to hell with the selfishness of me-isms and mines. We WANT our ideas expanded otherwise they die, contracted, against all reason, which is exactly backwards from our natural intent.

If you read the links before you visited, we are on the same wavelength already and traveling together in light years. If you are just reading them now, there is no time like the present. The hologram is gone, the prison bars melted, the door of the trap was sprung wide open. Take it easy, the only thing holding us back today is language, our thoughts move faster than words - and words, geeze, they're backwards too.

I've been trying to compose snail mail letters to a friend in rehab. You can't imagine how difficult it is to convey meaning by hand, my handwriting races into the margins now. I've been trying to explain our new story, you can't link in paper letters, heh, and I imagine she won't be allowed to have those letters until she leaves. I want to tell her drugs have nothing on the truth, but that has to wait for a few more weeks when her real crisis begins. All of our crises are the storm clouds under which the play of civilization unfolds. Our protest acts as lightening followed by the rains, the floods, tsunamis of unrest and devastation. Our illnesses and discontents never had to be. Our guilt was rooted in singularity, thinking we were alone, or special, or separate, or smarter, or more adept or thwarted or unrecognized somehow and slighted, misunderstood, under-represented, without free will, enslaved and mysteriously used against our better judgement, ie; forced and coerced unnaturally. Our collective materialism was the buffer and it failed miserably in our hour of need. Each failure reinforced another and another until we found ourselves virtually helpless, lost in a vast universe of illegitimacy. You have to just shake your head in grief, how long has it been anyway, that you felt really, really good?

Well, let's go then, into the new story and get it on. Erase those hated words, rush and urgent, deadline, harsh, rehab, mainstream, zeitgeist, statistics, etc. Surely you'll have your own list of prehistoric nonsense you've used repeatedly to be in the "know". In the new story, we know nothing and everything at the same time, call it a speedball state of existence if you must, a state of union with the All where what IS completely extincts what WAS.

when winning is losing

Our good friend, Charles, the bloggin' rockstar, reminded us this morning just who won the Nobel Peace Prize. Thank you Charles, the irony was not lost.

"What can we say about Obama's Peace Prize? A slap in the face of "bring it on? ..."

That Peace Prize screams consolation. Of course it must have been known for awhile the perceived innocent community organizer, virginal and charismatic on the world scene, was a contender. How clever to bestow such an honor on an individual rather than rewarding the St. Valentine's regenerating degenerates. The bobblehead emptiness of his winning pearly whites is recognized - as in a Miss America pageant, but his handlers are welcome nowhere. If you think this was all planned to the nth degree, I'm on your side, candidate submissions closed February 1, 2009, after receiving 200 submissions. Was there ever a more transparent see-saw plot?

Indeed, a scorn slap in the face to the Pulp Fiction overdosed, the drunks crying tomorrow ... "Hurry up with that adrenalin injection! Damnit, throw em in a cold shower fer crysakes!" What else do we do to bring em around? Ah yes, the Prize ...

They don't want our dollars or our bailouts either, BTW, two rather fundamental, but too crass to mention, reasons to immortalize the lone individual, although they are forced to rely on them at the moment.
Everybody know what happens when you walk away from the Monopoly table. Those nice people you were so recently playing with grab everything and you are denounced, sour graped, whatever you said is mistranslated into dangerous accusations of the spoil sport who's probably gonna rat them out. How this will work when the basket of currencies is realized is yet to be known. I trust we'll be sending letters by carrier pidgeon from our bicycles which is OK with me. We'll have a lot more time to meditate anyway. That is, if we don't turn ourselves inside out and underwater in all hell breaking loose inflation wars.

The more fabrications covering truth, the more convoluted it grows, the more wars without end fomented (hated word) to revise failure fabricated into illusory successes. Especially multi-front failures, municipal, county, state, regional, nation, continental and the allied nations under the NWO. Everybody has a pony in the ring.

It has such a familiar feeling to it, doesn't it? Are you racking your brain yet? At its most basic, as Visible noted yesterday:

"... Politics is a world of strange contradictions. That’s how you can be both a pimp and a whore at the same time and have it make perfect sense..."

