World X sponsors revolution ap

... Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
first thing you learn is that you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for my man ... 
Lou Reed ,  lyric from I'm waiting for the man


We who have been so badly burned over and over our skins red and oozing from the lash, and not just us, but everyone all around us in their varying states of suffering, look up and see protestors on tv, on the net, in our hearts, wondering what slimey deceitful tortures await them?  That is how we've come to think.  We are not really Stockholm Syndromers, appreciative of any pause in the new, upgraded wheel of everything, the operating system under which slaves, wrists leashed to railroad ties overhead, power the wheel 24/7. No, nada, nunca mas, rather we are compassionate, seeking their safety, It IS becoming too big to fail, this is empowering them, every arrest empowers them more, and then when the you-know-whos make the TBTF connection, the real war, not the one that has become totally automatized and roboticized, begins.  Those real wars will be the one-sided wars of exposure of the most mundane detail of a human life interpreted to mean something completely different by running it through the press release machines.  Wars of ubiquitous commercialism and sponsored entertainment, great amounts of wealth will  pass hands.  It will be attacked as a rite of passage, the Aborigine child at last becomes a man, because no one can afford to backpack through Europe anymore, and the costs are not always financial.


When Tahrir Square's protests began, bleating pundits directed opinion in the weeks long media blitz, the one thing you knew straight on was how the Overseers viewed it.  The violence was roundly "deplored".  You knew they wanted to quell that thing a.s.a.p. because it was giving others in other locations in the Zombie Food Court ideas.  You know what happened later and how lovely things are over there today.  Why in fact, many of us will recall a bizarre photo candidly depicting the war cabinet hovered over questionably functioning laptops. 


I am jaded.  I see things from the inside out, not outside in.  It is natural to ask about anything that appears to be one thing, if perhaps maybe its another?  Life is all about learning and this just one of multitudes of ways that we learn.  "What if ..." is usually a good way to present the case.  It invites sharing the responsibility of a direct response. That particular method of inviting exchange can go to unusual places and you will learn what you needed to know, if you didn't already, at the least you will have confirmed your original observations.


Maybe if ... we had not already put aside false desires such as hope and belief, and lived so hard on the barren plain of the human condition, crushed by repeated falls into the stairwells of life's basement long enough to recognize the pattern and its mocking roots of Wetiko wet nurses and Wetiko religious dogma, maybe we would want to ask who started what and why.  Oh, forget the "why."  Moreover, forget the "who" also.  Who cares?  "What" is what we learn, "how" is the core.  And running through the heart, pole to pole, is the arrow of evil, the Yang.  In the early chapters of Arab Spring, I suggested sovereign leaders were being rotated in a manner more beneficial to  Big Mo.  I think all of our questions are being answered with each passing event. Especially the part about sovereign which in the language of the World X OS upgrade translates to colonial.


If we apply what we learn to another situation we might say "What if ... what if the design is inextricably in place, all that is left is more bloodletting and the good old highway robbery under the cover of darkness and freight trains, forever underwater at the company store? One of billions wet-faced in the rain racing for shelter, to the tents and migrant motels?  What if ... we die and are exploited further in death by past-their-prime degenerates playing their last card last off your back?  Addicts never change.  They can clean up, briefly, but its always calling.  You bet they are hustling again, they are in a pact from the grave.  The candidates are competing with the false flags.  Every time, throughout all of human existence, when they start up that shuck and jive, it is the sound of hellfire and fury heralding in another notch on the ancient Totem of history. In fact, there was another heated display of cravings just today as the Iran drumbeat drifted across the prairies with the Cartels as back-up chorus.  Of course, its not doing well on the charts, its rather worthless until they can use it in conjunction with the Times Square dude and the panties on the plane mule.


What success are we seeking?  We are seeking peace of mind and to be left alone to pursue our authentic interests, so many of which are denied for all the wrong reasons regardless of geography.  We seek universal love and compassion, genuine peace on Earth and recognition of every living thing on the Living Planet as family.  These few things are not universally sought, you know that much by now no matter what station you may be waiting in during this journey,  but be comforted - you are not alone.

Bondye se gade

It takes a keen mind to perceive that what we have here is a conundrum, a riddle with a joke as the punchline.  It doesn't have to be funny, especially when the joke is on us.  The joke is how far away we've veered from what IS.  Oh, we've veered far.  Maybe on your first visit to a shrink you might have stated your reason for undergoing shrinking was not being able to tell the difference between reality and fantasy.  And maybe he/she asked in nonthreatening tones that you define, as best you were able, reality.  Even then you could have realized how such a question is not very different than trying to define normal.

 ... science acquires a certain comical swagger for making things you can squeeze out of tubes, in order to process the contents through other tubes that process the contents into waste products. ...  Love in the Time of the Hadron Collider, by Visible

Not a day goes by I don't think about how toyish and absurd the present has become and like you, examine the reasons why this happened and more, what can we do about it?  Maybe our complaint has something subliminal to do with a lack of communication between the past and the present, as if our ancestors would please step forward now and show us how they lived without constant nonsense.  Surely they would find our convenience and comfort inventions, such as a tie-on shearling toilet seat cover, insane. Perhaps they would be glad they didn't stick around longer.

The Internet is a another conundrum for all of us who labor in creation sharing online be it words, art, information, poetry, music, because we've learned the net has some kind of master off switch accessible to heads of state and more, in a post Apocalyptic world (The Road alert, The Book of Eli alert) all of our published efforts will vanish into that nebulous place they call Cyberspace, perhaps the Yucca Mountain of moons, never to be recovered, just hidden behind planets and overlaid with dust rings.  You can say that's impossible, the Internet is here to stay, but we all know its just another one of those technological variations made of petroleum derivatives and precious metals, it might as well have been made of whatever is squeezed out of those tubes Visible brought to our attention, all of which will no doubt disrupt the rediscovery of reality again and again until reality liquidates your personal space. 

Not that there is any such thing as heh, personal space anymore.  Yes, there once was, but that was only more of the lunacy much like This is mine, that is yours, except if it comes from the Earth, its not either of ours and since Everything comes from Earth, well ... Only if you'd bought into the entire fantasy would you think you possessed anything other than your own mind/body and even those are up for question.  It remains another chapter in the universal conundrum why people can't see the immensely evil violations committed through false possession.  And yet, the excuses for doing so are specifically designed to point out the vacancy in an intellect you actually possess.  This is one of the hard parts of being a love person, we are easy to take advantage of and this feature is not lost on those who love to hate, use, take advantage, ridicule, lie to and steal from.  It thrills them to convince themselves they are smarter than you to whomever they desire to impress, mostly themselves, with their quickness of mind and attache of predictable criticisms.

... Alyosha was convinced that there was not a man in the world who would wish to offend him or, for that matter, could offend him.  He had accepted that once and for all as a self-evident truth, and so he had no misgivings ... The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky

Love people simply cannot be offended.  They may experience a brief confusion during attack since any attack worthy of your attention contains truth upended, as in a full polar shift, but the fundamental mind/body of a love person always understands from where and why any attack comes.  It comes from buried pain experienced somehow, somewhere in vague flickers of the past belonging to an attacker, deep, unrealized and covered over with layer upon layer of dirt and drivel burying any hope reality could possibly surface as long as this thing we call western civilization with all of its ridiculous trappings exists.  In order for a departure in reality to prevail, you need a military industrial economy with attack personalities designated, among themselves, as official pack leaders.  You need a common mindset of Possession, a sort of me only wrongheaded survival tactic writ large, very, very large, large enough to present an overall appearance of total agreement that by necessity black is white and vice versa.

