Spaceship of Fools

As I was saying, anything can happen and also mentioned the exponential feature of disaster. By now, you know how it goes and have reacted according to your Nature and situation in this life, considering too, the proximity of the Disaster/s-of-the Day to you and yours.  Media loves disasters.  Recently I visited the east coast region of Winter Storm Jonas and was told time and again, it was not nearly what the media made of it.  In fact, everyone bore up extremely well during that, ah, epic event.  "It was just a big snowstorm, we get that every winter here".

Too often lately, if you want to read a story on the news pages, you are requested through a pop-up to open an account with your email address and make up yet another password. Who among us is not irritated and fatigued with this practice?  That seemingly small trick is designed to 1) soothe us into fantasies of privacy and 2) what one does, they all must do, an important and widespread law in the personal constitution of ladder-climbing scribes of code.   Corporate media's screeching news stories advertise themselves wherever page space permits as well as report the same stories everyone else is putting out, usually with same, lame deviations from fact. Facts which they eventually, equally, iron out to resemble what they were supposed to say.  I've been clicking them off as soon as I sense the ploy, no further proof of intent required.  It makes readers feel like ducks bred for foie gras.

What they are doing has always been their ultimate goal from the time "news" transitioned from gossip to paid for with money, printed gossip.  We do not get the same news unilaterally, we get tailored news.  We are given the option to further the tailoring to fit a personality type their bots have decided we possess if they are so fortunate to have us actually subscribe.  Imagine Scrooge McDuck rolling in his golden coin coffers while  bots haul in the daily take.  Heh, but while there are many McDucks, there are seven billion more quacking people, swallowing whole what is being stuffed down their throats.

People could easily fill up their most productive time online lost in the maze of this nonsense.   It is just another effect of overpopulation, that social problem that has no remedy.  The more Humans, the more everything.  Its Present Shock. Hungry people vying for recognition and redemption, multiplying at an astonishing rate, regardless of happy talk statistics.  What, are we not supposed to realize the greatest rape in the history of the Universe is going down as we continue as we are?  And where we are has long moved beyond crazy.   Makes you wanna weep. 

Recall how you feel when someone tells you a lie.  The trust is broken.  And yet, they continue on as if you are stupid. Which is even worse... sometimes.   Because when you are thought of as stupid, the truth is staring you in the gut.  It is impossible to not see it.  However, at the point of obvious over-saturation, they move on to something else, like junkies, ever seeking more and more powerful ladders to inflate their peer recognition. 

By that time we also will have moved on.  Its already happening.  The history of Man is proof of the pudding.  The lifeless, so-called dead planets, in whatever form life took, went down the same roads we travel, so very long ago we can't possibly imagine.  We're just the latest kids on the block relearning the universal meaning of mortality.

Anything can happen

So much trouble in the world
So much trouble in the world

Bless my eyes this morning
Jah sun is on the rise once again
The way earthly thin's are goin'
Anything can happen.

You see men sailing on their ego trip,
Blast off on their spaceship,
Million miles from reality:
No care for you, no care for me.

So much trouble in the world;
So much trouble in the world...

Yes I.  Indeed.  Anything can happen ... and will and does.  As you know well, by now, at this time in this form in this particular go around on this spectacular Earthly plane.

Imagine, for example, what the next leaders of the multitudes of lives and lifestyles within our geography will be doing at their polished desks among all the rare antiquities surrounded by their special chosen Cabinet. Think about how they think of you - and then think about the generations to come.

Are we in agreement that it is absurd that the legal personhoods continue to flood coastal cities with waterfront development?  We wonder if the Blonde vs. Blonde voting populations also find it absurd.  I think not.  With one, we get to be subjects of the Roman Empire on Steroids, with the other, slave gladiators.  As in anything can happen perhaps nothing like what I've just described will happen. Judging by the American experience since WW2, a good bet would be no positive change, but an exponential growth of what we already have and see now - which will, naturally, unfold rapidly since this is how they already do it, momentum is increased at every opportunity and the opportunities are unlimited.  My friends, we are in uncharted territory. 

UNLESS

You see it for what you always saw it, lodged in buildings built by slaves housing the slickest of the slick, where they do what they think are slick things.  These things are rarely in and nowhere near our favor because people who make rules always make rules in their favor whether they know it or not.  Their favor means anything further separating them from those who are disfavored, be it status, power, visibility or loyalties favoring all whom they perceive to be just like themselves.

To live a happy life, forget about them and enjoy JAH suns and moons. Teach the children love and compassion.  Stay with your own creativity, it never fails to keep you high and away, above the BS and free.  Keep your mind open and learning.  Stay away from judgements, instead look for the overview. 

Surely there are many who sacrifice enjoying a happy life out of sheer gluttony for status, power and visibility.  They made their choices long ago and we should not expect them to change now, therefore, it is up to us to live our happy lives as best we can.  By using the term "happy life", I mean living a life in which you respect your own existence and everyone else's also.  If you have love for yourself, it radiates into everything you do, everyone you see, all species you come across, not just those with whom you are already close, but the "strangers" you frequently meet in your journey. More often than not, I am a little shocked and pleased to find new like minds where I never thought I would.  For Izzy who commented on our last post he wished it was easier to find like minds off line as it is for him online, I would think the more time you can spend offline, the more you give of yourself, you come across like minds.  Another thing that must be stated about happy lives isn't exactly Izzy's issue as he stated it, rather it is a common trait among human beings to create a pattern in the unconscious mind of just how a stranger must appear and sound in order to communicate with them.  It is extraordinarily beneficial to recognize that trait is a survival throwback to the dawn of Humankind and has virtually no basis in your mission on Earth within the Heavens.  All uncharted territory is opportunity.





Verse: So Much Trouble In The World
Bob Marley & The Wailers, from Songs of Freedom

alien patriots

When you are celebrated and revered by yourself (and oftentimes others solely on your say so) as a "super" anything, it inspires generally unrealized paranoia, but manifests in profound acting out on the part of the praised.  Look what being a super control freak did for George Zimmerman.  Look what living inside superdom has done for us.  When someone convinces themselves they are worthy of placement at the top of the dung heap, they make mistakes (because they are not thinking clearly and relying on past success in smothering errors) that winds up costing them far more than had they tempered their self-aggrandizement with a little humility.  In such a position, mistakes (impulsive actions not thought all the way through to inevitable consequence) are life shattering.  We see it daily in the news and in person taking place on every social strata from underpaid clerks in boiler rooms all the way to the grandest offices in the land. I posted the following on a popular conservative blog a year ago and to date, nothing since has transpired to change my opinion.

"At the root of this case, not in the aftermath and resulting layers of diversionary complexity, you have a human being stricken with an extreme desire for control who appointed himself vigilante and masqueraded with various members of authentic law enforcement as fellows in brotherhood, i.e.; trained and legalized members law enforcement.
Only someone with deep seated feelings of inadequacy and failure, "unable to control themselves", aspires to an identity of being above the law and often manifests escalating abusive behaviors such as domestic violence if the perpetrator does not receive intervention. Most never receive proper intervention. The point is usually buried with a good defense attorney only to surface later in even more bizarre behaviors. The jury should consider the underlying motives of anyone - armed, but unqualified to secure the safety of any community. There are trained and paid security guards for such positions. People allow self-appointed representatives because they are not willing to pay for the real thing and are willing to let someone else bear the responsibility for them, making it fully possible for irresponsible and disturbed fakes to create overwhelming problems with tragic implications for all involved. Did anyone even vet this guy before he was in position to cast his own version of final judgement? It doesn't matter that Zimmerman sustained an injury, it matters that he saw himself as an empowered authority figure with nothing at all to back it up.”

If we take the example of Zimmerman writ large, we're getting close to what is happening to our alien family way up there skiing the peaks of the previously mentioned heap.  When we read of the surveillance games, the coercions, the playground tit for tat, and when we read how fruitless such efforts toward total control have shown themselves to be, we wonder what shoe is dropping next because none of it plays out in they manner it was initially desired.  These aliens never give up, do they. When something doesn't work, the inventors, eager to stay on top, desperate actually, defend and amend language supporting a supposed brilliant achievement while we, watching, wondering, waiting, see only cruelty and failure.