Nobody will back down because they can no longer tell the difference between fantasy and reality, if they ever could, a situation vastly worsened by the calculated mandates they themselves sealed in stone which to this day still supercede through dogged persistence and brutal enforcement. This is 4th Generation Warfare at its most insane, forget the technology, we're looking at crisis management carpetbagging under multiple realities - actually an extremely common psychological mechanism many ordinary people unconsciously perform to keep themselves from achievemnt and thus, get by for entire lifetimes continuing through generations with the assistance of crutches - "I can't do this because of that" and "I can't do that because of this".

I bet Charles does a mean Little Wing.

Once upon a time, my father took a swat at me and missed, but broke my finger. I had to wear a cast and sling for six weeks. It was at the same time Little Wing was popular on late night FM. It fit so well. My friends and I went to a drive-in movie, it started pouring and we left. We were in the heavy hallucination stage by then, the windshield and windows were a mass of breathing colored exploding lights. At last, Little Wing came on the car radio and there I was, my little wing broken, we drove on. It seemed forever, entire chapters of civilization defined by the swish swish of the windsheild wipers. It has never been disproven I might be writing this from Heaven.

notebook of a revolutionary jaded

Here we go into Winter. Again. One day it was too hot and today we're sliding down the thermometer - overnight. I am disturbed the Juncos have not shown up, I record their arrival annually and they are weeks overdue. They are my control group for Climate change. Meanwhile, the war drums are growing loud enough for silencer earphones, some sentinel warning siren grinds into the Eustachian tubes burrowing into the deep mind so we are never really settled, always on the brink of disaster somewhere, maybe here, maybe not. If you live in Nevada you would know the drone of Predators send you to sleep, wake you before sunrise, you would have seen the glazed eyes skilled in war games hanging out in the casino, feeding the paycheck into the slots as if ... as if it were all about the joystick. Do you think victims of joystick mania have any idea what is really happening when the drones start humming?

We were driving through a tight canyon sandwiched between semis when a couple of F22's took a detour overhead, low buzzing the lanes. By the time we gathered words of exclamation, they were gone. In that brief second, we were shown how fast death clears the landscape ... maybe families were gathering water, hanging laundry, an ordinary day, a vanilla sky and then nothing.

What accident of birth has us reading here today while Indonesia is swamped? Isn't this a question that has no answer? The western world demands answers for everything, flirting into WW3 where they have yet to understand some people and places will never be understood. The best we can do is observe the irony.

There are some words I detest. My grammar school principal used to close the day over a cloth-covered loudspeaker beamed into each classroom. She had a sense of humor that even 5th graders got. "Wagons Ho" meant the busses arrived. Her most hated word was Harsh. We loved her for that since everyone easily identified with a subconscious harsh reality even if we didn't understand it. My hated word is Urgent. Thus when I see the western world claim urgent action is "required" (also hated) against Iran, my skin crawls. When I see people encouraging one another into WW3, I know they really don't know, they have not been there, they are mouthing opinion without a basis in reality. They have never whispered inside a mosque in Isfahan and listened to their whisper bounce off a trillion tiny pieces of gleaming colored clay set perfectly in place centuries before a western world existed.

I read the small details in news stories, the minimized denial that what you are seeing is not what you see. You could actually read, digest and miss those details, put there for balance, "required" you might say. Those details are the sirens going off, we'd like to make it stop, it hurts, it grinds. Three months it warns and you can't blame us this time. Sounds like we'll make war for Christmas. It can and does happen just like that. Everyone remembers waking up to the nightlights, bombs bursting in air over Iraq.

By an accident of birth, winter finds us continuing our standoff with propane heat delivery, the fatted, gloating truck rolling up and down hairpin turns servicing the underemployed, out of credit, out of luck who convince themselves life is hell on Earth and there is no other way especially when the easy way stares them down. Livity asks we remove our personal survival from pipelineistan. We're ready all but for the chimney cap going into place this week. The primary woodpile is huge with extra piles scattered wherever there is room. The Fireteacher lives up to his name and I am cast in the role of carrier, all-weather assistance, snow, sleet and hail. Out comes the wheelbarrow, on comes the rain, then drizzle, then flakes fall and we are transformed into a fairytale. Today's soliloquy wraps with the last line from The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock: ... Till human voices wake us and we drown.

war and shelf life

It used to be a mystery. That there was a sea change underway was certain, but we were hard pressed to narrow it down and define it as we were experiencing it. When exactly did it start, who was responsible, how long would it last? If we tried to explain this to other people, we got funny looks "what exactly are you saying?" That was then.