It was never a good plan to purchase control of human lives, translated for the incurious as "aid" when the real strategy all along has been funneling Earth's resources to distant locations where there are slim to none.  It was a guarantee that given enough time, the plan would self-destruct.  Everything not borne from reality destructs with enough latitude - which is where we find ourselves today.  When virtual reality falls, everything goes with it into the Black Hole, there is no discrimination.  So few, perhaps no one at all, have any idea how to replace the social order of corruption with a mutually beneficial cooperation between ourselves and the planet, i.e.; reality.  We think we know, but reality will prove us wrong. We don't actually know anything for certain. Leadership authorizing possession of entire peoples is a tried and true impossibility.  Fairness and cooperation with Nature could have only been possible starting from the day the composition of the Earth spawned life, not now.  Reality has been made silly, vulnerable to ridicule and punishment, punishments insisting on your allegiance and dependence on what mankind has made of itself, a bloated monster killing machine looting, thieving, possessing and controlling, incessantly reproducing variants on the theme with petroleum-based, easily breakable and lost, tiny, seemingly insignificant plastic parts and variations of zeitgeist languages and mores that have lost any semblance of reality whatsoever, the more reality attempts emergence, the more omnipresent the tubes, tubed band aids on top of soul gashing wounds fracking through the globe. 

The categorization of phenotypes, skin colors and nationalities, the fiction of borders and property divisions, credit ratings, purchasing power and the swarms of fantasy industries and localized dictatorships that arise in the crevices like roach infestations, feeding off the primary illusory elements, only lead us deeper into make-believe. Tinseltown's red carpet, high style, creative direction, sports figure idolatry, bargain bonanzas, tweeting, political partisanship, speeches, anthems and invocations, amazing stuff, isn't it?  And all of it beholden to boardroom charts.  Love people could definitely waver in this never-ending torrent of idiocy emulated throughout the globe, but it won't last indefinitely.  The stagelights are dimming under the heat generated by their bizarre creations, oversexed-over-population and over-consumption.  At this moment we're seeing a glistening thick Roy G. Biv climate chaos rainbow breaking over the horizon through the once impenetrable fog of sheer nonsense.  Something is downloading as we speak and its not what it initially appears, it is impossible to define until it shows itself in full.

We do not need psychedelics to understand this.  We only need quiet thoughts, and we need to remain aware of those thoughts so they are not fleeting.  The co-opted psychedelia, the personalities, the raves and the newer, evermore powerful reality alterations have been reigning down upon our culture in phosphorescent colors, stealing our attentions and robbing all under the influence, further distorting lives in a distorted, disoriented world.  While we were entertained with sumptuous pleasures, we inadvertently added to the foolishness, only in this way can we bear some responsibility.  Little did we realize or care we were being taken advantage of in broad daylight as dawn rose in the west and the appearance of normalcy still stood even though we knew it couldn't possibly be so, but it was.  As the years passed and keeping up with the insanity "culture" continued enlarged, the vulnerability of the little people was ripe for the take.  If they could get away with it here and there, why not do it again! Its happened so many times we cannot count them all or ever know of most of them, they are excluded from "education" and media, but this time it is different.  Through massive overpopulation we have exceeded the planet's carrying capacity yet the pillars of extreme possession stand firmly in place to ensure the continuity of over-consumption. This is the new reality.  The kinds of deviations and concealments practiced now will never have an opportunity to reoccur after they self-extinct and as you have noticed, they are self-extincting at this very moment and for some reason known only to the Forces, we are in the middle of it all. 

I'm not so sure there is any cause to celebrate or inch towards optimism.  What I'm seeing in the sudden protests in so many locations suggests foment by an entity behind them all desirous of removing less cooperative, leeching dictators and replacing them with younger, less expensive, fresh puppetry ready to acquiesce to their masters in a fashion similar to Wall Street rotating its heavy muscle from private enterprise to the halls of the superpower.   The repeating irony of these revolutons in the hearts and minds of the participants are pitted against what people think they want (or what they've been tutored to demand) and what people actually need. Added to this irony is the gross reversal of the people's real primary needs into leaderships' agenda, always helped along through behind-the-scenes finagling, with foreign policies coming at them from all sides, creating an untenable situation because again, they are not based in reality.

They are based in obsequious transference of wealth and finite resources.  Reality is health, reality is enough nutritious food to sustain the body, clean air, fresh unadulterated water, the fruits of Mother Earth for all species on the planet, trusting relationships with family, friends, the world at large including animals, sea creatures and bird life, legal stewardship of Nature, moderation in all things and the God given freedom to live in a peaceful state without interference and love, in all the ways that matter to you, loving the Earth, loving mankind, loving your activities, loving the land enough to refrain from overbuilding, love of our fellows enough to do unto others as you would have them do unto you, love of our offspring enough to leave them a lovable world so they too may love life enough as it is without costuming it or dividing it or trampling it according to the dictates of possession and its abusive dangling participles, fear and punishment.

So blind and far along in the madness, exponentially encouraging the Culture of Extinction (thanks, Charles) with vanity and pompous over-consumption, reduced to never ending war for the survival of the fantasy in the very face of undeniable climate chaos, our battle appears futile, but while we won't see much progress, it is of huge consequence. Even if the planet doesn't make it, Bondye se gade, Creole for God is watching, as are his other inhabitants of the Universe.

Let's say for discussion purposes, that God isn't watching.  If you are an authentic love person grounded in the reality of what IS, it would not change anything for you, because the power is your own, within, to love, to nurture, to understand, to feel for others, to care and to give whatever you have in any way you can.  You would have long ago accepted your own strength of character, once and for all time, as self-evident truth.

the carpet too, is moving under you

...You must leave now
Take what you need you think will last
But whatever you wish to keep
You better grab it fast... 
Bob Dylan

According to recent weather updates, from the extreme eastern regions of So-Cal, up and across the Southwest and throughout the Great Plains region, ballooning north, south and east, on into whiny Manhattan and the Great North beyond, a two by four is attempting to awaken the slackers.  I say whiny Manhattan because only in Overpopulation would New Yorkers be moved to speak up about their streets.  (Ever tried to cab cross-town midday?)  It used to be that losing one's vehicle in the snow was so freekin' normal you just got down to business and found the right lump.  Personally, I enjoy those kinds of activities. They're sort of mysterious and compelling, a game you usually win, the somewhat slim chance of loss drives you to win.  Its not addicting, it is the rarity, not your every day miracle, although to car thieves and the underground parts industry, heavy snow, mass disaster in general, is miraculous opportunity.

We who still have functioning electrical power know already how weather is poised to be Egypt's alternate story.  So many questions, so much hurt, too many people, no solutions.  Of course, there are big solutions available, but after all these long years of hearing about peace and stability, ever ask yourself what that really means?  It means free and unfettered reach to do as one pleases.  It means purchasing a situation where the world's populations silently turn over every resource the energy whales require without uttering the slightest dissent which is impossible given human nature.  You cannot remove the small portion of Earth upon which a man stands without him falling down.  You cannot take away his right to stand up and yet this is what is going on wherever a foothold can be bought.  Once again the markets rear up in defiance, Moody's downgraded Egypt and the markets were shut down hoping to quell the flight of liquidity which will only worsen when they reopen.  This is how the world works and their last hope at that unfettered free reach.  It works sometimes, in some already barren, beaten down places because people need to eat, but considering the unrest in Egypt was called for by a 28 year-old girl using Facebook, the youth of this planet is about to put a stop to all the whipping humans experience worldwide simply trying to survive. Jah praise the yout.

