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.
Showing posts with label sqandering possibility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sqandering possibility. Show all posts
Thursday, July 07, 2016
Saturday, May 11, 2013
we can do this now
The Trout Clan's Murph and Freeacre, have had a disastrous fire wiping out their formerly exquisite property made by holding hands with Nature. I don't know the details of how it began, but they are in the midst of starting over which has been held back as usual by the ARGHHHH insurance industry. Please see their new post and offer what you can by way of assistance in any and all areas to speed healing. We know them to be an incredibly hard working and resilient couple and I have no doubt they will, at some point in the future, discover this disaster as a blessing in disguise.
Let's help them however we can, even if it is only through your good words, I am sure it will help. Thank you.
Let's help them however we can, even if it is only through your good words, I am sure it will help. Thank you.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Phase II 2012 is over. Next?
Are you seeing any progress? At this time, that which we feel is
progress, although weakly discernible since we try hard to see
"something" in order for it all not to have been an all-encompassing
waste of a once good thing, is not progress acknowledged by the larger
community, it takes a train you know, mountains must move, a violent
punishing God must come down from the sky with his shepherds staff,
breathing fire with bands of angels ripping off the masks and costumes,
exposing the most intimate, naked fears of the paranoid human species.
God would herald the animals, the seas, the deserts and prairies, both
poles, the foliage and his supreme natural system ensuring once and for
all, they were understood to be his most pure, perfect creations, to be
celebrated and treasured for they make his projects run smoothy. Our
progress levels seem as slight acknowledgement of basic truth 101, there
are many more advanced studies to be undertaken, it furthers one to
cross the water. Basic truth 102 is good, but Basics 103 gets a little
slippery because of the commitment required to maintain previous
understandings while the class ventures out of doors blindfolded. One
person wears the blind, the other leads the way. That's the one where
we are forced to abandon fear and embrace trust and can go very wrong if
your trust has been misplaced. Fortunately, with God, the coursework
offers the solution which is to trust regardless because anyone reaching
level 103 is already on the same page as you are.
Are we waiting for God to visit? Not hardly. God is in us already, in the here and now. This idea of a visiting deity, akin to political candidates' whistle-stops, is shared by many faux religions and actually keeps God away, somewhere in a celestial palace, not available to stand on Earth and straighten out the turmoil in the way it appears to need, so it is that available self-serving rulers are appointed and reappointed, telling us they do God's work, which they cannot as is plainly obvious, yet the fundies persist in this conundrum replete with erasing Mother's history to the point logic and sensibility of their motivation is distorted as always happens when someone starts from the wrong premise. You cannot contemplate the Dharma without consciousness of that which was already here before mankind came along. WE are not an original species, we are a sort of byproduct of Apes, Apes are a far more realized species in comparison. We might have been their "services" sector because our dexterity proved capable of making tools and weaponry, but we were never decent helpers, always whining, grumbling, making deals behind the caves, cheating on the assignments, thinking our ways were better, that we were overall better beings than Apes, trading women in secret for the production of evermore skilled and creative offspring with which to overthrow the unpleasant circumstances of living without the luxuries the Apes seemingly enjoyed. Man dearly desired to conquer his lowly status as sub-Ape and systematically, unknown to the Apes who bore him, fed him, gave him reason to be and the freedom to develop his skills, and began the long ascent (a descent) to rise above the arrangement. This happened everywhere, almost simultaneously. This era can be called the birth of human evil. It was supplemented by a victory of sorts for Mankind so that he saw himself possessing great power over all. Recall it began with an accidental hybrid who to this day has still NOT earned the trust of the Animal Kingdom.
It is a cultivated occupatiom to let your mind travel and see where it goes. As you throw in memories of your truth-time online, the story begins to evolve onto a nonfiction mystery which will take you, very often, to what it was that really went down. As you know, one connection suddenly leads to another... and this "making of connections", be they local or far beyond the perimeter of your personal sphere, is the only kind of progress that ultimately matters.
* * *
In the process of thinking about trust, connections and progress, what we really need to talk about is fear in some of its most common manifestations. For those of you who missed the comments on the last essay, you would not know we are speaking of the Fear of Being Real. I will tell you right off, the more real you are the better your chances of survival anywhere, anytime. Life is not a cakewalk, we were put here to suffer in order to understand suffering. The Great Wall of Fear is one of the fundamentals of life, such as appendages and DNA. Attempting to break through the wall is one of the, if not THE, most difficult things we can do. There are quick ways to do it, but they are not as long lasting or life-impacting as doing it on your own without embellishments. Once you start however, even the smallest crack in the wall bears great fruit, call it beginner's luck. It will encourage you to try it again and again because the jewels of self-knowedge lying inside and the pasture of Universal Plenty on the other side, patiently wait for you to reach them. With each success you gleam brighter. There are many who only go so far and quit, thinking they've figured out all they need to get around it, fearing huge losses resulting from coming clean with themselves, their enablers and their followers also locked in lies. It is the Great Wall of Fear after all and it is fearsome indeed, those who don't make it would be the masses hard-wired into elaborate systems of false belief. An example would be that of someone who basically portrays themselves to themselves, and others, in the context of full-spectrum fabrication, 24/7. Do you know anyone like that? Although some people who have the most to fear will sometimes make the breakthrough, this rare occurrence happens only because living a lie-filled life includes a suffering that in its most unbearable moments overwhelms them, then compels them to seek another way of existence.