This is now. Almost a decade later, or is it milleniums, and nothing has reversed the course of madness. The welcome screens are overflowing with contrary headlines we won't quote on blogs anymore in order to budget for food. Something about Obama wants summer breaks in the school year abolished. What was that about no stone left unturned ... or something about an ownership society?

Uh hunh. And where do you think the money to make real the recovery story will come from, because the people are going to get the idea pretty soon a jobless recovery is a little shaky? How about from this comment written by a JSmith:

...The object is to destroy Iran's industrial and civil infrastructure, shatter its economy, destroy any self-defense capability, poison its environment, assassinate its scientists and engineers, and subvert its political system; i.e., to create a failed state incapable of exerting any influence in the region...

Let's consider in carrying out the above, how vastly the endeavor enriches the already obesely rewarded carpetbaggers salivating at the prospects of another boom. Let us no more eye pop at those reports of the oil giants' record profits. Bubbles and booms are the age old survival choice of leading western nations. What do they know that you don't? They know big, big money soon fill the piggy bank again. Right on schedule covering for the recovery story. This is how they do the Foxtrot, step kick, step kick, back step and repeat.

We used to think we were not supposed to know things. We supposed what we saw of the come lately leadership was some awful deviation from a norm and came to find it is the norm. We used to think they cared how they appeared and cared about their oaths and offices and the global reputation of a reputed global ideal. All that aid going to impoverished nations, remember collecting items for your Care Box? The toothbrush and toothpaste tucked inside, you were certain someone, somewhere depended on your gift? We were raised to love the world. Some of us still do.

You know what is coming next. I can't stand to see it. We know what has happened to Iraq. We know Mesopotamia was jackbooted off the pages of history. We know the noose awaits. We know there will be many assisting and cheering it along and the blood money will flow as the blood flowed in the gutters in Jenin.

In addition to the anguish and sadness this brings on when they Bring it On, the secret question lingers, when are these victims going to have had enough? Retaliate? Oh, never! No one retaliates against superpowers, are you kidding? Not with this air power, this technology, not with the cohesive, coordinated back-up super powers of our friends and allies. That's suicide. Whatz a matter with you?

The victims are erased and converted before retaliation. When you can wipe the rest of world off the face of the map, there isn't anybody left to argue.

We have known this chapter was coming since Condoleeza received a written response from Mahmoud and soundly denounced it. The translation was pure poetry. For whatever political copywriters that may have assisted him, it read as the writings of a well intentioned, wrongly accused, humble scholar. You cannot help but get the idea that is who he is - absent the propaganda. Westerners have difficulty listening to him speak because he speaks thoughtfully and softly. We must have missed the part about babies on the floor and gassing his people. Who is being groomed to replace him? Have roles been promised to relatives of his successor the same way Ahmed Chalabi's nephew, sharing the same office floor as arch-neocon palm-greasers Feith and Zell, was contracted for $75 million to arrange Saddam's trial?

After all is said and done and the dead are laid to rest, Gitmo will remain open for business, the same ancient business of the stretching rack, under the repackaged product line. The boxed convenience of prepared mixes under a sparkling new theme, Organic Carpetbagging, it sells so well. Down the road apiece, the masses online in front of the tube lose interest, max out their credit and go into depression and the whole joint comes unhinged. Then the music changes, everybody moves out to the dance floor and the Foxtrot repeats like a broken needle on a scratched '78. Step kick, backstep.

The only mystery that remains is the oldest mystery of all. Is there really such thing as the devil? Our ancestors thought so. They burned people at the stake and are striking the match all over again. Time - seconds, years, centuries - is just a hologram.

Sluggo's Dust

..Rat race! Oh, it's a disgrace, To see the human-race, In a rat race, rat race!... Robert Nesta Marley from the album Rastaman Vibration

When was the last time, if ever, you came across one word that typifies your entire existence, everything you stand for or against and captures your entire life's philosophy? The word I am referring to is Livity. Live-ity. The art of living in support of all life. Our friend Ras turey brought this to my attention yesterday saying he subscribes only to having been called into the service of Livity. He has dedicated himself, I, too.