... Egypt and the country's military have grown accustomed to American support and will want the money to keep flowing. It is the flow of this money that ensures the purchase of the replacement government. Because the US dollar is the world reserve currency, the US government has financial dominance and the ability to financially isolate other countries ... Paul Craig Roberts

Enough of that.  Inevitable is inevitable.  Anyone reading this far is prepared to think on their feet, right?  Don't let me be a downer, but the fantasy is never the reality. And no doubt a part of you was positive you were exempt.  No little person is exempt, you should know that by now.  There is no WHO fanfare concerning this disease, no Rumsfeld vaccine, not now when everybody is wiping the sleep from their eyes.  They may not yet have the details in order and maybe they will never see the whole picture, but people naturally question and wonder - how it ever got to be this way.  It is due to the selective bulletins, the omissions, the twisting of evil into the language of altruism, that chemtrails are suspect as well.  And now HAARP.  When was the last time anyone revealed what's up on Diego Garcia?  On days like this, after hearing Hoseme try to see out his term by watered-down compromise, everything is up for question.  The disease is collectively so much farther along than you or I could possibly imagine.  These are people from another parallel having invaded ours and now insist on sticking around and driving humanity into oblivion.  They wrecked their original parallel with this behavior, no lessons were learned, that mindset is unable to perceive lessons.  They exist to destruct.  They are completely immune to pain or suffering.  They look human, but that's just a trick of blending into our parallel to better spread their psychosis.  You might say this is nonsense, but what is happening throughout the world is equally as nonsensical.  In order to understand, you have to forget everything you ever thought previously and get weird.  Nothing logical is logical anymore.  Every road a cul de sac, a detour looping from nowhere to nowhere.

I don't want to waste our time talking about them. It gets too heavy, too distracting, too quickly, it will kill you if you allow it to through mere overload of evil costuming itself in western dress, pearls and Jane Harmon's platinum frosted do.  When you are dragged to the doctor no one will believe what happened, blaming your condition on your shabby lifestyle and lack of mandated health insurance.  Never mind you were occupied by force far away from any choice on your own where you cried out for assistance time and again and no one in a position to help ever heard a peep.  In fact, your peeps were stifled intentionally for statistical charting purposes.  You existed nowhere on any chart published by any entity, without apology you do not count because if you did you might be heard and they can't have that.  I do not expect lasting change for the Egyptian people or for anyone actually. Humanity is up against too many stacked decks and shifty characters pulling out all the stops.  There is no such thing as a half win.  The people standing up have our admiration and our support, the problem is too many things have to happen before there will ever be a genuinely united win, we are not the deciders of fate at this moment, the deciders are still casting fate.  Just how much casting takes place is revealed more literally by the hour.  Financial weapons of mass destruction are the first and last resort in deciding fate and will not give up, hardened as they are, just as the truth behind that 2001 moment of reckoning will never be brought to light.  Its all related, one action leads to another and ripples out into the atmosphere poisoning survival of the species.  Were we born into this world only to die correcting it? If you are passionate about your life experience, that may well answer the question of life itself.  Why are we here, now?  We could have been reincarnated into any previous or future time and would we find the same situations, patterns, repeating as cells split, multiply and split again?  Is it all merely science?  If it doesn't work out in Egypt, where will it work out?  And what will it take?  I realize we greatly credit Orwell already with wisdom and vision beyond the typical mind, but likely he saw this day coming in a way few, if any, have ever willingly put to paper.  It is unusual no religions have sprung up around his insights, perhaps because it isn't exactly lucrative, although Orwell's observations came to pass while a so-called civilized world went along with it, willingly, even greedily, begging for more. Apparently no one wants to create a magachurch dedicated to the police state although it still could happen, if, and that's a big IF, there were time for it to happen.  At some point, climate chaos takes over and all the plans of the Wetikos will be buried under the scramble.

Allow me to briefly move away from the horrors and misery imprisoning little people everywhere.  The Mustang princess Stella, is back from boarding during those climate chaos rains that muddied up her apartment.  They plaited her mane  She's grown the most amazing winter coat, its fur.  Imagine chestnut fur with her blond mane and two white diamonds on her forehead.  I'm going to be the official photographer when she goes into labor.  Yes, of course, I will post the best ones.  Chip, the Appy, went to a relative's farm which is very cool, his old stomping grounds.  It seems with animals especially, we have to recognize that we will miss them, but love is wanting the best for them. 

Gosh, I almost got away from the Wetikos there.  I'd so rather involve myself into what's happening with the animals.  Its the animals' non-verbal communication and their appearance, its spare, its exactly functional for exactly what each animal requires and no more, no shoe fetishes, no preening in the zeitgeist pyramid, its a lifetime of come-as-you-are.  Now to get back to the dark side ... oh, let's not.  Its an important move to dedicate some portion of your day to your animal family including livestock.  Take them herbivore/grazer treats, hays, carrots and apples.  Never doubt your friendship.  Be as affectionate as possible.  Just like any friendship, go slow and see how it develops.  This can all be simplified by just saying use your manners.  If you don't have manners, I can't help you.  I probably could, but I wouldn't want to. 

Between the the catastrophes of climate change and Egypt, that should be enough, but its obviously not.  It never is now.  This is real, my friends.  Multiples of happenings growing towards some distant, final crescendo.  I don't know about you, but I grab the good stuff where I can.  If there is something beautiful taking my full attention, so be it.  We are typing on varying sizes and styles of little boxes that can give us any detail of anything we'd ever want to know, anywhere, what is far more fascinating and real exists outside, offline.  Kindle that.  In your life, are there not moments of clarity every now and then in which you see yourself?  There is no technology, at least not yet - which means never, that can bring that around.  Wherever there is revolution, the people in revolt have gone deep within themselves, each one of them, to recover spiritually for without awareness there is nothing.

fever in the funk house

... Work and work for love and sex
Ain't you hungry for success, success, success, success
Does it matter? (Shattered) Does it matter?...
M. Jagger | K. Richards

It may be the wrong time to make a new entry here, or not.  Comments are still rolling along on the last one, I'm enjoying them, but we hardly talk about the posts, we always stray.  Therefore, I appreciate it when someone refers to the post in their comment, although that in no way negates the amazing things passing across our horizon having little to do with anything posted on this page that come around on each post's comment page.  I know I am just as guilty of going off topic as you are.  Our interests are remarkably varied and who can deny the abundance of things that require group discussion, especially in the Revealing?  A perfect example of what I mean would be Susanah's "home school or unschool" dilemma, or our Rasta's mastery of survival on his rain-riddled Jamaican property. This so called "blog" in more than a few ways is a mystery to me.  It almost self-sustains.  In the past, when comments slowed to a halt, I took it as a sign it was time to speak up.  Now, I don't know.  It is just a feeling that those who lurk and never break into the conversation would like to see something in this space, more than links to other blogs, more than changing art and photos.  And by this time, the other feeling that interferes with the first, I've learned that this is the wrong time of day to do what I find myself doing.  I have routines, like taking Bernie out, taking a treat to Chip the Appaloosa, bringing wheelbarrows of logs to the deck for easy reach as evening temperature drop and drop ... however, that gets solved in the same manner as always, I'm going to skip and jump around.  It may all turn out incomprehensibly off the wall as each new paragraph has nothing to do with the last, since I will likely recall  something important while pulling Bernie the Basset, translated bred  to be a bunny hunter, away from his intended prey.  I usually come to you late at night after the house is sleeping.  Today, I'm taking advantage of the last few mild days of fall before the snow descends and Arctic parkas must be snapped and zipped before stepping into the fog.  Besides, there is just too much to nail down in one post.  Its too much.  Overkill kills.  Life is now some low budget late night Halloween horror flick where the dude's head spins and his eyeballs fall in and out on springs as Darth inflicts perfectly legal steroidal blows drawing blood, prolapsing organs.