Some Top Fears in no particular order:
being unloved
loss of shelter
escalating the potential for violence
appearing stupid
being needy, hungry
loss of credibility
perceived as sloppy and careless
chosen to be an accidental enemy
penury
abuse
loneliness
being unjustly taken advantage of
And those are just common fears, not mine, maybe some were a long time ago, but fears I have witnessed over the recent past often enough to note these particular fears are usually the root behind otherwise inexplicable behavior. I'll be interested in hearing your lists. Some might interpret these fears as being mostly without physical pain, but the pain of suffering encompasses physical and intellectual pain, it can and will kill and/or destroy lives and create medical conditions often matching one's "worst" fear. The fear experienced typically in wanting to speak the truth but do not for fear listeners will discredit you and never again take you seriously is RAMPANT. It stings in your body, knots the gut. That kind of fear, BTW, is taught in kindergarten or earlier should one be so unfortunate as to be a product of abusive parenting. The way to break through that is to forgive and move on, carrying with you the lessons of support and compassion. When you examine the root, you are bringing fear to its logical dead end. The problem is in the examination, we must be motivated to uncover what fear tells us. Remember that every seemingly chaotic and cloudy event is fear based. Imagine multiples of fears cascading upon you all at once, there are people who love this state and others who will not tolerate it, seeing though the veils and incessantly backtracking for the cause. It is always startling to discover how routinely those fears listed above show themselves. Before 2012, of course we saw them, but in 2011 and further back, they were not nearly as stark as today, in the urban global marketplace where life depends on creative survival in spite of fear.
Large numbers of city dwellers are walking around with invisible bandaids over their fears instead of facing them. This is why wherever you have to go within a city, you are met with vast sinkholes absent human contact, the silent self of the stranger recoils from risking a glimpse of you in all your truth, as you find you are attempting to interact with a robot quoting from the employees manual. Nothing in these exchanges have any truth to them other than "yes" or "no". This means whenever we must be present in an urban setting for whatever reason it is within the quality of a movie, perhaps They Live, Wall Street, Death of a Salesman or Glengarry Glen Ross, a.k.a. "no one is home", because they are lost in their steamertrunk of fears, making it nearly impossible for you to accomplish whatever seemingly simple task you went there to achieve. The truth is never the fantasy.
It also means whenever you are among friends, it can be guaranteed some or one will fear your straightforward no-nonsense approach which unfortunately can sometimes translate into seeing your views rather unsymathetically. That usually happens among the kind who always have to be right as their drug of chioice - of which there are as many as there are psychopathies to hide them. Our recent favorite lesson stands: They-want-it-that-way. Well, fine, but the unconscious emotional trauma brought on by fear is a killer leaving untold collateral damage in its wake. Once it is clear to you that you are perceived as an enemy to the robot, which you cannot help but be - since your very presence brings up unconscious fears, intimdation, foreboding, suspicions, it is best to use simple, clear sentences and leave quickly. It is likely you have nothing at all to do with somone else's baggage, so be kind, be geniune and brief.
Afterwards, when you are far away, back in your own comfort zone, you might feel sad their lives were lost while they were still living. I blame these fears on childhood abuse and/or a childhood surrounded with the same fears we are talking about, as if the child sponge fully absorbed those very same fears squeezing the life out of the adults even before the child was able to name sunshine and rain. I've heard it happens in the womb or for that matter in conception. Think about it. Work to overcome it.
Related: Visible Origami:
"... What is going on? What is going on? What is not going on? Why do we walk around massive lies that we know to be massive lies and are indifferent to this? Why do we carry the truth around with us and are indifferent to it? Fear plays a great part in all of this. We fear exposing the existence of the lies to ourselves. ..."
Are we waiting for God to visit? Not hardly. God is in us already, in the here and now. This idea of a visiting deity, akin to political candidates' whistle-stops, is shared by many faux religions and actually keeps God away, somewhere in a celestial palace, not available to stand on Earth and straighten out the turmoil in the way it appears to need, so it is that available self-serving rulers are appointed and reappointed, telling us they do God's work, which they cannot as is plainly obvious, yet the fundies persist in this conundrum replete with erasing Mother's history to the point logic and sensibility of their motivation is distorted as always happens when someone starts from the wrong premise. You cannot contemplate the Dharma without consciousness of that which was already here before mankind came along. WE are not an original species, we are a sort of byproduct of Apes, Apes are a far more realized species in comparison. We might have been their "services" sector because our dexterity proved capable of making tools and weaponry, but we were never decent helpers, always whining, grumbling, making deals behind the caves, cheating on the assignments, thinking our ways were better, that we were overall better beings than Apes, trading women in secret for the production of evermore skilled and creative offspring with which to overthrow the unpleasant circumstances of living without the luxuries the Apes seemingly enjoyed. Man dearly desired to conquer his lowly status as sub-Ape and systematically, unknown to the Apes who bore him, fed him, gave him reason to be and the freedom to develop his skills, and began the long ascent (a descent) to rise above the arrangement. This happened everywhere, almost simultaneously. This era can be called the birth of human evil. It was supplemented by a victory of sorts for Mankind so that he saw himself possessing great power over all. Recall it began with an accidental hybrid who to this day has still NOT earned the trust of the Animal Kingdom.