We can call this a movement in the same way there was a Civil Rights Movement.  You will note how well that has worked out. Now, at this late date, we get word the aliens want to supercomb through our underwear drawers and are in possession of the super tools to do it.  You'll note their super secret courts have allowed them access.  We hear these secret courts and agencies with secret passkeys and biometric print entrances have mutual agenda to show off the little people's dirty laundry which makes this current movement more hypocritical than all movements past, movements that, looking back, did little to enhance life because anything conceived, plotted and acted out in secrecy has no chance of long term survival when exposed to the bright light of love and compassion.  You cannot cultivate Nature in darkness and expect it to thrive.  Whatever comes from the effort is stunted, twisted from last gasps to survive and fundamentally illegal by Natural Law, thus they keep their underwear search under wraps because God is always watching and God makes them paranoid.  IF what they are doing was good and right, trust me, they would not hide it, not our allegianced aliens.  And now as the grand result unfolds across the once glistening prairies, we are forced to ingest an upside down poisonous layer cake of alien defense bending over backwards and sideways to make wrong into right  I gotta tell you, guys, it can't last.  All illusions fall apart as we mature.  You are showing us the wormed fruit of false desire.  You don't have to be a weatherman to see which way the winds blows and we don't need no stinking secret program to do it either.


As I watch this parade of fools passing by, muscles flexing, jaws clacking, lockstep high steppers inebriated on cheap power, the banner wavers and philharmonics of great yawning black holes, I note many of our beautiful bredren hurt and confused.  This is not good.  You cannot abuse a nation this way, you cannot ground the people down into quivering blobs of GM jelly and expect a thriving, successful population to result.  Look at the stats.  All chartlines are dragging bottom, health, education, employment, science, industry, infrastructure, trust, etc.  Oh and while you look, look also at the violence spawned and multiplying unnatural disasters.


Back to Zimmerman.  Now just why was he, a man I've heard born with high-placed relations, acquitted?  Because his localized self-appointed vigilantism exemplifies the personality type encouraged and enamored by the ringed in fire, all-seeing eye of Sauron. All past deceits on his and his wife's part to conceal an internet-obtained "get out of jail free" card ... deleted from the record.  It was designed he would walk.  What's this guy really do for a living anyway?  And why was he speeding in Texas (Texas?) with a gun - after his vigilante gun was very pointedly not returned to him following the acquittal?  Note he got off with a warning.  Take a good look, this is, my friends, today's new patriot.  The alien's from no one knows where plaintive wail "Trayvon could have been me at seventeen" flatlines.  It could never have been him, his Mother was white. 


We could have been something great, something better at least than the greatest of the paranoid, the greatest of the failed and creative directors without equal, premier aides and abettors of planetary demise. 


It appears we come genetically from something similar to the children's barge, those young, present day Dicken's characters collared and shipped to somewhere else because no one knows what to do with wicked little orphans of the state, there are too many to support.  In the past, there were colonies available to absorb them such as Jamestown where the formerly imprisoned, mentally unfit and hopelessly undesirable could be delivered into self-survival.  The more entrepreneurial and paranoid among them took matters into their own hands.  Thus was born our rule of law, a centuries old manifest culled from the ranks of the most deviate predators, too incorrigible even for UK style 16th Century incarceration, mandating behaviors and ideals that keeps alive everything that should have been kept out.  They scorned, continuing to this day, the greatest opportunities of all time to wipe the slate clean.  We've never really recovered, the brief window of opportunity is sealed shut as our beleaguered Mother, unquestionably the purest and unerringly powerful force, the authentic truthteller lacking all illusion, the very engine that turns darkness into light, rises up to sweep clean the house of bad tidings, false gods, subterfuge, mayhem, malice, hypocrisy.

the inevitability of limited vision

The thing I like the most about the west is not something usually listed in travel advertisements such as accommodations and exclusivity.  It is the Cecil B. Demille skies at just about any given moment on any given day.  They appear unusually panoramic in comparison to skies in other geographies, with heightened cloud activity and weather complexities you would see elsewhere only over the open ocean where on the brightest sunny day, running wing on wing, you can study a distant squall off the port bow or rains falling from one cloud bank into another below it.  At this moment, a dark thunder storm is approaching from the southwest while overhead it is clear blue with Old Masters-style Cumulonimbus bordered with watercolor blends of soft Ultramarine graduating to crisp Titanium White.  You would think standing on the coast of say, Florida, you would see the same things, but it isn't so.  The Eastern Coast of this continent, especially in flat Florida, the adventures of Cowboy Clouds Gone Wild does not present itself in Cinerama, being quickly battened down by low lying landscapes: uninterrupted stretches of Mangroves and Sawgrass, beauties in themselves, but nothing like the lost fogs who become trapped in the passes and canyons hugging the California Transmontane as they also do in the Nevada Sheep's Range.  It is the appearance of white wool-like fluff that gathers through the striated peaks and crags that gives that region its name. This phenomena shows up often after rainstorms and on high humidity winter mornings.

What is peculiar about the cities of the western territories is the overkill to sell every man his castle.  In doing so, most homes built after the middle of the last century have high walls dividing them from their neighbors' houses.  Even strip malls employ a sort of semi permanent fencing arrangement utilizing metal posts and barbed wire.  It appears the McMansion development communities, squeezed by the thousands into formerly trash riddled vacant lots, each dwelling erected on individual tiny parcels, as small as the builder can get away with, are especially subject to high walls and ostentatious iron gates.  The walls are made of painted cinder blocks in multitudes of varieties of beige aka sand tones as if tight enclosure of the castle was something natural.  Is it natural to exit the kitchen door and meet with a wall extending to the second story?  These walls dividing homes from one another are typically fourteen or more cinder blocks tall. Even in ungated residential neighborhoods, the homes are walled off from passersby and sidewalks as if the presence of human habitation must be a secret kept far from tourists.  Existing behind walls limits sky viewing in the same way the web is seen on cell phones or news on TV with too many banners and blinking gadgets.  Who are these dickwads anyway,  blocking out our views?  Is anybody home there?  It is difficult to know what they're doing overhead, you can hear a lot of noise, seemingly close, but you don't know what it is.  It brings an air of gnawing mystery to whatever you are doing.  Naturally, it doesn't bother the locals at all.  Have they never lain in the grass with a friend watching clouds?  Actually, there is very little grass and grasses used for energy- intensive landscaping are poisoned.

There's more.  Most of the intrusive alerts and crackling static warnings that I mentioned in the last post are centered around flash floods.  They caution you to stay indoors, go nowhere, lay low until the all clear is given by "your" TV weather forecaster.   Do we have primary care weather-people now?    I have visited this same location off and on throughout the years, mostly seasonal layovers, mostly during this same season when these freak flash floods were definitely not happening, at least not happening to the extent they are this time.  Nature had not yet caught up with what the city planning board had in mind. Certainly, uninhabitable desert regions have always had flash floods since dry grit and creosote making up the floor of western deserts are not porous enough to soak up heavy water flow, in many foothhill regions you will see evidence of man's hand in redirecting the flow for human use.  But here, in the city, what seems to have happened is in the overbuilding, they covered the valley floor with wall to wall cement and asphalt, there is no other place for the water to go except into various dips of road and unfortunate properties cheaply bought and sold in less unpredictable seasons which we know are becoming more rare by the day.   It is exactly in those places flash floods take take their worst toll.  They have aqueducts, but not nearly enough and were never built to reign in the increasing summer overflow which always claimed victims even before superstorms.  This same situation also occurs in the high desert suburbs bordering the Mojave northwest of Los Angeles.  It happens where there are heavily traveled, ground level, high speed multilane asphalt highways bordered on both sides with non-porous ground and subject to increasingly extreme rainfall.  Of course, in the urban planning room, surely there are solutions to eliminate the fallout of flash floods, but the general story goes something like lack of funding, which is not the real story.  The real story is funding has been funneled into the show-off channel, an American Idol of the tallest, most absurd architectural atrocities designed specifically to lure huge convention crowds and international families bored with Disneyland.  Local citizens attempting survival in a state with the nation's highest foreclosure rate are actually a population of servicers to the illusion, working round the clock, racing over the curbs of flash flooded roadways to maintain the playground of a non-local 1% to whom the most important feature and most desirable and memorable adventure is blowing wads of dough at the altars of the Backjack gods.  Whatever weird, inexplicable interactions one may encounter in this city always have a common root.   It may take a lot of standing back and mental synthesis to make it out, but it never fails to arrive at the same vainglorious destination.  It is the same root for every destination mankind has worked over.  It is always all about the money.

In reference to the saying sex and money make the world go round, sex is only included in the partnership as the offspring of money, not the well spring.