Charles is right again when he says what we have here is special.  Do you know how comfy it is to be able to say "my hard drive meltdown" and have everyone know what I mean?  BTW, our beloved bolanath is in that Vanilla Sky free fall at this time as well, but he assures me he has it under control for a soft landing.  Techology has its flaws.  Every now and then one of us crashes hard and it disrupts everything in our routines.  Then we gotta scramble and think and rework our values - again.  I still have not completely recovered having lost my very tidy painting system by way of the dog chewed printer cord, the loss of photoshop, hundreds of important links and only the Creator knows how many people's email addresses were fried.  But when we want something badly enough, we make do.  We workaround.  All of life is a workaround.  Tedious, laughable, infuriating, but bolstered by a barrier I refuse to cross which is that of regret over our personal tragedies, losses, unfortuate circumstances which are usually unfortunate only to us.  When that waste of energy creeps up, its best to concentrate on Haiti and Pakistan and earthquakes and floods and cholera and the idiocy of abundant medical supplies locked up only released to victims by having an official review of the paperwork generated by a healthy caseworker who takes no for an answer.  Lunacy.  Heartbreaking.  Are these things by design?  I don't know.  I only know from a few experiences with people who do casework and all of them were amazingly negligent personalities who resolved nothing.

The local and distant voting brawls are in crescendo this week.  I'm getting at least two pounds of glossy coated stock squeezed into the rural gangbox daily.  The printers and paper manufacturers and shippers are making a killing off this stuff.  My tip to them in order to further enrich themselves would be to haunt municipal dumps and recycle the trash. 

The only one I actually opened was one from the Meg Whitman circular file stack because she included photos of herself as a youth.  She was actually a beautiful young woman, you could see dreams in her eyes portrayed as a person of high integrity and inviolate truths.  And now, look what happened.  It is beyond sad that someone running for office is so desperate they resort to advertising their gubanatorial potential through depictions of a blond bombshell representative-self that no longer exists.  Is that how we got Arnold?  Mister muscle moviestar?  Is that how we got Obama?  When its all said and done is it just all (secretly) about physical appearances?  This is too gauche to mention, isn't it.  And Sarah Palin, murderer of wildlife?  This is what I meant about politicians being celebrities, they've managed to edge over the celebrities of tinseltown, it is fairly recent, likely by way of course, with shows like the repulsive, loud and painful Cops and broke municipalities scarfing at the stockyard auctions.  Rulers must rule or they are not rulers at all and will be subject, like everyone else, including wealthy actors/actresses, to the rules.  Sorry to bring that up, all the pillars of our old social order crumbled.  Every once in a while a ruler crosses the line into being ruled as a show there isn't really any discrimination to it, but you'll notice these marks victims are all back in action in the semi-elusive time frame of the short memory media as if no one really toe-tapped in the men's room or made love to someone not his lawful wife on a powerboat gliding over Bahamian waters.  Such Monkey Business is just another part of the new normal.  If you pay attention you'll see what I mean.  In the days of real rulers, people were drawn and quartered for less.  Now, in the new normal, astounding heights of real wrongdoing are on display every single day and the rulers of every stripe show themselves affected fundamentally with a necrotic case of double standards.  Why would anybody want to be a ruler?  Why would anyone spend billions on becoming a ruler?  It means they have completely lost their humility which explains a lot about the rules and the new rules they so love to create in showing their possession of ruling power.  Rules which change Nothing for the incessant flow of our collective humanity funneled into the pockets of those rulers breathing-in that rarified oxygen wafting across the pinnacle of civilization's most magnificent achievements.  No my friends, we live in Nancy Grace world these days, our new normal sponsored by Mussolini's nightmares and Jim Jones final hours.  I predict a drug will be introduced at some time in the not too distant future that wipes out memory, although the overload of media might well be that drug.  It bears all the hallmarks ... one trick to overcome the soma (In "Brave New World" (1932), the name of a state-dispensed narcotic producing euphoria and hallucination.) is go right to the last paragraph where it says something like the informant-turned-criminal cooperated with instructions.  Another would be to ask yourself "Does it physically hurt your own head when a protester's head is smashed by boot-stompings against the pavement?" 

A particularly irksome flaw in technology's short lifespan beyond the breakability of plastic parts and overheating CPU fans is the immediacy with which it outdates itself.  In spite of all the claims and rave reviews and beta tests and glowing comparisons to competitor products, it still isn't enough.  It must spawn new versions or become obsolete as unrealistic growth projections demand more - even though targeted consumer blocks are broke and looking towards hyperinflation.  We saw this interestingly with the extinction of XP (gone for good alert), replaced by Vista replaced by WIN7 while Chrome advertises on our websearches.  We saw this with the VCR.  We see this with cell phones as videocams and qwerty keyboards for those who can't text fast enough before their thoughts evaporate.  You might notice that the people associated with these advances are morphing into celebrity personalities worthy of headlines and entire sections in the media.  HP boss come lately caught in sexual harrassment allegations, oh, Meg Whitman would never do that.  We are to think she is the rare irreplaceable, ruler in waiting.

Its all too much to cast the Indigenous Grandmother's healing Net of Light over all of them and our remaining resources, although its certainly worth trying.  I have found through various efforts the best time to do it is when you begin meditation.  Actually, it takes you  into meditation as you are in tune with one love, one heart, relaxed in limb and wide open in mind.  Its best to do it in darkness, moonlight is good as are stars whether you are outdoors or inside.  There is something about the dark that allows the trillions of tiny lights within the net you are envisioning that illuminates and throws down negative forces, falseness, paltry and petty cancers of the soul, the growing void of living, loving, innocent bounty thriving on this planet.  The Net seems to work for everything you direct it toward, healing, compassion and overstanding.

And now, I hear the beginning of rumblings as the males ask in their various approaches, guinea pig wheeks, dog paws, nosings at the ankle, the Fireteacher peering into the fridge, "What's for dinner?"  I say a grace tonight for all those who have nothing to eat.

... end transmission ...

Post title from Exile on Main Street, Jagger | Richards

an evening in the Revealing

It is disturbing to see what is happening with the elections coming up on my geographic horizon.  The subscription TV which the fireteacher pays good money for out of his hard-earned chipster cheque is showing Arnie Terminator/Twins flicks through the night, every night.  Hey dudes, where's my Battle of Algiers, my Wild Pacific, my Spike Lee post-Katrina documentary?  No question over which side the satellite hovers.  How much did THAT cost?

And just where was Arnold while Georgio Armani Angelo Mozilo displaced the citizenry of our nation, quickly bleeding across the oceans destroying the peace of mind of westernized peoples worldwide?  (Think on that name: country-wide for a minute, ah such grandiose fantasies of pre-Elizabethan professional executioners have nothing on what heights are reached in our new millennium. (In fact, the Elizabethan age was one followed by many years of peace and prosperity, it is well known the Virgin Queen loved her people more than herself.)  It wasn't so long ago we had Gray Davis as governor who apparently bombed with the populace despite Enron's miserable  meatless ending.  The press ran Gray through the shredder under pressure from the you-know-whos. The press runs everybody through the shredder now since its their job to shred regardless of pressure. You see, they learned their lessons well.  For shame.  The truth is nobody can run this place, or any place, definitely not Meg Whitman, heh, just wait till she meets up with the local fruits & nuts overpopulating the west coast or worse, has to balance the state budget, the classic gubernatorial demise.  As soon as budget time rolls around, the shredder starts humming and it hums along through years and years of tears.  And, yes, Whitman's already denying her personal nannygate, exposed by none other than her X'd illegal immigrant housekeeper, but what really got me was something she said quite a while ago which was "I believe marriage is between a man and a woman."  She really said it.  Everything that came after that might as well have fallen on deaf ears, the blow was struck, the character naked for all to see and mind you, do we really want more X or "on leave to serve at the pleasure" CEOs in government?  No thanks, Meg, I won't be voting.  I will be among the millions all of you and yours lost with your expensive press-released, personhooded campaigns blessed by our highest court.  We have been burned so many times in state and national elections why ask for it outright?  Hey, gimme more idyllic penury huh?  And a little less room to just be, why don't ya? Fruits and nuts don't eat.  Yes, I know, voting is my Constitutional right to exercise so I exercise my right to protest by withholding.  The question is:  Do we prefer a candidate who lies all through the campaign or one who lies all though his/her tenure in office?  That's like saying we have a choice, isn't it, paper or plastic...
Oh well, nina, you could vote for Brown, right?  No.  His aide (um hmm) called Meg a whore.  I guess its the dirty politicking, the displays of concealed corruption and vast amounts of money spent on self promotion all the while attempting to hide one's true character.  All that money could be put to SUCH good use on improvement of the state and country and our species' survival.  For shame, again.  Are these people human beings or holograms or socio-hybrid aliens?  You tell me.