It is a cultivated occupatiom to let your mind travel and see where it goes. As you throw in memories of your truth-time online, the story begins to evolve onto a nonfiction mystery which will take you, very often, to what it was that really went down. As you know, one connection suddenly leads to another... and this "making of connections", be they local or far beyond the perimeter of your personal sphere, is the only kind of progress that ultimately matters.
* * *
In the process of thinking about trust, connections and progress, what we really need to talk about is fear in some of its most common manifestations. For those of you who missed the comments on the last essay, you would not know we are speaking of the Fear of Being Real. I will tell you right off, the more real you are the better your chances of survival anywhere, anytime. Life is not a cakewalk, we were put here to suffer in order to understand suffering. The Great Wall of Fear is one of the fundamentals of life, such as appendages and DNA. Attempting to break through the wall is one of the, if not THE, most difficult things we can do. There are quick ways to do it, but they are not as long lasting or life-impacting as doing it on your own without embellishments. Once you start however, even the smallest crack in the wall bears great fruit, call it beginner's luck. It will encourage you to try it again and again because the jewels of self-knowedge lying inside and the pasture of Universal Plenty on the other side, patiently wait for you to reach them. With each success you gleam brighter. There are many who only go so far and quit, thinking they've figured out all they need to get around it, fearing huge losses resulting from coming clean with themselves, their enablers and their followers also locked in lies. It is the Great Wall of Fear after all and it is fearsome indeed, those who don't make it would be the masses hard-wired into elaborate systems of false belief. An example would be that of someone who basically portrays themselves to themselves, and others, in the context of full-spectrum fabrication, 24/7. Do you know anyone like that? Although some people who have the most to fear will sometimes make the breakthrough, this rare occurrence happens only because living a lie-filled life includes a suffering that in its most unbearable moments overwhelms them, then compels them to seek another way of existence.
Some Top Fears in no particular order:
being unloved
loss of shelter
escalating the potential for violence
appearing stupid
being needy, hungry
loss of credibility
perceived as sloppy and careless
chosen to be an accidental enemy
penury
abuse
loneliness
being unjustly taken advantage of
And those are just common fears, not mine, maybe some were a long time ago, but fears I have witnessed over the recent past often enough to note these particular fears are usually the root behind otherwise inexplicable behavior. I'll be interested in hearing your lists. Some might interpret these fears as being mostly without physical pain, but the pain of suffering encompasses physical and intellectual pain, it can and will kill and/or destroy lives and create medical conditions often matching one's "worst" fear. The fear experienced typically in wanting to speak the truth but do not for fear listeners will discredit you and never again take you seriously is RAMPANT. It stings in your body, knots the gut. That kind of fear, BTW, is taught in kindergarten or earlier should one be so unfortunate as to be a product of abusive parenting. The way to break through that is to forgive and move on, carrying with you the lessons of support and compassion. When you examine the root, you are bringing fear to its logical dead end. The problem is in the examination, we must be motivated to uncover what fear tells us. Remember that every seemingly chaotic and cloudy event is fear based. Imagine multiples of fears cascading upon you all at once, there are people who love this state and others who will not tolerate it, seeing though the veils and incessantly backtracking for the cause. It is always startling to discover how routinely those fears listed above show themselves. Before 2012, of course we saw them, but in 2011 and further back, they were not nearly as stark as today, in the urban global marketplace where life depends on creative survival in spite of fear.
Large numbers of city dwellers are walking around with invisible bandaids over their fears instead of facing them. This is why wherever you have to go within a city, you are met with vast sinkholes absent human contact, the silent self of the stranger recoils from risking a glimpse of you in all your truth, as you find you are attempting to interact with a robot quoting from the employees manual. Nothing in these exchanges have any truth to them other than "yes" or "no". This means whenever we must be present in an urban setting for whatever reason it is within the quality of a movie, perhaps They Live, Wall Street, Death of a Salesman or Glengarry Glen Ross, a.k.a. "no one is home", because they are lost in their steamertrunk of fears, making it nearly impossible for you to accomplish whatever seemingly simple task you went there to achieve. The truth is never the fantasy.
