The Confluence Comes Home

May your noses always sniff out evil.

Let us revisit overpopulation today.  Survival Acres has a new post up that requires our attention.  Do visit if you can clear the underbrush in your mind long enough to understand the immediacy of the situation.  Clearing the mind is not exactly an easy accomplishment during the reelection dogfights, ah, such choiceless mockeries of mockeries, shams of shams, put them in the ring with the mopmen and pressing crowds in formal attire cheering for blood.  Are these events even worthy of your attention?  Oh please.  I look at the past few hours being online as futile except for John's confirmation of what we already know and refused to voice, as stated earlier... We'd better get real and soon.  Although, getting real isn't an effortless accomplishment either, humans have some weird optimism trigger that kicks on as worse turns to dire and dire turns to imminent.  We've all experienced "the delay" in the face of disaster.  For some few, it is extremely brief, for others, a "do anything other than act" sets in which shortly is nonverbally expressed as trust and faith someone else will save your ass.


I moved yet again a few weeks ago, thus the delay in getting up a new post.  While it may be seen as a running from, actually it was a welcome relief to hang out with more welcoming, intelligent people, not that there is anything wrong with the desert crowd, but isolation serves to distort one's perspective on just about anything.  Lesson learned: sharing is what its all about.  I've been doing things I never would have done previously and these are things such as attending open air theater under the backdrop of illustrious Spring Mountain, shown above, and back-breaking weeding on the home landscape neglected for years due to typical citizens' daily routines of ten hour workdays and drive-in takeaway before supine exhaustion.  The  idea is to help where real help is needed.  There is a swimming pool beneath the twelve foot high dandelion greens, which until recently formed a hanging jungle, all of which is gone now including dangerous dead undergrowth matted atop soil.  I still have much to do so please bear with me for another few weeks.  What is most amazing are the number of helicopters passing overhead.  They pass by in parades succeeding one another by sometimes a mere sixty seconds.  It goes on all day, probably at night too.  These are not news helicopters, these are something else and I have no idea what they are doing yet I've seen them as far away as Hoover Dam which means they are further south and then who knows where else.  I expect they will shortly turn into surveillance drones with trails conveniently blazed in advance of their arrival.  You have to ask yourself, what is the point?  Does illegal immigration matter anymore?  It seems to have given nourishment to these insane cartels which I do not think our peeps can control geographically.  Indeed, there is a long standing moral about this kind of activity, something about barn doors and horses escaping ...


Do we really need to be surveilled?  Or is this whole effort a boon to the security/weapons industries in the way healthcare is a boon to mega-insurers?  Considering the disaster rate, insurers could lose their pants immediately and live/breathe avoidance of payouts.  Perhaps to counter further failure of global economies, they've been handed the medical/pharmaceutical industries as the lifeboat of all time to stay afloat in our stormy situation.  And still more gilded life rings are passed around in spite of their obvious hastening of the planet's demise!  Do you believe this? Is it even possible? I really do not want to accept this as truth.  They are so off the wall in freely passing out destructive opportunities for financial gain they are either deaf, dumb and blind or they don't believe the very words out of their own mouths, like wooden dummies, seated on the knee of Satan, clucking sarcastically at the gullibility of the dirty unwashed, diseased, whining, broke and broken populations stuck into repetitive patterns of gimme gimme in all its indulgent guises.


The tragedy is to see it when it never should have happened and now it cannot be stopped.  In 1963, forty-nine eventful years ago, my child self asked my mother if I could use her aerosol can of hairspray to which she replied, sighing, "Well, do what you want, its your world now."  THEY KNEW THEN.  And they know now.  And they're never going to tell us either because mass chaos would ensue, the mass chaos that makes humanity the object of surveillance.  Equally sad is the gross underestimation of humanities' inherent goodness.  It is that part especially that stands out as you attempt to do something normal, something decent, like foodshopping or walking the dog, and you can't help but notice the fabric of society in vast disarray, everywhere, caring is for the stupid you know, you are supposed to be at home watching the stations' rotation of news casters, enjoying freecell on your cellphone and singling out those who are not in compliance with the program of delusion, instead of watching live scams go down block by block showing raw evidence of where the money is going and vanishing as some are obliviously unconcerned behind frescoed walls while others carry their domestic anguish into the street.  It is my observation, money is always the root of all problems.  It may not appear so, in fact it rarely will show itself, but look deeper.  It refuses to be acknowledged because such a root would be so crass.  When the means of exchange for goods and services turned into paper notes, our end was, from that moment on, written in the wind.


I certainly have enjoyed blogging with such a fine tribe of friends.  I see no reason to stop just because we've been lied to, cheated out of the future, cheated in every which way, robbed, trashed, humiliated and scammed, carpet bagged and incarcerated from birth into perpetual falseness as lifetime clowns in sad face, lingering these last few years for the distant roar of the crowd, the GMO popcorn, the Lions, what is left of them, breaking from their master's whip to foist centuries of anger denied them upon the innocent and stupid as the seams burst from overcrowding while the news choppers tape it all for the six o'clock hour where disaster is just another breathless ploy to score ratings which attract paying sponsors.

Jah Guide  - and be the good person that you are regardless of circumstance.  Do the right thing every time.  Blessings abound.