On my sojourns through God's Kingdom lately, the landscape is littered with peeling, weather-beaten campaign signs.  I try to get away from it and go deeper, farther and leave it behind where the neighboring mountains appear grey-green at the base, a lighter green-grey behind it and a higher, pale lavender grey-green ridge in the far distance.  Mist rises from the base of the far lavender ridge graduating to deeper grey at the top where it meets the clouds.  The mist means fog is coming on which means summer is over, winter opened its window and frost lies on the ground at dawn.  Its just a quick slide into wood gathering, stacking, hauling into the fireplace from there, although we never got started so early before.  I keep my eye on it.  First snow is always on Thanksgiving, but this year it could happen any day.  The Elk began bugling at the end of August.  That never happened so early before either.  Actually, this is a wonderful thing because the cold, wet night air (humidity) limits the probability of wildfires.  Lastly, as was the case in 2009, the Juncos are late by many weeks. The weather conditions must be just right for them to make the journey south and apparently, it is not.  I think in my mind its the air quality.  The belching filth of big agra is easily mistaken for fog coming through the passes.  Indeed, it is that surreal.  It was not always that way.  I remember.  I made notes in my Smithsonian guides.

The housing, foreclosure, low - if any - new home sales crisis reminds me of the GOM crisis.  The blowout preventer was broken as it was broken in the market crisis, or the credit crisis, or the ... etc..  Sort of like 911 too, each crisis militarily industrializes afterwards.  We keep having 911 disasters with eternal effects upending the previous story.  We know from reading stories there must be an ending somewhere, but there isn't.  Most everyone is still living the old story whether they are an unrepentant shopaholic or a Nigerian child selling sodapop in the mud to the pipeline police.  Even when attempts are made to reform corruption, the corrupt make the new story instantly throwing everyone and everything into deeper, darker, more terrifying and uncertain futures and still the story goes on.  The ever-changing, ever-enlarging story is a way of life now, as if the anomalies of the present are all that ever was or will be.

The courts are already backlogged, imagine what sheaths of complaint are hitting the desks today from all those who were foreclosed and evicted or threatened with the process, and all those who bought those foreclosed dwellings, ahem, illegally?  What a scene: the angry millions forcing their ways through the McMansion doors demanding their homes back from alarmed young couples feeding baby number one in the breakfast nook?  What are they gonna do in this economy, double up? Oh why not, they'll learn to get along just like we do, but they won't be happy about it until they win their lawsuits.  As we watch an entire new industry is being born, the graduation of Robo Signers to Paper Seekers tasked with unwrapping all the CDOs and sifting through xeroxes of xeroxes to find something that is probably lying under the mattress in Polanski's chalet if it actually exists, legitimate titles of home ownership and legitimate titles to commercial properties that is, not the mattress.  We only know one thing for sure at this point and that is: Everyone has again stepped on yet another rung of the Apocalypse ladder where nothing is what it seemed and all hell is breaking loose from the shylocks to the cowboys on bar stools looking for love in all the wrong places. There's a big range in between consisting of the colorful variety of Planetary Citizens.

There are many things I can handle as weird and strange as some things are, because I am not in that world. It does not concern me or the immediate members of this existence.  The man, me, the Guinea Pig, the Dogs, these are the beings whose interests are my interests.  The relatives and our children are the collective ribbons that complete the package.

Have you ever thought about being a survivor from a shipwreck, floating on a very small section of what is left of the lifeboat's hull, whom out of all those faces treading water would you reach for? 

On the other hand, when it comes to causing deliberate pain to our people in the larger sense, it burns, it scathes, it maims for life and kills as it does all victims whether they know what is happening or not and this is not acceptable.  One day its a feeling, then its a blurb at a news site, by evening the blurbs have their own wiki page.  And then, like the dark season, suddenly its upon us full steam ahead and we rearrange our existence again.  Suffering can be very good when you can, if you can, compare it to other states yet that also is being denied wherever possible.


Cufflinks photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images N.A.: Angelo Mozilo, founder and former CEO, Countrywide Financial Corporation, testifying during a House Oversight and Government Reform hearing ... examining the compensation and retirement packages granted to the CEOs of corporations deeply involved in the current mortgage crisis.

Useful Tools

The Fireteacher assembled some of his impressive garage sale acquisitions for me to photograph (his photography, his "eye", is renowned among those familiar with his work) and post here today. So, I turned the lens over to him. I only know what a small few of these tools are named and what they do, I'm asking the chippies visiting here to identify them. (This includes Lurking Chippies.) It took a number of uploads because after The FT got going, he gleefully upped the level of rarely used, but important items which he convinced me should be a part of the Accomplished Chippy's Inventory. Heh, just as I thought he had to be finished, out would come another medieval looking device, Perhaps, I wondered, for the interrogation of heretics?

Fortuitously, his years in collecting useful tools has value as currency in any economy or no economy and as such, further encourages him to wade through eBay for entire weekends as well as comb the countryside for garage sales. Mind you its not just any garage sale, its got to be a crumbling farm house front yard with rusting plows and scattered thresher parts. Its got to have items for sale spilling over the saggy front porch and must be crowded with lots of older men wearing overalls milling about as well as restored Studebaker trucks and Trail Boss trailers with haystraws sticking out between the slats just in case something big needs moving out.

He is curious if my chippies know their stuff. He is pretty sure he's in a class by himself so I caution you to research your answers before commenting. I'm sure he'll be around to check your work because this is a subject in which he has much interest. Although, it is up to you to decide if that interest concerns tools of the trade, your familiarity with them or making a superior comment or all of the above.

There will be a test. Not.

I'd seen these "things" coming into the house and grabbed the digital which was how this blog quiz got started. It seems to me that the man who possesses these tools and uses them with an expert's confidence is going to be THE go-to guy in this small and local, goods for services, economy we are entering.

I once criticized my best friend for having too many cleaning gadgets flowing from her overflowing closets. Her response was, "I'm a believer in the right tool for the right job." Well, that about says it all, doesn't it.

Come to think of it, she and the Fireteacher have a lot in common. Must be why I've spent so much of my life in their lives over the years.

We're not going to have any newsy items today because I am sick of them. I am sick of these elections and sick of them concealing what we're doing to the Pakistanis and the Afghanis. And the Fallujans, yes, the Fallujans. I am sick of Monsanto and BP , sick of peak deniers, sick of morphing statistics and what the pundits have to say while nobody else can get a word in edgewise. I get embarrassed for the people interviewed. And annoyed (saddened, brought down, you know ... ) the bumpkins suck it up like pork gravy while unable to afford their own healthcare, dentists for their children or vets for their animals. Imagine not knowing why you are juggling when you are juggling?

Disclaimer Newsflash: its called Obamacare and the winning party plans on reforming the "reforms" just as soon as they move the clock back to the original Bu-ad years. Which side is the Laureate community organizer on anyway? Maybe it will come to you as you are identifying tools. You don't have to research that one too extensively to know which way the wind blows.