It also means whenever you are among friends, it can be guaranteed some or one will fear your straightforward no-nonsense approach which unfortunately can sometimes translate into seeing your views rather unsymathetically. That usually happens among the kind who always have to be right as their drug of chioice - of which there are as many as there are psychopathies to hide them. Our recent favorite lesson stands: They-want-it-that-way. Well, fine, but the unconscious emotional trauma brought on by fear is a killer leaving untold collateral damage in its wake. Once it is clear to you that you are perceived as an enemy to the robot, which you cannot help but be - since your very presence brings up unconscious fears, intimdation, foreboding, suspicions, it is best to use simple, clear sentences and leave quickly. It is likely you have nothing at all to do with somone else's baggage, so be kind, be geniune and brief.
Afterwards, when you are far away, back in your own comfort zone, you might feel sad their lives were lost while they were still living. I blame these fears on childhood abuse and/or a childhood surrounded with the same fears we are talking about, as if the child sponge fully absorbed those very same fears squeezing the life out of the adults even before the child was able to name sunshine and rain. I've heard it happens in the womb or for that matter in conception. Think about it. Work to overcome it.
Related: Visible Origami:
"... What is going on? What is going on? What is not going on? Why do we walk around massive lies that we know to be massive lies and are indifferent to this? Why do we carry the truth around with us and are indifferent to it? Fear plays a great part in all of this. We fear exposing the existence of the lies to ourselves. ..."
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
a breed without soul
In a recent post concerning overpopulation, I mentioned the lack of identity among purchasing dependent overpopulators:
... Overpopulators who in elbowing their ways through the journey atop Nascar rated tires or encased in overpriced lookalike cages behind gated walls, the cabs and carriers of which include amenities such as surrogate identity where none actually exists, rooms and inhabitants displaying various cult features such as fashion. style, cosmetic surgery, meaningless logos and rude decals, never used tourbus campers, accessorized show pets, sculpture for the stupid tipped over on the tiny lawns and so forth which when distilled are banners hovering above their bodies as cartoon thought bubbles since the verbal skills of these cage dwellers are limited to uninspired overused phrases meted out under stress with matching facial expression instead of the age old middle finger hand signal which could, if employed outside the safety of shatterproof glass, bring on drastically unintended consequences. For example, our mridang master met up with one of these PDO cultists last week, here is his description of the experience:
Hey, good move my man! Too close to the edge indeed. Call in the Astrologers or perhaps this event was yet another training exercise...
Shall we translate his tongue-tied aggressor's meaning behind "Have a nice day", under those circumstances? How about heated guilt? Guilt so pure and intensely felt inside it burned in a wildfire of panic. Caught, the pretender of rights to the pump was instantly reduced to a cheesy four words - words only used in that particular way by all the other countless guilty who know perfectly well they have destroyed your peace of mind by initiating deliberately violent and dangerous action proving for all who happen to be passing by, whatever they are doing is of more importance than whatever you could possibly be doing and are rendered speechless when the unexpected and unknown consequences of their reprehensible behavior suddenly confronts them face to face. "Have a nice day" means Go away. I have no explanation for my actions, I don't even know why I did what I did. I can't apologize because that would give you (and me) living proof I was wrong. Had it been anyone other than our musician confronting her, you can be certain she was aware her behavior was setting the stage for violence. She took a wild gamble there and lucky for her, walked away to continue ruining the days of whomever else was so unfortunate as to be in her path. I'm sure you've met plenty of these kinds of people, we all have, it is unavoidable, especially now as many of them have been born into a world ripped asunder, minus any comprehension of what exists inside themselves and others or even a shred of vague curiosity why the world is what it is today. To question is to risk exposure. They run the gauntlet and take their gambles and often lose, the losses piling high in their wake. And when they don't lose, they still lose, because living a life in this manner makes them no friends. There is something about being behind the wheel or any imaginary shield that ignites these wannabeWetikos like nothing else because out in the open they become sniveling cowards either looking for the nearest escape or threatening with a show of imaginary protections referring to friends in high places, but when you're looking at them, they are accompanied by no one. Who could stand them? They don't even like each other and are so worried their children won't turn out exactly like themselves, the kids are forced to stay indoors, losing their own curiosity and adding pounds watching candy bars broken in half and magically sealed back together on the wide screen.