I respect your right to debate, indeed there are millions of examples why this just isn't so.  Look at all the wonderful foundations that assist humankind ... the money that is diverted to charity would otherwise be taxable income.  This is how our system operates.  Regardless of who receives the funds, be it government or charitable foundation, the gaping flaw is owned by the earmarks directing the contribution. Do you read me?  So that developers of gated properties, in order to market the concept of One Man's Castle,  an updated version of retirees purchasing unseen sandlots in Arizona, get rollercoaster bangs for their buck as sponsoring members of the razor's edge fraternity, lobby for permissions to build and lobby against building codes they can legally ignore and those lobbies have been very successful, as you can see for yourself, but those lobbies and lobbyists are serving whom?  Not the clueless end-user who has been raked over the coals by the mortgage mills and employment classifieds and their children locked into lifetimes of education debt-servitude.  Not the women who were electrocuted in fire hydrant water spilling over a downed power line while attempting to rescue victims of the car accident that ended up on their sidewalk causing a chain of horrific events in the San Fernando Valley this week. Development is often a give and take business, they must contractually agree to include something for humanity at large such as public access to park benches and shade trees, but only if they are given free reign to short the construction codes.

Enough of that, all of THAT which now appears to be one long, curcuitous, converging zenith of mythical progress.  Much of which we all bear some small measure of guilt for some distantly related participation during the journey, even if that participation was nothing more than checking it out for the sheer curiosity or perhaps just going along for the ride.  The interesting part is how some of us have NOT become enured, none of what I am saying is new to you, I don't have stupid readers, Praise Jah, we keep on looking and keep on finding more interesting wonders daily, nightly and in those thoughtful hours inbetween, to fill our visual field and broaden spiritual development in spite of the many who give up and cave due to lack of encouragement, inspiration or example, life is so much more than what mankind has made of it.  It would be amusing if so many lives were not lost because of intentionally misdirected over-achievement and its coatail disciples.  Amusing in the similarity to standing on the beach watching the foam lap away your sandcastle, wave by wave, ever so gradually diminishing the dams, moats, towers, bridges and walls until there is nothing left but a clean smooth expanse, beautiful and perfect just as it always was.  Amusing as in building with toy blocks which fall and have to be put away in the blocksbox.  It seems it is inevitable, the persuasions of mankind always fall apart.

There is no good to be had from comparisons of your dream of lifestyle from that of childhood memory.  It only makes it worse.  Better for your personal well-being through which your own positive existence adds to the Overall Well Being, we ask what else is out there that can capture our compassion and expand our awareness in the Universal community?

***

Department of extracurricular observations and interpretations:

How long have we been reading Visible Origami?  Maybe forever.  All those years where Visible writes "Everything is under control" somehow entered the perceptive brain differently while reading a recent essay.  We've been under the mis-impression the phrase meant the Divine wouldn't actually take our beloved Earth away from us, that planetary calamity is unholy, extreme and intensifying, but ultimately a passing problem and we would be wise to not take it too seriously because change for the better is guaranteed regardless of Humanity's survival.  However, re-reading the phrase again a few days ago, in a somewhat different context, I realized and perhaps you did too, what he has been saying all along is that the ENTIRE show, journey, lifetime, dream, appearance/s, events, non-events, is controlled.  And as always, he backs it up with the qualifying statement, "for the purposes of demonstration".  This is much clearer now and I agree completely.

decisions, and decisions, and decisions, creeps in this petty pace ...

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5

If sticking with blogger translates to censorship, a further dumbing-down of the greater dumbdown which incidentally is a major whiplash into absolute slavedom, then the idea of packing up and moving one's blog somewhere else is unnerving to say the least.  Who is to say which is worse, staying or leaving?  Of course, moving elsewhere can be done, supposedly easily if you buy the hype, but the downside is finding yourself spending infinitely MORE time online than you already do, without the interaction, the discoveries, the visuals and the building on each others spiritual foundations.  Moving the blog technically is demanding enough for non-geeks, but the rearrangement of visuals is an unnecessary chore because we've already done it and can't imagine anything more potentially irritating than revising a finished work without the tools we trained ourselves to use developed over many years and through many "supposedly" more efficient ways of doing what we do here.   There is a  lot more to it than we are being led to believe, deleting the photos Picasa has accumulated in disregard to the fact we have already have offline photo storage and of course, the very big issue of starting all over again with a different email service.  I've tried a number of them over the years and found g-mail a lot faster to use, although you don't have any of the graphics choices other email systems provide.  And then there is the search feature, too, etc.

I've had a hunch from the beginning of this blog D day was coming because once you sign on to the blogger experience, you are encouraged to open a lot of strange doors, all of them leading back inside the grand spider web.  If you don't want to be eaten alive, you'll need to find the exit.  If you are uncomfortable with google's widely posted changes to come, don't let it turn into the procrastinator's indecisive wait and see. 

If we leave things as they are, after March 1st or 12th, I'm not exactly sure of the date, it appears we automatically turn into a Facebooky social networking situation, an all-inclusive, systematically tracked and profiled, total void of privacy; whatever is said in blogs, comments and emails will be scrutinized for the stated purpose of personalized advertisements popping up apparently whenever we connect to the web.  And where we go, we are advised, will be linked with where we've been, where we go next and how they classify the individual user, all wrapped in one tidy package to improve our overall individual internet experience.  Really!  Then count on whomever else comes into the mix up the road apiece, someone with the innovative moxie of the moment, as pretty much a guarantee to take it even further and deeper into previously unknown dimensions of connectivity and hog snorting glee as the anticipated profits rain down.  You will have to decide for yourself what those dimensions of the future could mean and how they could affect you.  It may suddenly take on new weight in your thoughts concerning your participation in the program. 

I am of two minds on this.  One mind, not my better, higher mind, says "So what, I'm okay with things as they are." The other mind sees this situation as dangerous, dangerous because anything anyone says is open to interpretation by technology, how reliable is that?  There certainly is no logical reason to be lackadaisical since whatever is going on today is already racing to change itself towards superseding unlimited growth, imagine that, infinite mutations of pituitary gigantism also known as Launois syndrome; downgrades and bankruptcy likely being the feared classic consequences they probably envision lie ahead without immediately monetizing every cluster of binary numbers.  Do note this change comes directly on the heels of Facebook's IPO filing.  If this gives you the chills, try to remember we're talking about personhoods here, not flesh and blood. 

Try telling them it isn't necessary, stop fiddling with what isn't broken.  Ah, but you know you cannot argue with machines armed with computer generated stats promising profit for economic innovation.  Have you ever tried to contact blogger for tech support?  Where are the people, the human beings wearing ear pieces and mouth mics, to fix your foibles?  We shouldn't wonder what happened to the human personality that used to be so gracious.  Once autobots replaced the human being your query into tech support in ANY situation no longer encouraged or required courtesy.  Once you figured out you could pay your bills by cellphone, online or just by authorizing creditors to trawl your bank account, you didn't have to write legibly either.  Mostly we learned to check boxes and copy/paste the rest.  How encouraging are conversations with other voices where you respond with only "yes" or "no" and hang up on them?  Every one of us is at least guilty of that.  That is what they want.  These antisocial actions only create more of the same antisocial behaviors.  If we are willing to cooperate this much, how much more will we cooperate with before signing out for the last time?  Are we even close?  Remotely close?  Some will be more than happy to go away and do something else, something real, something that does not lead to ennui.  Believe it or not, there is still a beautiful world out there, we will never find it the longer we stay glued to this unnatural relationship.

By the time it takes to deliver munitions over Iran, internet use will stampede, that is if it has not already reached everyone its going to reach.  We all have our own personalized arguments against this medium of communications, small or large, and it is strange to see ourselves continuing to take the beating all the while knowing we pay a heavy price to play.  I feel like the last person on the planet sometimes, hanging on to dial-up.  Every time I investigate the range of high speed options, I walk away disgusted, they think we use our laptops to watch TV!  Yes, that is always the first thing asked by DSL sales reps, "How much television viewing do you do online?"  When I say "None", there is a blank pause as if some alien broke into the connection.  And fer cryin' out loud, who in their right mind would want to pay more for something we already have and really, really don't want or need more?  If you read this blog's previous posts you might have come across a brilliant comment from someone who has been through it all and was at a complete loss to say what he's gained personally over the past decade from his internet experience.  I agree.  How about ah, less than nothing?  Nothing we didn't already know or would have discerned anyway or found at the local library if we were so moved.  Somehow, out of all these years of living we share, we have arrived here today intact, did we really need keyboards and autobots to ease us inside the corral?  Isn't this easing simply another avenue of humiliation and diminishment on the way to the ultimate goal? That the citizen animal is of no more worth to this planet than a useless eater taking up space that could be mangled into profitability with a little shift in perception accomplished though the multitaskers' attention deficit hyperactivity disorder information storm pulsating with blazing personalized come-ons?  See cryptogon's take.