Worst of all I've lost faith that any change will ever take place. When there is no oil and no money, they will still keep it up because their values do not change in spite of their circumstances. Whatever they think they want to come from all the shenanigans will only serve to make them want more. There is no end to it. Even if everything they push for came to fruition (a complete fantasy, sheer folly), there are others just like them on the way pushing harder, recreating, it should be this way, or that way, whichever way that suits them for whatever cushions their high lives in the villa of the season where conscience is muffled in Peacock feathers and softly whispering servants. Each time the helijets touch down on an Agean roof pad, another Indian farmer-husband-father takes his own life.

- - - - them and the horse they rode in on. (from the Changeling)

Meanwhile, let's live up right and share, exchange, enjoy, do no harm, worship the animals , the birds and the creatures of the sea, be genuine with one another and feel as good and get as healthy as we can. Think through your depressions so you are not operating from a compromised position and give everyone the benefit of the doubt whenever possible. Make the first move towards friendship at least as often as we make the changes we need to survive this journey. Reach deep down and share your soul every day through "inside to outward awareness" vs. "outside, taken inside, materialism, i.e.; upside down and backwards". If you understand this, you can do it. Don't desire recognition, you can do that for yourself if you require it. It is the only worthy recognition anyway. It is very helpful to never think about it at all, it has no place in what ultimately must be, if there is to be anything. In my humble opinion and I know nothing, doing the right thing, which is love, is all that matters and that is where our focus for the future fundamentally lies.

There will always be a place for you on Earth, but we have to make that place individually, with our skills, our tools, our involvements and our attitudes. If the chippies cannot identify everything shown in the photos, fear not. Within the next decade you will be working with your hands using tools much like these and loving it - unless you plan to expire from misery, isolation and starvation. And unless somebody purchased the rights to start fracking the ground upon which you stand.

... end transmission ...

post photos: c. the Fireteacher 2010

Apocalypse daily

A few years ago some people would have looked at the barnyard in our frequently changing title art/photoworks and thought "I could never live like that." Even though I would never have thought it, having climbed up and down the ladder of wealth numerous times, our fellow countrymen and women would be fortunate to live even near such a place. Yes, the great come uppance for wealth snobbery has landed. By and large, it goes about its BAU unrecognized, while the cache vaporizes like chemtrails vanishing.

It is shocking that some remain oblivious. It looks like they just don't know what to do so they ignore it and go on as if everything is always as it was and ever will be. You have to wonder, what do they say to each other behind closed doors? Especially the elements that rely on their representative selves to do the thinking and verbalizing. It must be cause for a great deal of confusion and miscommunication. An interesting line I heard recently goes something like this: I am not afraid of you or what you do, it is your secret thoughts that concern me.
No doubt mind reading software is being tweaked and contracted as we read this.

In the New World its generally not helpful to make comparisons with the old world, besides, what was that old world, really? All the pillars supporting the new order were being sculpted. Masterfully brick by brick, program and mandate by program and mandate. Some knew it would eventually come to this, but as a rule, those who know are lobbied, tortured, ridiculed or deprived into knowing nothing or scandalized, so deep run the generational goals. Many events we thought were one thing turn out to be something else entirely, something far worse.

Does this sound like a world you want membership in? A world where nothing is as it seems or is stated to be? The change has not been as gradual as we are led to think. I can't speak for all of you, whatever signs you picked up that placed you into your current situations are unique. In my own life its usually been one door slams as another swings open - very stark, not a lot of room to ask why, this is because most of my changes have been geographical. Nature has been the most helpful that way. I have this rich interior life with Nature, but am usually a quiet, nearly closed person because most people are not interested in hearing someone else speak unless it somehow serves the illusion of their representative self. This is one of the worst features of our wonderful western society, the incessant me-ism, the absolute right of the individual to be heard and understood over all others needing to be heard and understood. Might I add this has not done us a lot of good. A common example of this particular attitude is the behavior illustrated by typical political pundit Chris Matthews, a highly paid TV news celebrity specializing in out-talking, shouting over, his guests. It is an intellectual affliction, perhaps a disorder and imitated in all levels of social intercourse in our western Capitalist corporately dictated world of haves and have nots. If you accidentally come across a blaring TV, you are a have not and likely a want not as well. If you seek this stuff out and salivate over every word, I don't know what you are, maybe a freak fan, maybe a jerk. And yet, these shows have heavy sponsorship. Someone is really out there purchasing the products emblazoned across your wide screen, thrilling to possession, feeding their representative selves who egg them on to greater and greater expenditures of liquidity they do not have, did not earn and now, never will. Even if something fantastical comes about where suddenly pennies flowed forth from the Heavens, no lessons would have been learned, everything that went down as it has for the last decade will simply repeat itself in an uglier, more pronounced fashion. What would they do? They will hoard. And the hoarding, in secret behind high fences, will quickly deteriorate into an out of control situation exacerbating an already dangerous, deadly ignorance of the moment. We could see this, we are rather close, edging into it in the advancing Apocalypse - but possibly saved by a series of horrors dished up nonstop. It would be sweet to have a tape recording of our thoughts from fifteen years ago to compare to how we think now. Mine would be so innocent, even though I've been around the block, what I labeled evil then is commonplace today. In fact, I labeled nothing evil, there was only bad or good. Now we have noxious and reprehensible, egregious and heinous, satanic, perverse, monstrous, reptilian and so forth. Another feature I find particularly abrasive is the make work program as opposed to the do what you were gifted/designed to do as a human being alive on Mother Earth, the Living Planet with her perfect system ... I see it as almost "unavoidable linkage", one required activity leading to another and another until you discover one unhappy day that your entire existence is consumed with either avoiding the BS or working around the BS - all the while pressing to carve a space in time to do only what your body and your heart ache to be doing. You cannot just paint, get a snack and keep painting. No, you set everything up to paint and the cell delivers one of its ringtones while you search for the keys to the vehicle needing fuel to carry you to a giant box supermarket where it is designed to remove all other thoughts other than those of unending consumption. These seemingly innocent activities lead to a greater and more comprehensive beehive of mindless busywork, as I am sure you already know. What happened to the painting? Oh, why, its lost under the receipts, under the lists of what to buy, where to go, what needs repair, where your attentions urgently mandate placement rather than just putting color on nice French watercolor papers.

In the new world, you are no longer your own person. You do not own yourself or your body.

Today, you MAY own your thoughts, but we'll see how that looks next week or tomorrow, you never know exactly when because its all happening at breakneck speed. Things you forgot come screaming back at you - Oh yes, I'd forgotten about that one, heh, no stone unturned ... so many stones, egregious stones too. You should have known. Huge glaring similarities leading straight back to that multi-faceted root cause. You know the one, the root ball of the chain of Aspens that line the Snake River. Its all connected so said Scooter.

... I don't know when I realized the dream was over
Well, there was no particular hour, no given day
You know, it didn't go down in flame
There was no final scene, no frozen frame
I just watched it slowly fade away...

Waiting in the Weeds
written: D. Henley and S. Smith
lyrics

the state of the condition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

lying vampires from OZ

When you look at the civilization in which we are supposed to be members, like some sort of huge fraternal brotherhood of the human species, it always makes me ask what do we really think we are doing within such an arrangement? Whether we want to or not we are included in reforms and regulations, wars and hustles, when we actually reject them on the grounds of common sense, but have to go along with the hype anyway because its everywhere. You'd think if you see something everywhere, its got to be good for the species, right? And its your own lameness, laziness, ignorance or diverted attention that blinds you to the greatness of the supposed altruistic thing that is "everywhere"? You'll think maybe you were not paying attention and must be flagellated for refusing to kneel at the wonderments cascading down upon the brotherhood. Surely that punishment will catch up with you in its own time, we know that as the trickle down effect ... but it won't make you kneel, it will just make you work harder to unravel yourself from the brotherhood. What are they doing for YOU? Or your children? Or your loved ones, your friends and your treasured aquaintances? You'll want to say nothing or at least, not much, but that's not how it works when its working, as opposed to living large. Like blades of grass subject to the winds, we are bent this way today and that way tomorrow. And with each tornado a little more life is taken from each of us who are just going about the innocent business of living, producing and dying, all we were ever meant to be we are already, but according to the destructive winds of change that is never enough. There is always more heavy weather on the way. No matter how well you think you prepare, are you really a match for the Mob? Its a religion to end all other religions in which they see themselves as the creators.