Sad to say, I've been coming across this kind of thing too much. I try to stay apart, while being there with others, but alert, you never know what triggers another person's unsuspected anger. Of course, this is not always the case, but it has happened enough in these times to be a recurrent phenomena. However long and however well you think you might know someone, there is still a hidden, rather low level potential, you could, completely accidentally, set them off. When that happens, you never forget, whatever you thought you had previous to that moment is gone, the trust betrayed. The trust I am speaking about is a trust that we accept the totality of others, their baggage, their flaws, their bond with us until it is exposed as one sided, which isn't a bond at all. Regardless of how fully we might join in smothering the outburst and make a long drawn-out show of loyalty, in your own mind and memory, the scene lives on. You may think others have long overlooked your lapses too, but from your own experience, you know it is impossible and you can only hope the passage of time brings opportunities where you or she/he show themselves a better man than that deep, dark, secret memory you have of a seemingly out of character event. Note it works not only both ways, but from an intermingling of angles. If you notice it happening repeatedly, you will eventually be forced to confront yourself, asking what are you in it for anyway? Some know exactly why they engineer face to face crisis. The Wetikos and their vain admirers play us like pianos, confident that following a successful guilt-inducing punishment, if you are still present, still forgiving, you are no threat to their existence. One might think they take it for granted no one is paying attention to the dynamic or how it charts itself in the memory-bank. Over and over I see it going down, day after day, night after night, the same scenes enacted by countless human beings refusing to see the reality of what is happening, what they are doing, stumbling over the damage left in the wake of continuing crisis, poisoned to the gills from a steady diet of pesticides, loaded on mind glazing drugs, oblivious to the tortures they inflict and are being inflicted upon them. They are far beyond caring. What's more, they do not want you to point it out to them either, they already know they are in so deep there can be no escape during their lifetime.
I cannot imagine a life spent like that, can you? They might as well just be lifers on the chain gang cultivating your crops. We like to think somewhere down the road the human underneath will show up, but there is no evidence such a folly ever takes place. That would be like hoping Jerry Sandusky mends his ways or George Zimmerman feels remorse. Ladies and gentlemen, there is a breed out there that has no humanity and has laid claim to entire lifetimes without sensitivity, sorrow, suffering, love or compassion. They have learned to blend in order to thrive and thrive at your expense they will. This breed is one of the worst effects of overpopulation because you cannot avoid meeting up with them in crowds. Avoid crowds. Stay aware of your surroundings and keep a low profile. This breed thrives in a pampered and corrupt culture based on worship of the self. In this way, you could call them vampires - energized by the blood of innocents.
We can also say Great Fortune shined upon our beloved musician while being shown the existence of this breed. The fact the remainder of his day turned out so well, not to mention void of conflict escalation, speaks highly of his self-control. That is a self-control we would all be wise to emulate. Considering the bigger picture, with all its extending pressures and disappointments, the undeniable angst of a planet under siege, the refusal to address responsibility for extinction events immediately under way is leading westerners from denial and refusal into violence as if civility no longer matters. To say civility has no place, is saying there is no love. There will always be love, my friends. No matter how unwieldy it gets, how freaky, how strange, how cruel, humiliating, devastating and physically painful, the one thing we can always count on is Love. Love always wins.
I leave you with a link to an alarming report, Global Warming's Terrifying New Math, written by Bill McKibben and published for the August 2012 edition of Rolling Stone. I am sure some of you have seen it already. The fact that this piece was made available in that publication tells us citizens are meant to see it, share it and lose their cool over it. Isn't that what Wetikos really want? Ah, but I've got news for them, the majority of readers will be concerned only until the next personalized blinking ad grabs their eyes.
."..The next time you find yourself sitting in traffic, take a good look at your surroundings, take note of the decals emblazoned in obese fonts with neon hues on westerners' windsheilds, "American Patriot", "I'm not a bitch, I'm THE Bitch" or the rednecks' fave, bin Laden pissing. These indicate a desperation to stand out among the writhing masses, wouldn't you say, a loneliness so severe that attention is drawn by means of annoying hapless passersby? You might also say its obvious they have no identity anymore (if they ever had any to begin with) and obscene decals are the best they could scrabble together in saying "I am alive, look at me, I count dammit!" ..."
... Overpopulators who in elbowing their ways through the journey atop Nascar rated tires or encased in overpriced lookalike cages behind gated walls, the cabs and carriers of which include amenities such as surrogate identity where none actually exists, rooms and inhabitants displaying various cult features such as fashion. style, cosmetic surgery, meaningless logos and rude decals, never used tourbus campers, accessorized show pets, sculpture for the stupid tipped over on the tiny lawns and so forth which when distilled are banners hovering above their bodies as cartoon thought bubbles since the verbal skills of these cage dwellers are limited to uninspired overused phrases meted out under stress with matching facial expression instead of the age old middle finger hand signal which could, if employed outside the safety of shatterproof glass, bring on drastically unintended consequences. For example, our mridang master met up with one of these PDO cultists last week, here is his description of the experience:
"On the 20th, in town, I was flipped off, cut off and almost rammed by a woman tearing in the exit to get in front of me at the gas pump. As she calmly got out I asked what the problem was. My eyes met the most icy cold, nobody-home, face I've seen in a long time. I was told to 'have a nice day'. Maybe I just don't get out much, and this is the new normal? Heavily meded-up was my take, and too close to the edge for me to pursue it further, as it was already disturbing enough...."
Hey, good move my man! Too close to the edge indeed. Call in the Astrologers or perhaps this event was yet another training exercise...