My decision is made, seriously, is there any decision?  I'm merely looking for some unlikely argument for the other side in case I missed something.  I've been through this before with an earlier blog hosted on our former ISP and it turned out badly making blogger seem such a good find.  I was shut out of my original blog because the visitor limit was exceeded, which was, ahem, a shock.  Just a few minutes ago I tried to access that blog and the message reads forbidden access on their server which says only their ISP customers are allowed to visit, provided those visitors remain under whatever viewing limit is being imposed.  Its no great loss, but typical of the surprises you come across in these strange days.  If we go by recent history, it can only become more of what it already is.

In closing, I have to say, it does appear another long term relationship is in the throes of crashing.  It did not have to be this way fellas.

The farce flying in the face of quicksand

Among the over-aggressive, fatuitous people who hitched their fates to the Illusion, the impossibility of continuance somehow came to them in subconscious, fleeting, here today, gone tomorrow moments and slowly took off in viral whispers over flutes of outrageously expensive champagne in the highest places to the point it no longer mattered if there were endings or beginnings or even the mildest concern if a nation crumpled and then another and another, all of them failing by definition of a failed state, definitions designed by and for the Illusion, such failures were and are ubiquitously welcomed as the natural free progression towards fabulous opportunity for the successful predator, the very most successful, the King of all Predators being, of course, M-a-n.  A certain kind of man, belonging to a violent alien hybrid ethnicity perhaps.


At first, and for decades, it appeared and still does for the vast majority of helpless, confused slaves, that all, yes, every single one of the looming and dire threats facing our planet were being deliberately twisted, thrown into the Diversion Cellars of media conglomerates, misaligned by the most inconsequential, miniscule shards of truth and misrepresented to the public resulting in entire mountain ranges of false opinion based on yesterday's garbage.  This body of opinion existed, and still does, to occupy the space in the human mind organically reserved for natural curiosity.  How could it be, asked the worried slave, that a steady lineup of supposedly human models stands eagerly before the global camera bickering, misspeaking, yukking it up and putting forth agendas that would only serve to make a bad situation worse? That ever since climate change showed itself, the poisonous atmosphere has multiplied beyond record, that ever since awareness of a debt crisis was allowed, country by country is folding under pressure, that once it became obvious we were in deep trouble with peaking energy, there is more energy demand than ever before, and how could Fukushima's Chernobyl-style meltdowns occur with so little concern for the coming Cancers?  How 'bout a little statistic on Afghan civilians wanting endless drone war?  And why is it, asked the corn-fed children of the fructose-consuming slaves, all those regal leaders are running around bare ass naked, why, when its plain to see everyone's suffering is multiplying exponentially, do they keep on doing all those awful things?  Who will punish them, who is not a part of the dark side, why are they immune to sanctions and death penalties?  Even the little children, born into it, as busy as they are with their junior tech toys and belt bearing parents, can feel something is off while their meals consist of freeze dried doughy soylent green, but they are made to memorize the food pyramid in class.  Oh, what to do?  How do you answer to the kids?  Would YOU personally cover for the Abusers?  Um, I don't think so.  You'll have to break it to them soon enough because out there in the big, big world, children not much older than those still under the discomfort of an underwater mortgaged roof are enduring recovery from in your face pepper spray dished out by the very dudes whose united motto is to protect and serve. 


Who is being protected and who is serving whom?


Now, as yet another no fly zone is beginning the dogmatic excesses of being sealed into place over yet another wayward Arab Spring gone beastly, and the drumbeats against Iran grow into timpanic membrane-shattering thunder, we review these past decades as normal curious slaves and begin at last to fill in that difficult corner section of a trillion piece jigsaw puzzle. It would be easier to see through the fog if Black Everyday is a Shopping Holiday consumerism weren't equally as deafening in heightened contrast.  Buy! Buy! Kill!  Kill! While teetering malls track slaves by cellphone supposedly building statistics on what individual consumers do, where and how often inside gargantuan weather-less energy whales, why have we not heard of tracking the deadly results of Fukushima's meltdowns?  Why is it off the radar to get statistics for the future of Niger's youth, Somalian famine devastation and what in the world is going on now that spawned enemy plantation overseers are deep sixed, in the dark of night, keeping the believers out of the fantasia media loop?  When you start a story and the follow up is this weak, how are intentionally created, addicted to fake news slaves supposed to keep up with the full presentation?  Every day, many times in a day, stuff happens.  The news web revolves and spins with beginnings, but where are the endings? And the behind the scenes paragraphs and middle passages to keep up the interest?  We're not supposed to know.  We are supposed to be shopping, that is IF we are not panhandling dirty welfare hippies, living off entitlements, unemployed, a detested drag on the Dream turned to someone else's worst nightmare.


There cannot be endings and definitely not coerced beginnings and middles. You'll have to forgo them.   A real ending is final and reveals the horrific reality that It Is Over.  They know it, the slaves are not allowed to know.  Not since JFK have we had a decent person looking out for American interests as well as Humanity's interest.  This IS how it happened, step by secret step, sinking deeper into the Apocalyptic quicksand we lost our way in repetitive negative reinforcement.  It was not as much a pure awakening as a gradual realization over time that Planet Earth simply can not keep on functioning as it was and still to this day hobbles to do what it once did naturally, except it can not under the massive weight of too many gaping mouths and fattened wallets and bodies in various states of declining health, starvation of nutrients, we are like plants and need sunlight to survive, but the survival mechanism has been destroyed along with everything else.  This situation will go on and on until it can no longer carry the appetites of the self-inflated vampires taking it for granted our Earth is indestructible, one gigantic, unlimited free for all, ripe for the taking, an ongoing infinite, nonstop rape.  The ending of all the stories comes when the last man passes out from exhaustion on the last portion of decayed asphalt realizing, "Oh No!"  He knew it all along and his dying wish is to have been more prepared, to have told someone in a postion to do something what it was he was seeing.  It won't happen because until there is no one left, there will always be someone else who thinks they know better than the slave.


We will be the first humans to have three world wars within a single century and the toll of each serves to expedite the quicksand's lust.  It is not for lack of something better to do that Astrophysicists are deseperate to find planets bearing water.  The only question left once they close in on the real deal is:  Has mankind learned ANY lessons?  I doubt it.  The Universe is already known to be violent, it portends rather a perfect ending, does it not?  An ending with a brutal beginning, a metastasizing disease infecting galaxy after galaxy.  Will they bring along the gift blankets?  Is there a map of Black Holes yet?

 

Su is right in suggesting the internet will be closed down.  We have to expect it along with the continued diminshment in the quality of life overall.  Every avenue of repair, hope, possibility, escape and salvation will evaporate before our eyes as planetary austerity grows and overtakes every small, insignificant innocent being just going along minding their own business because they will never, ever tell us the truth since the truth implicates them beyond the shadow of doubt.  They will never understand in such times guilt is not the issue, we've known for decades blame is not a tool for conflict resolution, forgiveness and restoration of the natural balance is appropriate here, but their fear is too great.  The paranoia is so pervasive at every level, they throw patsy after patsy into the lion's den hoping the audience will be finally satiated and quit their irritating questions.  It is this death match which will continue to put forth all the wrong, actually opposite efforts leading to predictable failure leading to extinction of human and other resources that once supported a grand and glorious opportunity now wasted so badly it is fully impossible to go back in time.


Be sure to hug your loved ones, human or animal or both and be grateful for the time left and make possible whatever happiness for others, no matter how small that happiness, that you can bring about.  We are here in these extreme times for that reason only.  And it is a beautiful reason, there is none more pure than sharing our love and maximizing our compassion.  It seems to me that meltdown is built into every nuclear power plant online and is it not possible that all of them could be adjusted somewhat to make nuclear weaponry?  If that is the case, then the annihilation of Planet Earth is kinda guaranteed ... built into the plan you might say, not that slaves should ever spend a single minute dwelling on what that means in the bigger scheme.  We like to have faith we will be around at least to see our lifetimes through and surely that will happen ... or not, the edifice and artifice are incredible, spectacular even, but all of it harbors that ugly little trapdoor keeping us neatly rounded up in place never to know exactly when or how this sad story ends.

one fine day, the circle will be broken

History repeats itself.
The following was #12 on Billboard in 1959:

They're rioting in Africa, they're starving in Spain.
There's hurricanes in Florida, and Texas needs rain.
The whole world is festering with unhappy souls.
The French hate the Germans, the Germans hate the Poles.
Italians hate Yugoslavs, South Africans hate the Dutch.
And I don't like anybody very much!