We are asked to see the evil in our lives. We are made to bear the guilt for crimes in which we had no participation. Years after the fact we bear scars we didn't deserve that will never heal. We could say that the evil and crimes impacting us are designed with that effect in mind, as springboards for more of the same. After all, what is grass for anyway but to be trod upon, mowed down, grazed and consumed?

As the Earth's population explodes, so does the Mob proliferate. This gives us history on which to reflect that in less populated times, governments kept lower profiles, there were not as many of them and we experienced less trauma. My how things have changed.

Or have they? Maybe its us who have changed. A whipped and beaten people made deliberately stupid would change if only to avoid paying for their own demise.

We have come to expect anything to happen at any time. How many of you live like this? Drive like this? Walk like this? Question your every action wondering on the outcome and how it will be interpreted by complete strangers? It becomes habit. If it hasn't, you know it should be habit by now.

I am fond of my late Father's remark on these things, "F--- 'em, let 'em take a number." Recently, watching the film The Changling, I've also come to appreciate the line "F--- you and the horse you rode in on." I'm not the kind of person that would say these things offhand, but our world has changed. All credit to those who invented the lines I quoted, for they knew what we are just getting around to seeing.

We are totally on our own now in every respect. Orphan citizens. Wipe clean all your thoughts of how things were and start anew as if you never went to school or read a book or viewed TV. The catastrophes we've been expecting have already happened and we are in the aftermath acknowledging the mess. It appears too big to fix. Bernie Madoff ain't got nothing on the Mob or the winds of change, in fact, that was likely his downfall. Now in his cell, eyes wide open pondering his new friends from OZ, does he heel to the call of Patsy?

Since everyone who reads here also reads many of the sites on my blog list, you won't need links. You will recognize today's howl as a long comment that could have been made at any one of those locations. And made as well in sympathy with some few sites that do not have comments or have so many comments it is impossible to try to be a coherent voice in the anguished I's, me's, excuses and justifications, imaginary personas, hackers, wingnuts, lobbyists and so forth.

Its in the bloodlines now. You see, its not "When are they going to get it?" rather it is they are programmed to enslave.

red planet blue

Making the rounds of blogs is a lot like going to old gas stations. "Fillerup?" If you're vintage lucky these days, you might get a window job thrown in. If you are not, you won't bother to acknowledge with a comment, instead sashay on down the internet highway with your "hope" GPS steering you straight into the waiting arms of the cyber warriors. This begs the question of what it is that you are looking for. Want truth? Or do you want corn stalks? Whatever you are looking for is fuel for the warriors. Its the very act of looking that puts the creamed corn on their dinner tables. What does such employment pay, anyway? Have we reached the stage there aren't anymore jobs for Wal*Mart greeters and the masses are doing anything they have to in order to pay rent and taxes? Indeed, we have reached this plateau.

You can see this plateau perfectly by taking a cross country trip from the Pacific Ocean to Detroit. You'll be crossing extraordinary geography until you beltway your way around Denver and land in what they call the Prairie which flats into Joliet, not unlike OZ at all, btw, until you hit the flatter versions of Orange County madness, barrel-tiled, master-planned, underwater turnkey-tract burial grounds with paper shredders built into the breakfast nooks. The only real difference you might ascertain is these midwest master planners included basements which serve as outbuildings do in Affluencia, little storage units in the same decor as the primary dwelling, maintained for broken and extra everythings that inspire the Stephen Kings and Ann Rices and hot serial bloodlust terror TV ratings.

We are exactly where we glimpsed we would be. It is now. We saw it coming, the stages unfolding, the insertions of Mickey Mouse and Goofy on goofballs, the hand-wringing and hoping, but here we are anyway. Will it get worse, sure, why not? This is just today, one of many landings, tomorrow is another vacant prairie, a pause on the stairway which we're moving down step by step into the basement which has been in full view ever since the door was opened. Cyber warriors slide up and down the banisters, clocking your movements, taking names, documenting your participation in the processes to those who think they need to know. As if the state of western culture in these times isn't already known and the color is ...

If you don't know by now, your windshield needs a little rainex. There have been a thousand points of darkness moving us along in a hurried fashion lest anyone figure it out. No matter how much darkness though, the sun still shines in a few distant corners and always will. You can see that much when you look around from wherever you are looking. People make do with these times until these times emerge as different times. They will buy anything you give them if they don't know anything else for comparison.

We collectively possess a basis for comparison, do we not? Or are we just going to chalk it up to "life goes on" and go away quietly into those thousand point of darkness? Oh, I'm not agitating, actually I'm observing the inuring of civilization, master planned pretense on a level only 7 billion mouths could sustain, the perfect crime having taken place and no one has really gotten the goods on the largess of the scam, not even Spitzer, at least, not yet. We might even read about it someday and then go right back to our saved Solitare, oh, wait, you're probably into Minesweeper.

Bulletin Board: John at Survival Acres is back today for one powerful closing statement. It appears Neptune1 has kicked the habit for good.

"Doing the crosswords, turn off the phone ...

And I dreamed I'm on vacation."

... Addiction is a terrible thing. As the fifth day/night offline yawns on, everything I said in Sonata in D Minor is more true than ever. You don't want to hear about that, I know. Addicts are unable to tolerate the futility and self-destruction of what they are doing. I'm living with one mind here, the blog-mind and one mind out there, in the real world. In the real world, you easily see how the rise of credit in western civilization bonds like Bondo with the Internet. The addicted can't see that. They think all their information is safely stored online. Heh, wait until that day you cannot get to your email, or your bank account, or any search engines and all your little favorite places are in the broken box that has repair people laughing at you, seeing those beads of sweat break out on your forehead as the estimate goes higher. Why do they revel? Its their last chance, seriously, the price of laptops is so low, soon the repair people won't exist. Not that they were any good to begin with as addicts themselves, usually alkies. You know the signs. I have just a few stolen moments with you today, courtesy of the Firekeeper who I think feels a little sorry for me while catching his favorite dragster quartermile race, so I won't go into long descriptions. The race will be over soon and then, well, its goodbye again, friends. One day I will be back. I don't know when or how. It looks bad at this time, I see no way this situation can be remedied, not next week, not next year. Now, I am finding out what it is like to live without being a co-enabler.

Already I am sick of zombie-ing out in front of the TV thinking, thinking ... thinking how weird it is Detroit is the new New Orleans, have you noticed that? I lost touch with any "news" 5 days ago. I'm just distilling what I've seen so far, 10 years of "so far" and trying to make sense of it. First, one has to get past the "Why me?" and then rearrange your new life. Somehow, I'd managed to tie my painting into my blogging and now of course there is hell to pay. The digital is as useless as is the printer now. Everything was connected, and everything has come apart.

The Firekeeper has been trying hard to find a way to put me back into my addiction. As he scrolled through the financing options for new laptops, I couldn't help but see everything I've written here about the money economy roar up in front of us like the Beast of 666 breathing flames over my efforts to blast him with my Star Wars laser weapons. Once you appease him and allow his bloody claws into your bank balance, the door to the castle falls open over the moat and a thousand million hands arise from the flaming waters to drown you alive. Each purchase leads to another and then another, and there you are, everything you read about that is happening to other people is just waiting to happen to you. Everything in our New World is designed to operate on this system. If you elect to opt out, you will have nothing and be able to get nothing. If you opt in, you never realize the transition you've made.