Shall we translate his tongue-tied aggressor's meaning behind "Have a nice day", under those circumstances? How about heated guilt? Guilt so pure and intensely felt inside it burned in a wildfire of panic. Caught, the pretender of rights to the pump was instantly reduced to a cheesy four words - words only used in that particular way by all the other countless guilty who know perfectly well they have destroyed your peace of mind by initiating deliberately violent and dangerous action proving for all who happen to be passing by, whatever they are doing is of more importance than whatever you could possibly be doing and are rendered speechless when the unexpected and unknown consequences of their reprehensible behavior suddenly confronts them face to face. "Have a nice day" means Go away. I have no explanation for my actions, I don't even know why I did what I did. I can't apologize because that would give you (and me) living proof I was wrong. Had it been anyone other than our musician confronting her, you can be certain she was aware her behavior was setting the stage for violence. She took a wild gamble there and lucky for her, walked away to continue ruining the days of whomever else was so unfortunate as to be in her path. I'm sure you've met plenty of these kinds of people, we all have, it is unavoidable, especially now as many of them have been born into a world ripped asunder, minus any comprehension of what exists inside themselves and others or even a shred of vague curiosity why the world is what it is today. To question is to risk exposure. They run the gauntlet and take their gambles and often lose, the losses piling high in their wake. And when they don't lose, they still lose, because living a life in this manner makes them no friends. There is something about being behind the wheel or any imaginary shield that ignites these wannabeWetikos like nothing else because out in the open they become sniveling cowards either looking for the nearest escape or threatening with a show of imaginary protections referring to friends in high places, but when you're looking at them, they are accompanied by no one. Who could stand them? They don't even like each other and are so worried their children won't turn out exactly like themselves, the kids are forced to stay indoors, losing their own curiosity and adding pounds watching candy bars broken in half and magically sealed back together on the wide screen.
Sad to say, I've been coming across this kind of thing too much. I try to stay apart, while being there with others, but alert, you never know what triggers another person's unsuspected anger. Of course, this is not always the case, but it has happened enough in these times to be a recurrent phenomena. However long and however well you think you might know someone, there is still a hidden, rather low level potential, you could, completely accidentally, set them off. When that happens, you never forget, whatever you thought you had previous to that moment is gone, the trust betrayed. The trust I am speaking about is a trust that we accept the totality of others, their baggage, their flaws, their bond with us until it is exposed as one sided, which isn't a bond at all. Regardless of how fully we might join in smothering the outburst and make a long drawn-out show of loyalty, in your own mind and memory, the scene lives on. You may think others have long overlooked your lapses too, but from your own experience, you know it is impossible and you can only hope the passage of time brings opportunities where you or she/he show themselves a better man than that deep, dark, secret memory you have of a seemingly out of character event. Note it works not only both ways, but from an intermingling of angles. If you notice it happening repeatedly, you will eventually be forced to confront yourself, asking what are you in it for anyway? Some know exactly why they engineer face to face crisis. The Wetikos and their vain admirers play us like pianos, confident that following a successful guilt-inducing punishment, if you are still present, still forgiving, you are no threat to their existence. One might think they take it for granted no one is paying attention to the dynamic or how it charts itself in the memory-bank. Over and over I see it going down, day after day, night after night, the same scenes enacted by countless human beings refusing to see the reality of what is happening, what they are doing, stumbling over the damage left in the wake of continuing crisis, poisoned to the gills from a steady diet of pesticides, loaded on mind glazing drugs, oblivious to the tortures they inflict and are being inflicted upon them. They are far beyond caring. What's more, they do not want you to point it out to them either, they already know they are in so deep there can be no escape during their lifetime.
I cannot imagine a life spent like that, can you? They might as well just be lifers on the chain gang cultivating your crops. We like to think somewhere down the road the human underneath will show up, but there is no evidence such a folly ever takes place. That would be like hoping Jerry Sandusky mends his ways or George Zimmerman feels remorse. Ladies and gentlemen, there is a breed out there that has no humanity and has laid claim to entire lifetimes without sensitivity, sorrow, suffering, love or compassion. They have learned to blend in order to thrive and thrive at your expense they will. This breed is one of the worst effects of overpopulation because you cannot avoid meeting up with them in crowds. Avoid crowds. Stay aware of your surroundings and keep a low profile. This breed thrives in a pampered and corrupt culture based on worship of the self. In this way, you could call them vampires - energized by the blood of innocents.
We can also say Great Fortune shined upon our beloved musician while being shown the existence of this breed. The fact the remainder of his day turned out so well, not to mention void of conflict escalation, speaks highly of his self-control. That is a self-control we would all be wise to emulate. Considering the bigger picture, with all its extending pressures and disappointments, the undeniable angst of a planet under siege, the refusal to address responsibility for extinction events immediately under way is leading westerners from denial and refusal into violence as if civility no longer matters. To say civility has no place, is saying there is no love. There will always be love, my friends. No matter how unwieldy it gets, how freaky, how strange, how cruel, humiliating, devastating and physically painful, the one thing we can always count on is Love. Love always wins.