But we can be tranquil, and thankful, and proud,
For mans' been endowed with a mushroom-shaped cloud.
And we know for certain that some lovely day
Someone will set the spark off, and we will all be blown away.

They're rioting in Africa, there's strife in Iran.
What nature doesn't do to us, will be done by our fellow man. 
Kingston Trio 


Of course, the names and faces change, the agenda only sounds new, but its not.  We have serious problems that go ignored while the world continues to react to created chaos.  Even the lyrics shown above are part of the agenda, i.e.; look here, don't look over there.  It is remarkable we've come so far in spite of the real and lingering threats to humanity, isn't it.  If one single person does something wrong, creating rippling problems for others, they are hunted down and thrown into the corporate slave labor market.  If leaders in collusion with others, all of them doing things wrong, the world falls apart, you'll notice, over and over and over again.  We are expected to pick up the pieces of our lives and go on.


But this time, it really is different. There is only so much picking up the pieces we can do.  The one thing we've learned if we've learned nothing else, is it is worsening.  And now, we are disgusted with this long drawn out worsening stage.  Everything is more painful and less understood as the panicked pile onto each other's panic like Charles Graner's Abu Ghraib pile of prisoners photographed in compromising position. (Linked for anyone who was over-consuming at the time instead of waking up to the incessant filth of harsh interrogations.)

The S&P ratings downgrade  is ludicrous in its weak attempt to label for the panicked that which was already unfolding.  Its another false flag that takes us into higher inflation paying higher interest rates on the foreign loans we can't pay anymore without staged cage fights from the crazies.  What else is up their sleeve we ask since the whole scheme is stupidly transparent.  


Here's Marshall Auerbach on Counterpunch:

... for the record, the S&P (along with Moody’s and Fitch) covered themselves with glory during the housing bubble, rating toxic subprime junk as AAA rated paper. Not only were the agencies politically corrupted by virtue of their incestuous ties to Wall Street, but criminally incompetent as well. ...

Definitely there will be more ugly kickbacks as dollar signs gleam in the eyes of our creditors.  Do understand though, what is happening here is not the end of the world, that comes later, as we age and evolve under roiling skies, tsunamis, mass famine and endless war because those in position to do the right thing don't do it and certainly didn't do it when the opportunity was before them, even the wealthiest and most altruistic, by default, throughout history allow evil to take its course and now it is too late.  It is too late because seven billion people is an unmanageable number and the real agenda is to bring that number down, just like an impossible debt, humanity is out of control. There are no bailouts available for overpopulation.

It is tragically amusing in a diabolical way that we are being reminded through every technological vehicle of communication that today's market crash is straight out of the 2008 playbook.  This sets us up to expect a repeat of the past three years.  Recall a few posts back the reminder concerning Stockholm Syndrome in which every simulacrum of relief is interpreted by the slaves as a kindness, an improvement in conditions and creates false hope which is false desire. And false desire, you know, is the cause of all suffering.


As long as we willingly hand over our attention to the noise, we will suffer needlessly since each journey by itself contains enough pain, sorrow, joy and glory to keep us occupied.

God help those who pay to play and may eternal fire and brimstone embrace those who lie, cheat and interfere at the expense of the innocent.

Meal tickets under glass

The circus continues.  What was not said here and that which was hinted the first time around are grotesquely obvious now.  The death penalty pundits make the political pundits look tame, tamed by their corporate masters rather like seals on skirted pedestals from one of many rings in which monstrous acts take place every day and every night under the Big Top until there is no memory of a beginning or any end in sight.  MSM prime time punditry would be fired for behaving as outrageously as the dagger death pundits, the couch potato noodle noosers bonbon-ing their ways into stampede wearing flip flops and halter tops, hair rollers and the ever present shopping bags overflowing with cameras, thumb twittering cell phones, awaiting their moment of a lifetime on youtube to imbed into the empty echos of their social networking sites.  Like?  One hundred and fifty million people liked this.  These particular pundits are insatiable and demanding, where's my panel? As the screen breaks up into squares of faces all speaking at once which means they have to yell in order to hear themselves as they are overridden by each others caterwauling.  I was hoping Bose earphones would sponsor this event, you know, those phones suggested to be worn in the presence of heavy machinery such as aircraft interiors.  Bose shows themselves to have somewhat more selective marketing moderation than underwrite death penalty pundits which are actually sponsored exhaustively by that shrill automotive insurance actress delivering her monologues as if she was in the front row at a Stones concert selling deep fried pretzels and pork rinds.

One of the events, many in fact, centered around the vivid technological displays of human decomposition by, heh, decomposition experts.  Who knew such gigs exist?  The crowds went gaga, you could hear the saliva quicken for the drools, quickly hidden by all manner of wipes.  The cries of disgust, the puking, things never before imagined in the actual slide shows of horror beyond all previous horrors as bone after bone was displayed accompanied by the imagined gnashing of animals chewing and dragging the toddler's torso through forested overgrowth.  So what I thought.  What did they think happens to the body in death anyway?  They think it must be pumped with formaldehyde, painted and hair-styled to look alive, gussied up in formal attire, rosy cheeked and merely asleep, sealed in an airtight gilded plastic and metal box six feet under the topsoil and guarded by armed security.  The point being there is big, big money in an industry to keep your true self cosmopolitaned for eternity and the circus audience stamps and screams in mass nausea if somehow one is revealed to have been flesh and blood all along, under all the frills and pretense, under the facade of the magazine mannequin, an unblemished, idealized product of the demographically targeted corporate consumer ... "Why God forbid!  Such a disturbance in thought is sheer blasphemy!"  Like?  Two hundred and sixty seven million people do not like this suggestive dialogue.

We've been all over that issue before, haven't we.  More times than I recall, here and at Su's, anywhere we have the opportunity to spread the word, the death industry is solitary incarceration extreme guaranteeing two thousand or so years from now you'll be dug up and showcased under glass in a natural history museum.  "Isn't he well preserved!  He looks so, so alive.  Beautiful work, taxidermists were real craftsmen then."  It all reminds me of people who have Elk heads on their wall, lacquered fish glued on plaques over the fireplace, the prized and princely testosterone den decor forevermore outdone, one upped by Jibbertongue Rumsfeld and his piece of a 911 airliner displayed on his former office of special plans wall.  A souvenir.  Perhaps it, like all of it, was just another high tech hologram.  Like?  Two hundred and ninety one million crazy baldheads do not think like this and will stamp their feet and screech at you for such wicked speech.  Why, they'll probably have a trial in the main ring complete with the prosecution's selection of experts yukking it up in their fifteen minutes of face time on TV, yeah! TV.  You are no one, you know, in this lonely beleaguered, hardass shell of a civilization unless you are on TV.  It doesn't matter if you are selling insurance or pork rinds, expertly analyzing computer generated news with your computer generated peers squeezed evermore tightly in between the headline banners, any airtime will do.  Of course, they have rules. The most sought after quality in addition to being fully integrated with your representative self so that the representative self is always in complete control, is high ratings appeal.  You'll note that the two most desirable qualities are actually one pure, homogenized quality unadulterated with any experience that cannot be easily explained.  There are no "ifs", no guesswork in questioning the possibility of something larger than can't be covered between trips to the pork rind bag and cerveza cooler.

In the trial, to date, still the question of a father for the toddler remains unasked and unmentioned.  This is a first, and how it is left to the unknown unmentioned is an amazing mystery, although, some dire and distant message comes through regardless and that would be, of course, the possibility in vitro fertilization at some point will be the future's sole legally controlled method for producing new generations of replacement representative selves.  In a throwback to early technology, designer DNA will be the cultural norm, children born never knowing what came before, true products of the moment, pudgy, steamrolled, cookie-cut and pundit-like in discourtesy, quick to condemn, always in control of themselves and their bleak surroundings seen as delightful, amusing, progressive, evidence of perfection everywhere because they can not possibly ever know what they like and don't like, in praise, always kneeling before the altars of quack dogma, the Big Top drawing in whole manufactured families to stare in awe at roadkill in sideshows unburdening them of their doubts.