That one six letter word is the antithesis of everything that presently stands in the way of just living. It acknowledges, it honors and respects the natural right to survival of all living species without interference and exploitation.

In contrast, while you read this, in Pittsburgh we have what can be called Psychopathity. Experienced agitators inciting mayhem at the G20, agents provocateurs, described in the media as "anarchists". We're guessing, but the requirements to be an advocate against capitalism-protester must be comprised the three U's: ugly, unkempt and unruly. We heard canisters of pepper spray and smoke were out in full force against these protesters rolling trash cans, beating drums and throwing rocks. The crime of record: unlawful assembly. Things came to a standstill when Darth Vader and the 'Guard wrapped the region in concrete barriers and high chain link fence.

I haven't left the North American continent for a while, so its interesting to get a glimpse of this nation's reputation from afar. Our friend in New Zealand, Baz, would have us think the US is a teeming mass of surgically altered adulterers, stupidly rich, overly paranoid and merciless imperialists busy inventing ever more creative ways to exploit Livity.

Its easy to see how he would get his impressions. Whenever I spend time abroad, I am aghast, also. The US appears, from a distance, as a badly built movie set. A trashy knockoff on the truly genius creations of humanity.

The reality is we've never evolved past adolescence, we skipped over maturity and wander endlessly in a fiat version of imitation to the extent imitation of our previous imitations is accepted as the ideal for all of humankind.

Even our media has become a series of morality plays reenacted from our cartoons, Bluto and Popeye, Mickey, Minnie and Goofy, Scrooge McDuck, Dick Tracy, Beetle Bailey, Archie and Jughead, etc. Maybe comics are the height of American glory?

Livity doesn't do comics. Livity doesn't read news. Livity rises above intolerable living conditions and tells us the truth of our conception on Planet Earth and guides the soul through whatever adventures follow early consciousness all the way to the grave. You either understand - overstand - or you don't. There are no exceptions to Livity, the moth accidentally trapped in your home must be released to the outdoors. You might ask, what does Livity kill?

Livity kills exploitation. Livity is the only way we will ever get out of the rat race. It is a state of mind, heart and body in surrender to the life force of Gaia, the perfect system already in place long before the cave man ever came along with his busy hands, tool making hands making weapons, seeking justice and revenge and cannibalizing Livity. The detour was taken, the species became lost, the natural mystics inside us all instantly destined to never see the sunlight. We are in collapse now, a teetering tower of comic strips exposed as poisonous white sugar with no nutritive value. This is what happens when false worship infects the foundations of what could have been, if only we'd seen what we were doing then. There has never been a full correction since.

...Theres a natural mystic blowing through the air;
If you listen carefully now you will hear.
This could be the first trumpet, might as well be the last:
Many more will have to suffer,
Many more will have to die - dont ask me why.

Things are not the way they used to be,
I wont tell no lie;
One and all have to face reality now.
though Ive tried to find the answer to all the questions they ask.
though I know its impossible to go livin through the past -
Dont tell no lie...

The point is we are not beyond repair, but the outcome is unfolding anyway. Even if we could fix all that has collapsed already and halt the remainder, Climate Chaos is beyond human control. At this moment, the man is putting into place regulations to lessen the effects of human caused global warming inside a fifty year time frame. Is this another comic strip? Yes, its infotainment for the signatories while the wars continue to impoverish Livity.

Its okay to be misunderstood and different from the man. You might find yourself a laughing stock making others amused or angry that you won't fit Jughead's profile. You can find peace in being the outcast because the incast is in collapse reading comics standing in the job application cue for Psychopathity.

The popularity concerning "knowing yourself" is but another clever detour, to "know yourself" is to select and imitate an identity from the incast. Take heed.

Without that monumental detour away from Livity, where, oh where, could we be now? Maybe you'd better not think about that. The scale of the opportunity missed is far too great for most of us to comprehend without running into the blinding light of truth, which is probably why humanity welcomed a detour in the first place. To see our truth is to see we are animations in dust. Moving nothings, undulating wave patterns, lost possibilities and infinite variations on something that didn't happen.