I leave you with a link to an alarming report, Global Warming's Terrifying New Math, written by Bill McKibben and published for the August 2012 edition of Rolling Stone. I am sure some of you have seen it already. The fact that this piece was made available in that publication tells us citizens are meant to see it, share it and lose their cool over it. Isn't that what Wetikos really want? Ah, but I've got news for them, the majority of readers will be concerned only until the next personalized blinking ad grabs their eyes.
"... This record of failure means we know a lot about what strategies don't work. Green groups, for instance, have spent a lot of time trying to change individual lifestyles: the iconic twisty light bulb has been installed by the millions, but so have a new generation of energy-sucking flatscreen TVs. Most of us are fundamentally ambivalent about going green: We like cheap flights to warm places, and we're certainly not going to give them up if everyone else is still taking them. Since all of us are in some way the beneficiaries of cheap fossil fuel, tackling climate change has been like trying to build a movement against yourself – it's as if the gay-rights movement had to be constructed entirely from evangelical preachers, or the abolition movement from slaveholders. ..."
Sunday, March 18, 2012
the lady gaga fear and loathing smackfest
" ... Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me
“How good, how good does it feel to be free?”
And I answer them most mysteriously
“Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?”
Dylan, Ballad in Plain D
There are many among our species more like ants than they realize. Colonists feeding, toiling, regularly waging turf wars, the disabled, sick or different summarily dismissed for the greater good. Where does leviathan royalty fit into this picture we ask? The Queen is their system unilaterally, interestingly similar to westernized homo sapien social orders, especially the "Disintegrate Iran into the mother of all resource/economic/hostile takeovers" Order of Wetiko Weasels. We've heard Weasels are known for taking over the nests of other species. One would imagine there is plenty of protective heat emitted from both sides, perp and victim and the backup choirs of both sucking the bias out of whatever justification for Weasel presence goes around. Once the consequences of the Saturday Night Special, i.e.; primary Weasel weaponry, results of which may be infuriated bond holders, etc., no further global exchange is permitted for the original nest dwellers, at least for the duration of Phase Combat. Although we have also heard there is a time tested, trust-based way around this. It is highly likely we'll be revisiting that particular system of exchange as the Weasels near ever closer to Full Spectrum Dominance with their unique brand of bulldozing, garbage compacting, earth-moving genocide. Start with clearing the property of human vegetable material, next, lay in sprinklers to soften the soil for tomorrow's state of the art interrogation basements. I can't stand to see it, again, and again, the full body waxing formula cast in stone, Rumsfeld's pornographic dream of known unknowns come to full flower, a small and powerful coalition of roving international forces available, anytime, anywhere, quelling hotspots throughout the world on a moment's notice. (Are you used to the former US commercial airports manager as SecDef in chief, yet? No?) And then what, when there is no more conquering to be accomplished, along with its attendant nightmares and serial slaughter, we ask, do they start over, reduced to warring over spoils among themselves, cuz we know they can't just quit and walk away? All to sustain the impossibility of infinite growth, swindling greenhorn shareholders into supporting the peak of the pyramid whose chief beneficiaries vanish from the headlines when the floor collapses, the ICC bent sideways under a burgeoning backlog of past patsy criminal investigations many of which may never see the light of justice if they want continuing economic cooperation from the global community, translated as continuing liquidity from the greater global printing press. Geeze, its not like the joint squeaks by at all at the pleasure of Tony Soprano or something, is it? Once they get their hooks in, it only encourages more and worse of the same, forever fouling sovereign nests taken in the thrill of the kill, offing the seed of offspring to prevent any possibility future generations just might develop the temerity to look homeward as the Weasels settle in with faux Constitutional declarations and faux contractual claims to stolen fortune, unearned, undeserved. Rinse and repeat.
"Everything is on the table."
When you read that sentence, or hear it, even typing it, it manifests an eerie cloudiness, a porous bamboo spear sizzling though razorwire, generating fabrications that nobody believes and eventually learns its too flammable to even whisper in most social interactions. Who talks like that anyway? What kind of mindset sashays atop the prized Persian carpet, hands in pockets, necktie pinned tightly in place, smears on a dour face melting into pockmarked pixels under the global lights and pronounces such a bizarrity? With a pause before and after the sentence as if the weight of those words has long been calculated in the digitized, fusion funneled versions of Probabilities and Statistics which comes after Calculus if you're any good at it. Or if you have a bit of the linear brain in you. This action leads to this result, all of these actions lead to all of these results, one plus one equals two, questions are not permitted, nor is close examination, metaphorical comparisons are to be shot on sight or better, annihilate the entire region, apply chemtrails so we can breathe without gasping for CO2 by the time contracts are let. A quadrillion zillion tiny slivers of colored glass and marbled mirror reflect the story echoing throughout pillared halls and archways in centuries old architectural splendor where all gather at dawn, on their knees, heads to the ground, genuflecting in unison, complete oneness in brotherhood with collective faith, collective unbearable loss and victimization bearing up under insane pressures, abandoned of all hope all ye of the formerly God-given right to exist in peace. The man is on the move, Collaterals, beware, your time nears. We urge you to locate refuge and enact your evacuation plans as the No-fly Zone banner flutters into place above the shifting dunes and tightening straits, white phosphorus, escalating extreme munitions and eye in the sky surveillance portends the impossibility of any later exodus. Cellos weep in minor, string sawing bass, intermission is over, the curtains part, Apocalypse Now, part two-redux, the part with body parts and streaming blood, guts and gore, little people flaying arms, running tear-streaked scattering, the smell of Napalm in the morning ...