There is nothing we think or do that someone somewhere can't figure out how to eek out a living off of you and in doing so, laws attempting to refunnel the cash flow are designed, voted and approved.  Legal or illegal.  There is also nothing that anyone anywhere does that cannot be defined by its opposite intention depending on the approval ratings within a culture.

It helps to understand these times in general by thinking about what isn't being presented and less about what is.  What drives the desires of entertainment seekers and what drives you.  While it may seem much like Shirley Jackson's short story, The Lottery, where the villagers drew lots to see who would be the annual stoning victim, it is only slightly more complicated being that approval ratings change as the situation worsens.  Ratings attempt to create a sense of growth and prosperity just around the corner in spite of the hopelessness of their tattered Big Tops and rigged sideshows of the fallen, shredded by the stampeding crowds lusting to be something more than a social networking wall, forever locked into the impression of free will and miraculously, never attending to the slightest concern they are the meal ticket du jour.

Granville Redmond, Malibu Coast Spring, c. 1929

... The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

It does not further one to cross the water

We have a few new links brought to us from Charles in the Free Never Overdue Library over there on the left, please take some time to digest them. A big Thank You to Charles.

So now, it looks like we'll be leaving the Middle East having accomplished the stated objective. Perhaps this objective is included in the Status of Forces agreement with Iraq, and perhaps there never was a SOFA at all. And certainly, we can expect what is left of our weary troops to come home from Afghanistan, right, with their bodies and minds intact since PTSD will soon be a fading footnote in the Diagnostics Manual. And we'll have no more terror talk and idiots on planes doing weird things with their underwear and shoes, so TSA will be furloughing the gropers, right? Did Saddam even know Obama, I mean Osama? One thing is for sure, there will be no more fake Osama videos. Whew. Can Nick Berg come home now? There is one burning question we all need to ask at this time given all the bs that has taken over our lovely planet and that would be Did they hate us for our bank robbers? Heh, you bet cuz the robber barons know nothing of sovereignty.

Writing the blog today is a lot like the end of the year high school yearbook signing fest where everyone tries to nutshell what took place and how much their friendships kept them mentally stable during those times. Your closest friends were allowed to take up a whole page, the more full page memories you collected, the more popular you were. Since popularity is definitely not the objective here, we won't go into all the misery and mischief that has gone down since the towers blew, you are living through the aftermath already. You want to scream, fine by me. You want to cry too? Have a tissue.

If ever you are going to deliberately lie, you need to have an ironclad alibi without holes otherwise someone will figure it out. The problem we are looking at today is lies were told, so many that the liars lost track, got cocky and left gaping craters which immediately were filled by willing loyalists who only created greater caverns of disbelief continuing to remind the victim/shil/mark/you that the string of nonsense produced was just that, nonsense, especially as people were labeled with nonsense terms such as nine eleven enthusiasts, a rather nasty swipe reminiscent of much older ones, nigger lover and close kin to injun lover, updated today to tree hugger, peacenik, pothead and doomer. My friends, have we any skin left that has not been burned, stung, smarting still as loss grows exponentially into greater and greater loss? We stand naked before it, the united federal lying machine, an entity with one sole intention which is to erase anyone who does not go along with the program and worse, anyone who is unable, especially for all the reasons created to keep us never, ever examining holes, buy into the program. What can sweatshop slaves buy into anyway?

We want to ask, hey, what happened? All THAT for what?

I'm fond of Stephen Crane's short story The Open Boat written during an especially dark literary period termed Modernism and published in 1898. You should read it through and if you do, you will remember it for the remainder of your days. It is brief and appropriate for these times:

..."If I am going to be drowned--if I am going to be drowned--if I am going to be drowned, why, in the name of the seven mad gods who rule the sea, was I allowed to come thus far and contemplate sand and trees?"...

In other words, and you will be doing that all the way through this timeless work and again as it reinforces itself repeatedly in human interactions: have we come so far, suffered so deeply, loved so dearly, endured torture and needless oppression beyond all reason, all for nothing?... What plan? June 2010 archives

Yes, we're back bobbing on the waves in sight of land we'll never reach in Stephen Crane's The Open Boat, we came so far, suffered so deeply, loved so dearly, endured and lost so much ... all for THIS? More than a freekin' decade of that and now this? Get real! Such horrors we would not wish upon our worst enemy, if we had any enemies. We do however, have deviants among us that do wish such things, painstakingly plan and live for the moment to carry them out. Here is your news sir, the lie is over, I am sorry for you because you have no reason any longer to thrive in your deviation. We have instead a series of real life disasters taking place in front of our very eyes and now you must redirect your attentions which means many of you will have nothing to do at all since solving the problems of the suffering is not part of the personal makeup of your representative-selves of whom you are held hijack. You will have gazillionz of trillions coming in now to fix our little oil dilemma, hopefully you will not pretend you misspoke about hologram Osama's instant sea splash and keep kicking the resource rich nations in the groin, assassinating their children, their blood seed, running the old regime change hustle on sovereign peoples, dragging NATO along where it was not officially empowered to assist. We can hope, but you will do what you will do. That is who you are.

You are known by what you do.

The supposed death of the supposed cult leader will change nothing except to further reveal the extent of the disruptive and diversionary psychosis that grips westerners. This latest has everything to do with keeping afloat multilayered fabrications designed to bestow personhood on the global sucking vampires who are not persons at all. They must at all costs keep their failing Ken doll twirling in his executive swivel chair rather than let some over-rich, balding, Chateaubrianded version of Rev. Terry Jones as a rug-headed TV personality realign the people's perceptions yet again. Further, they absolutely require the gods of hyper-jibberish to continue waxing on the hallelujah recovery in order for all of us to reawaken our diminished senses of need and gas it over to the nearest Wal*Mart to consume nonstop at the nonsense trough.

For an interesting mental exercise, imagine the amount of advance coordinated planning that went into gathering thousands of fresh-faced subteens together in front of the cameras, all of whom strangely appeared at first glance to be celebrating Mardi Gras, gushing in glee over the news the old evil hologram met his demise, much the same as if Sukie, the waitress fairy, put an end once and for all to the True Blood leeches.

Now imagine this: The time came the slaves no longer needed the whip for they knew their place well and knew there would be no escape for the remainder of their miserable days on Earth.

So much tragedy barely holding together a weakened, beaten, downgraded infrastructure and disgruntled populace. We could have skipped it entirely and just gotten down to work. Think of what beneficent wonders could have been accomplished during a whole decade had it not been for the neoCons' deathmatch journey into Nevernever Land. Instead, we could be this very day supporting something such as a global Earth-friendly volunteer association open to every nation, developing and otherwise, for sharing resources while simultaneously cooperating with all educational and scientific institutions in discovery and implementation of sustainable systems for poison free agriculture and healthy alternatives to factory farming and slaughter of livestock, realistically addressing the limits of the planet as finite and dealing humanely with overpopulation through multitudes of small and local enlightenment programs which include safe and freely distributed birth control.

We will not be participating in anything remotely as necessary as you can plainly see since baldfaced lying is still perceived as the only way to advance the insatiable hunger of imperialism, which in itself is nothing but covetous, outright theft when you lift away the altruistic veil. A veil which you may have noticed, isn't fooling any of the victim/shil/sufferers/you or me or anybody, anywhere. Thus we get this shabby little Osama story thrown at us interspersed with hundreds of other shabby little stories as if the dumbdown stage was just one of many checklist missions accomplished.

Truly, it makes you wonder what pact with the devil was made to get that which was perceived as so necessary.

Thus, we continue on the treadmill of zero resolution while repeating all the same tired mistakes which brought us to this point of collapse. Abusing Nature and her creations, rampant, heedlessly warring wherever the natural inhabitant species have been intentionally weakened over time, dispossessed and disoriented. We will go on as we are, awakening each day to incessant distortions and deformities of species behavior, including that of the human species, corralled and broken down into levels of useful servitude or slaughter, and all of it for one disgusting, egregious reason, that no thinking person discover the truth behind the greatest and greediest lies since all of recorded history. This is why there will be no repair, the damage done and damage to come is too great. When something this severe occurs, you must go back to the beginning and start anew, something which will never be considered in the program since what we are talking about is comedy for the annual Correspondents Dinner.