Its quite a bit like Vanilla Sky. Life online is the Lucid Dream option. I like to think I have not really made my choice yet, I like to think there is a choice to be made, I'm standing on top of Rockefeller Center, the wind blowing in my face, wondering about it all. Its all that keeps me together right now. This must be happening to other people. I guess you might say I'm not ready to jump into real life all the way, except, there is always the except, I made my choice long, long ago, very willingly, too and am swirling in the vortex now. What we like to think and what is real are very different things.

I will be around, every now and then, probably during the next dragster quarter mile if I behave myself.
Maybe tomorrow, maybe never. In the meantime, I've got some painting to do. One thing that is interestingly becoming more and more obvious in this time of exceptional weirdness is human beings have a need to focus. Its a requirement in the same way food and shelter are required.

Bulletin Board: Sending love and get well wishes to Dadnerd. Belated greetings to Tex.

Fine tuning uncharted territory

I just had a synchronicity seeing the image of a swirling toilet bowl on the TV screen while thinking about Visible's post, Down the cosmic toilet bowl into the fires of hell. Synchronicity noted, we can certainly understand and share his sentiments. Its a crazy world getting crazier. We used to think there would be an end to it, at some point, few realized what a long slough it would turn out to be. Once you get the hang of observing, there is no end to the in-sanity.

For example, Dadnerd recently stated "... The ego wants, it desires, it is all about itself. ... It is an illusion." Thinking about that will direct you to the mystery chapter concerning a branch of medicine known as shrinking. You can see where this leads. It leads me right back to Joe Bageant's Escape from the Zombie Food Court. And more, right into Charles Eisenstein's Gathering of the Tribe who volunteered to solve the problems on Planet Earth. It leads to factual derealization (see Charles Hugh Smith's definition over there in the right column.) and empowers a phony representative self who leads you around on a choke collar. From Freud to green shoots to the Tuskeegee Experiment to the sandwich bagging of sample-sized shampoo, we were stuck in thought cages manipulating our breathing space.

If 911 never happened, how much longer would it have taken to reach an apocalypse, the unveiling? Where would we be now? All of our representative selves would be telling our egos we were missing a few screws. The derealization we experienced would have worked its evil and we'd be hoarders, living behind walls, broken appliances, engine blocks, maybe a school bus or two strewn around the place, swimming pool drained to a fishpond and penniless anyway since the debt meter is still running no matter what we do. No matter what they do. Shotgun marriages just don't work. Nothing works but love. The answer to everything, always, it never fails, does it? Love is all there is. Love is the beginning and the end of everything, you either get it completely or you utterly, spectacularly fail to see it.

On other planets there are love people, I am sure of this. Or maybe the Love Planet is in the Human Realm and we will be among our kind for thirty thousand years.

This program we've been subject to is a conundrum in that it distorts into multiples of fakery as it descends. A millenniums-long mass punking. There is no humor in it. Its too gory. There are no holds barred in the depravity of the program designers. You can actually watch its descent taking place as it accelerates down the charts or up the charts depending on what you're watching. Depression level - high, going higher. Retail sales - low, going lower.

There are only two ways to survive it. Ignore it and trudge onward in spite of it, ignorance is bliss, a limited plan, but available for survival through sheer happenstance. Or, the direct route, move into Plan B immediately. Everybody not ignoring the situation does not have the same Plan B, but we all make adjustments as required to insure our own Plan B's viability.

Last year I wrote we were surviving the brutal winters using only our fireplace for warmth. Despite having deleted my archives documenting why it was we chose this route, its worked out well and taught us the hard work of firewood collection is always going to be a year round activity. If you've never tried it, you wouldn't realize how quickly your stash is depleted. To be any good at at, you'll need fifty to one hundred times the firewood you'd imagine. As we move along with Plan B, what we've learned about wood banking parallels the quantitative need in storable foods. Never mind that clothing is the last on the list. You're going to be getting down and dirty, so threadbare tees and jeans with holes are the fashion of choice, if you have any choice at all. Eventually, your only concern will be surviving the elements.

Most of you reading this might find these words amusing while you are sitting in front of your freestanding, slim, liquid crystal display, feet on desk, cellphone earpiece active, secure in the knowledge the propane delivery truck is pulling into your home's drivway at this very hour. Okay, how long do you think that will last? Your tank probably holds a one month supply. And then what? How is your state doing? Your nation? Your community, you? Did the military industrial complex secure Iraq's vast oil fields?

I'm not going to attempt to convince anyone of anything here. People always have to find out the hard way anyway. That's the worst way to go about survival which we all know is about being prepared. The only edge I have over my species going through the crash is I crashed earlier and have some experience with how it works. First of all, you have to do all of the work by yourself if you ever want anything to work again. Its helpful to retain your sense of humor. And just like the woodpile, in order to work smoothly, it requires more humility than you knew you had. That's not groveling I'm talking about, its gratitude for having the experiences you always knew were most important, experiences that the crazy world of the Illusion denies us until it can no longer be denied.

The crash is actually a paradigm shift. Let me clear up another generally misinterpreted detail, the Illusion is not necessarily the government either, or the educational system, it is much more preponderant that a single entity, it is social mores founded in religious beliefs approved by the government and their educative counterparts, all of which is bullhorned by every media venue every second of every single day and night. The ads are generic images of the system idealized. It was never possible to emulate it in the capacity it was thrust upon the human element. The Illusion is still here, still bullhorning, but bullhorning into an empty choir loft. We hear they won't be able to keep this up more than a month or two, by fall the underground forecast is guaranteeing "bigger and worse" than the bigger and worse we've already seen.

We become inured. I'd almost go over to the other side of ignorance and bliss if I had the money to do it. As it is, having been driven by increments into destitution accompanied by the occasional displacement, I figured out the larger patterns mostly on my own by osmosis. The rest came in leaps and chunks of brilliance from like minded others, none comes from those caught up in the program that don't realize they are in a program. I have much compassion for this group, all of the suffering and confusion awaits them. I've seen some comments around today that spell doom for this crowd, deeply possession-oriented, convinced in their inviolate correctness. You can tell them nothing. They've invested everything, they have their ears locked on the bullhorns. Their actions are unhelpful to everyone else. They prolong the inevitable, worsening the crises by emulating the loudest bullhorns as less effectual, regional bullhorns, always introducing more delusions further inflating the Illusion.

Try not to get caught up in them. They never come right out and say what you are doing is wrong, instead they work behind you making regulations to prevent your success and harp on the negatives in your Plan B. By standing there in front of you in the very image of fascism idealized, your dirty work boots are a shabby representation of your total self in their eyes.

When this happens, muster up that sense of humor in the nonsense of the moment, recall your humility, be compassionate. Be strong. Come this fall, they will likely be singing the blues desperate to know how your survival is possible. You should show them then what real living is all about and be kind about it. That is the biggest lesson I learned along those weary roads, kindness is the key and love is the door.

Rules for getting along in the New World post crash:
1. Accept the reality of what is.
2. Do no harm.
3. Maintain your physical and your mental health.
4. Remove yourself immediately from the potential for damage.
5. Keep your higher self out front and available at all times, eradicate any vestige of a representative self so that all your thoughts, words and deeds are united.
6. Flow with nature.
7. Replace regret with heal, help and repair. Our language is as much at fault for our programming as the program itself.
8. Embrace the fire of transformation with trust and awe.

The rules are in random order and all have the same priority. Staying focused and open minded is important too, but easily twisted since these terms are flexible depending on who uses them.