Centuries ago when the idea for this experiment towards a better life was undertaken, how many signed on to get away from exactly that which continues unabated and exaggerated today? It does not further one to cross the waters because the same and worse exists on the other side. There is only one safe haven and it is not here, it will only appear before you when the time is right.

How can the time possibly be right today while we measure radiation clouds and the Gulf floor steadily, irreparably, seeps dark, deadly grease destroying any possibility of renewal? Have they yet tasted corexit in Niger?

More on the subject, and don't miss the comments:

Exit the Excuse ... But Elites Insist Their Wars Must Go On

OSAMA BIN LADEN

And my favorite new phrase: Managed Perception. Wow, that's just like managed care or debt management or anger management. Everything must be managed now, you know. Otherwise, things might take their natural course and that is hmmmm, extremely dangerous.

When Does "Managed Perception" Become Reality? Note that Charles never mentions Osama, but he doesn't have to. All of it is related as our frequent readers know only too well.

darkness before the dawn

There used to be an amusement park ride called the Mad Mouse. There were bright colored two person mouse cars, someone belted in front and someone belted in back, on a roller coaster-style track, high up, sliding waaay down, the whole experience at breakneck speed. The Apocalypse kind of reminds me of this ride. We paid with our lives and we can't get off once it's started. This ride will jerk you around, take you to the top and dump you on a downhill race to the bottom only to careen sideways into a detour where the track abruptly ends, you back up and then you're gone again, faster, higher, twirling into a downward spiral, slamming into another detour, yanking back suddenly to the main track and so forth. It made a lot of people sick and sometimes pretty angry. I didn't really care for it either and went once to see what all the shouting was about and again, to confirm it was as bad as I remembered.

We are in a little lull right now, while one Apocalyptic disaster unfolds planet wide another is brewing, poised to shrink Fukushima as we exhaust ourselves racing ahead of simultaneous eruptions, i.e.; the crises of corruptions gone wrong, miscalculated, underestimated, excused, weakly justified, but lucrative and layered with complex levels of extreme profit. I am shell shocked, not about anything you would assume, but about the stunning, spectacular, overwhelming stupidity and lack of foresight which has created a world of in your face greeeeeeeeed. The hypocrisy knows no bounds and Iran has a lot of oil.

Who in their right mind celebrates the 150 year anniversary of the Civil War for example? Oh, yes, let's make a parade, bring on the fireworks, let's tear down the drapes and make velvet frocks with corsets laced tightly by our beaten, whipped, raped and Stockholm syndromed human possessions and then let's drink the fruited wines they made us and lie in rows upon the railroad tracks of ancient Terminus, now a gentrified shopping mall turned tourist attraction. A century and a half after the ugly facts, we come to find the same Wetikos hangin' round, still, working the same old stories of hate and paranoia. Its all too much for the love people, I can't imagine how the rest of you are handling the latest developments. I can barely open the plastic box anymore. To visit news sites or hear the pundits screeching in the background between grotesque, high pressure come-ons must be what it is to be insane, all of it mashed together as one long monotonous vision of obsequious fakery. Who do they think they're fooling? The burger set? Maybe as that set gorges its way to the recruitment hooks and perhaps a short half-life is a better life than the life of victims, children, elders, ordinary shack dwellers who never knew the land upon which the dust twists daily is Terminus all over again. At some point, lies backfire bringing on karma, Bring it on. The wait for love people is agonizing because we feel it coming, in spite of the decrees and altruistic covers designed to keep us in rags so our pockets have irreparable holes through which every penny dribbles out as if the single copper cent lying in our tracks is a sign around our necks "Take it, take it all, and take me too." Whenever I check in with the little box, its amazing to see everyone at it still. I ask why? What are you looking for that you don't already know? Perhaps you are looking for something you don't know, something impossible and suddenly, sigh, there it is. Hmmm.

How many nuke plants exist on Planet Earth? And is each a foil for Earth shattering weaponry too? Or just some of them? Like the allies. How would we know? We would not. Especially when every headline is about prostitutes' skeletons and sports doping or Charlie Sheen or heh, the movements taking place on the campaign trail. Or the budget deficit. That's a favorite, hunh. That'll keep all those nosy armchair economists glued to their screens, keep their noses out of things that really matter cuz we down here in Loveville don't have any economy left at all. When the Wetiko plan finally comes into full bloom, we'll go first because our entire lives have been gradually stripmined to make room for the gargantuan wallets of Monopoly (tm) money. Don't look now, but the little people everywhere, the love people, the love people in-training, the good and the innocent have either lost everything held dear to them or they are in the process of having it forced away through torture, radiation, disease, through lack of awareness, empty pockets and various interesting schemes in which the person victimized is not a consideration, never was and never will be.

Frankly, I confess to holding out some exceptionally small sliver of faint desire that there would be some vague turnaround of humanity by now, as in a general collective-unconscious looking for the bright side, oh, how foolish of me. In fact, what has been our collective life since the awakening of the Bu-ad godzilla is now our zeitgeist-in-full, rounded out, obtuse and obese. This is the way it is. Today and evermore until no more. And being that it is this way, what, I ask you, is there to look forward to? Ah, yes, at last, the plantation overseers are back in the saddle whipping the steed faster this time aided by monster technology and mushroom clouds. Dare you let on your anguish unless you want to see the new evaporation tool microwave your entire existence into instant ash and minuscule sprays of blood and mucus running in rivulets down that velvet dress.

Every single time the Wetikos turn on their campaign shows, I've always thought, hey, its too soon. You might have noticed its never too soon. Decades before the actual festivals begin, the presidential hologramed hopefuls are plotting four, eight, twelve years ahead. In between the vast, colorful ,nauseating, corporate-funded, chain-linked urban takeovers, we get to see our falling rock stars show themselves to never have been worthy of all that adulation. Is big business to be adulated? Must they leave us too early like Stevie Ray and Bob Marley in order to get out from under the giant Earthmover's dirt dripping claws? Leaving us to stand alone in shock and awe cherishing their memory, we point still to their example, how is that different than martyrdom? Surely there are secrets there too, better we do not know. We have too much already bringing us down and deeper. Why has no one come forward to state unequivocally we are in the thick of the energy wars, which are different than the turf wars of old in that those wars ended, why hide the motivation now, everyone knows what's up. Ten days ago I bought cheap gas for $4.09 pg. If that isn't a dead giveaway, I don't know what is. Who knew so many multitudes of so-called humans are pigs. Lipsticked. Armed to the teeth. Sporting comb overs resembling wet, used mops upside down over their skulls, perhaps that is a Wetiko thing to the tune of here today, gone tomorrow. Dancing with the stars, falling off the stage, who will Lady Gaga sue? What do you think Bristol pays in property taxes? Out of who's pocket? Do these ahem, people have underground bunkers equipped for twenty four thousand-years worth of privileged living? Listen, if you don't, you'd better think about what you're doing.

Often I ask myself who is driving this ship and what happened to them that they grew up with SFbrains, why would they parade and preen before media portraying themselves in possession of expert opinion, a deluxe opinion, the opinion of better, more skillful, superior, more worthy persons? That somehow they were finely crafted human Bentleys of excellence with extra-prescient perception where everyone apart from them is unworthy, evil, atheistic, witches and warlocks, to be feared and eliminated, out of sight, out of mind? Are they all abused children acting out, finally in position to "get their's"? That they were so ill-treated in youth ruined any possibility for the existence of compassion or clarity of values? No, it isn't that. I've known personally too many people with horrible back stories and lingering scars of abuse and found them to put truth to the idea suffering creates enlightenment, so deeply feeling, so deeply understanding of the plight of others for abuse to be a core reason. More likely it is obsessive power corrupting, creating laws by the minute overriding other laws created by competing powers, all of it designed to enrich and self-sustain while creating even more control, always selectively blind to the consequences because once tainted it turns to permanent stain out of all proportion to the original act - like Ponzi schemes, like serial killing. There can be no turnaround from here, its gone too far. It is illogical to trust planting a garden and going small and local as a means of fending off nuclear winter lying not too far in the future. Its not us driving this ship my friends, unfortunately the Captain rammed the iceberg out of choice and should the ship right itself, who is to say the first mate won't attempt to complete the effort? When you see these Wetikos making their Wetiko claims inspiring hatred, prejudice and egging on the Gods of war, you see a frightened little freak worried they will run out of gas in the dark on an unlit overpass crumbling into a swift moving river, wide and deep.

Kali at the gates

Certain friends who comment here are insisting I stick around no matter how many weeks in between posts.  This is good, helpful and believe it or not, I've actually composed a few essays and deleted them as not being entirely accurate descriptions of the issues and impressions of this profound period.  Every question that appears to have an answer only brings up more questions and concerns and possibilities that rumble around in the back of our minds where certainty has not yet attached itself.  Everything, when looked into in greater detail, adding in all the considerations for all involved, appears to be insolvable and yet we have come this far on insolvable questions already, sometimes a few are solved by the luck of the draw, but quickly return to Darkness extended.  This says that the question of the life experience itself may very well be unanswerable in the way we want it to be answered.  It doesn't mean we don't have a plan, many of us do, but are unable to act sufficiently on our plans because too much of these plans are dependent on variables over which we have no control.  That's where the good old "wait and see" comes in, unless wait and see turns into the painful and slow evaporation of any plan at all.  Taking apart wait and see, you'll realize it is procrastination costumed in hope.  Now I have always stressed here that hope is as equally empty a human expression as belief, both being variations on wishful thinking which is a real phenomena and often at the root of denial.  Hope, belief, wishful thinking are age-old tools for coping with the harder parts of our journeys and not to be trusted if you seek truth.  I'm thinking these worthless tools have been passed on to us since the days we wore natural coats protecting us from the harsher elements in cave dwelling and kept around because our brains had not yet developed more complex thought processes other than those of our immediate physical needs i.e.; food, water, shelter and sex.  Throughout the turf wars of empires past, people typically clung to magical falsehoods, myths as truth, thinking they were real, alive, inviolate and worthwhile.  In return they became devastated with disappointment and susceptible to plagues, even greater penury than previously thought possible, enslavement, imprisonment and inhumane execution where their hopes and beliefs were sometimes suddenly, sometimes slowly and always cruelly dashed.  All of this still goes on and has mutated over the centuries into regal platitudes of hope and belief as public panacea which unfortunately turns out to be better stated as language used against hopers and believers:  a "dogmatic softening of the target" in order to accomplish whatever it is the regals' plan of the day is trumpeting, which regals themselves are by necessity prone to integrate subliminally.  An example of this would be universal health care.  This is how they can stand before huge crowds convincing the hopeful and the believers, they have convinced themselves they stand on the highest moral ground while omitting an important detail, that of their very own immorality.

Hurricane Katrina, photo: c. Google Images 

We end up confused and in denial.  Denial on the part of the peasants and denial of true intent by the regals empowering situations such as the one in which we are currently embroiled in all its absurd fullness allowing massively over-bloated egos to attempt one world government, a misnomer if there ever was one since the real intent is empire with unfettered possession of free resources anywhere desirable resources exist.  The best term would then be Planet Ownership since governing as we think of government isn't actually happening and has not been happening, perhaps it never happened at all in the way people hoped and believed it was.  In retrospect, Katrina opened our minds to that very possibility and all disasters since continue to reinforce it.  Consider that it has taken the judicial system more than nine years to vote in favor of the 911 emergency management workers, more than a few of whom are long dead and buried.  Consider this in context of having a plan and leaving the implementation up to hope and belief. Consider how non-citizens are slammed with US law which does not apply outside our borders and yet we know the cleverness of the corrupted, focused minds at work will find a way given enough hope and belief from other nations who have grown dependent on that borderless Santa Clause leadership sleighing in with IMF reindeer from the mythical shining city of the company store to whom world citizens are supposed to owe their souls.  I've come to find by reading various items on the net a great many of us feel that 911 was the beginning of all the horrors that have taken place since, but those discovered horrors only show us what was eliminated or glossed over, briefly, during formal education, formal because it is designed to form.  The Internet is here to fill in those weak and blank spots without the Tinseltown touches, but you have to seek or you shall never find.  I will even go so far as to say you have to know suffering to find out why suffering exists.  Suffering, great suffering, has always been around and knowing it only comes though identifying with suffering because you suffer.  Identification with suffering can only happen if you get those stars out of your eyes.  You have to have blown your life repeatedly to understand no matter what you do and where you go suffering is a natural part of life in this world for every one of us except those people who don't think they suffer because they have hope and belief to keep them from cashing in their chips.  I wouldn't worry about them, they are an anomaly to mankind.  They've always been around and plan on going to the grave wrapped in a shroud of marshmellow denial regardless of whatever lives they led.  There are too many categories in which this group falls to mention them all.  I will say these are the invested who do anything to please, typically we call them errand boys, clerks and mostly we know of them as enablers.

Squatters camp California 1936 by Dorothea Lange

It does appear that with each passing day the gates are closing a little more rapidly each time you look and the recourse to complete work camp enslavement and elimination of the needy, sick and elderly cannot happen on any lesser scale than what we see taking place in these energy wars.  We don't win wars anymore because the people being warred upon know their enemy well.  This has not always been the case, it is only with the advent of 4th generation warfare (the elimination of face to face linear combat where anything goes) and nonhuman weaponry we were able to enter into the state of winless warring at all.  Honor vanished, if it ever existed, replaced with disgrace and never ending defeat.  Now, with world population at an all time high and expected to increase, the conquering of bordered masses of human souls is impossible, no matter how much money is to be made, no matter how much death, disease, suffering, outright theft and occupations of puppet governments, no matter the resources at stake, there are simply too many bright and clever people applying their hearts, minds and skills to these operations for the aggressors to accomplish exactly whatever it was they planned and the warmakers, as you know, are underwriting their performances of power while balancing spectacular, ultimately unmanageable deficits.

The best empire can do is foment civil war and sneak around behind the scenes while hope is warring with belief.  Oh they feared that loudly according to the pundits promoting Rumsfeld in video clips denouncing civil war as absolutely the one element they did not want and yet that is their only way, the last card to play and not even that last card worked in Iraq and it sure won't work anywhere else considering the foibles of ego gone wild playing out in Afpak and anywhere else in the Sustainwesternizationistans.  The greatest failure of the regals is their inability to recognize mankind's sentience and durability to survive in spite of suffering.  That link by the way contains Linh Dinh's message, but Counterpunch displays it more easily without the photo download wait.  I strongly suggest you peek and when you are done then visit his blog for visuals.  No one can say cities are any worse off than rural municipalities, each has its own flavor of suffering which overall is desperation as hope and belief show themselves to be useless push backs against the inevitable. 

If we were in a stage of our evolution where cruelty was banished out of sight and mind, which is in part what empire historically promotes so we won't interfere, we would not be able to reconcile suffering in terms that fit in with our lifestyles (strange word - zeitgeist alert) and would ignore it as some alien noise from the outside that had nothing to do with us.  All of that changed, again thanks to the web and thanks to the overpopulous amping of efforts to control and coerce brought to us by the same technological development that make the Internet possible.  This is yet another take on the double edge sword of being alive during the great toboggan downhill slide of Peak Everything.  In Peak Everything we play musical chairs everyday, every sleepless night under a comforter of dreams while nothing is done to alleviate even minimally the collapsing of social order.

In the world of our dreams we are replacing the missing chair, giving of ourselves without restraints, sharing our tables and sitting at the tables of our friends, all without wishful thinking, but creating the best of ourselves, the humanities, the things that last, the passing on to future generations real survival skills and the realities of our pasts, our love and our nurturing in ways that will see them into eternity - the way it was meant to be without making up useless phrases and deifying false gods because none of that is needed to be truly human.  The world of our dreams will never come about without honesty, tireless compassion and the absence of shame, paranoia and guilt.  As long as we bear guilt for our ruinous investments in nonsense we remain tied to the abusive wheel with which we steer all species into oblivion. In the world of our dreams we recognize the right of everything to exist alongside us without taking advantage because we are all that we need to be exactly as we are and always have been.  And yet, in spite of all we think we know, don't know and learn, see and experience, what is IS. There is nothing else. 

Why anyone, especially at this point in time, would entertain hope and belief is beyond me.  Sure, there is the occasional feel good human interest story put there to sustain the wishful.  After all, it is the wishful making up quite a lot of the sub-party clans that you will note have not been able to get through their agendas, sadly making laughing stocks of themselves as if they are nothing more than another television junk reality show.  Ask yourself just whom exactly sponsors these shows and why.

Last word: It is a HUGE tragedy among us that intelligent, decent people can put up a very direct and truthful blog post only to rescind it hours later on the grounds naked, unvarnished truth will bring them only deeper and more immediate suffering.  Such events tell us the truth of our present and are omens of what we can expect this new year to bring.