... The foreign sun, it squints upon
A bed that is never mine
As friends and other strangers
From their fates try to resign
Leaving men wholly, totally free
To do anything they wish to do but die
And there are no trials inside the Gates of Eden...
Dylan, Gates of Eden
We will never go forward if we cannot cease revisiting the past, the past being an Objects in the mirror are larger than they appear mix of gelatinous thought balloons and scratchy black and white home movies, scripted by early childhood patterns where the stars are the entire cast, seen through your lens, molded by antiquity, in memory lock-boxes, broken into simple paragraphs for easy recitation should the need arise, as it sometimes will, complete with peak special effects and categorized under autobiographical summaries. If you took a microscope to the stills you would discover unidentifiable ghostly figures lingering in the background, beyond the camera's frame, mocking the events, cattle branding their own version of reality in challenge to yours. Is this time going to be any different than any other time in all of history? It is always the same Trail of Tears expanded to suit seven billion needy, seeking souls adjusting, adapting each with his own past and pregnant future, the movement of Jah people.
*****
In dissection of the Instamatic public relations campaign surrounding the serial killings stirred with peyote bitters flavoring the cruelty wars on top of resource wars on top of wars of suppression and out of favor with the agency strawdog wars, it is stupefying once again to fully digest the utter lack of respect or appreciation for the mentality of ordinary citizen bystanders going about their lives hungering for normalcy, in spite of normal having lost any credibility as a lifestyle in sadsack Beetle Bailey's Fear and Loathing Smackfest. We are pressed into "compassion without choice" for the untreated alkie, he is today portrayed as fallen hero, just another little person helplessly trapped exactly as millions of others suffering financial woes, foreclosure, a father of toddlers, the hero's marital union blissful, but stressed under economic hardship and loathing the separation of repeated Middle East deployments. Amazing, huh? We are tortured through media to love our homegrown Ted Bundies. Only three days ago, his alcohol problem and anger management arrests saturated the airwaves, including a brief mention of Major Someone you know from somewhere else attempting a sneak-in under the fence upon reaching base post slaughter, somehow he emerges to recover from one damning image only to morph into the confusing demeanor of victim. Excuse me? And those sixteen heinous acts of pointless murder? Nine children, three women included, are they not the victims? It becomes even harder separating fact from psycho fiction after pouring the entire situation into the re-election machine, coating the most merciless extinguisher in dripdry vote worthy good boy sheen, tell me again, God is on whose side today? Watch for the defense to A) plea post traumatic shock and B) cop rehab as justice.
“How good, how good does it feel to be free?”
And I answer them most mysteriously
“Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?”
Dylan, Ballad in Plain D
There are many among our species more like ants than they realize. Colonists feeding, toiling, regularly waging turf wars, the disabled, sick or different summarily dismissed for the greater good. Where does leviathan royalty fit into this picture we ask? The Queen is their system unilaterally, interestingly similar to westernized homo sapien social orders, especially the "Disintegrate Iran into the mother of all resource/economic/hostile takeovers" Order of Wetiko Weasels. We've heard Weasels are known for taking over the nests of other species. One would imagine there is plenty of protective heat emitted from both sides, perp and victim and the backup choirs of both sucking the bias out of whatever justification for Weasel presence goes around. Once the consequences of the Saturday Night Special, i.e.; primary Weasel weaponry, results of which may be infuriated bond holders, etc., no further global exchange is permitted for the original nest dwellers, at least for the duration of Phase Combat. Although we have also heard there is a time tested, trust-based way around this. It is highly likely we'll be revisiting that particular system of exchange as the Weasels near ever closer to Full Spectrum Dominance with their unique brand of bulldozing, garbage compacting, earth-moving genocide. Start with clearing the property of human vegetable material, next, lay in sprinklers to soften the soil for tomorrow's state of the art interrogation basements. I can't stand to see it, again, and again, the full body waxing formula cast in stone, Rumsfeld's pornographic dream of known unknowns come to full flower, a small and powerful coalition of roving international forces available, anytime, anywhere, quelling hotspots throughout the world on a moment's notice. (Are you used to the former US commercial airports manager as SecDef in chief, yet? No?) And then what, when there is no more conquering to be accomplished, along with its attendant nightmares and serial slaughter, we ask, do they start over, reduced to warring over spoils among themselves, cuz we know they can't just quit and walk away? All to sustain the impossibility of infinite growth, swindling greenhorn shareholders into supporting the peak of the pyramid whose chief beneficiaries vanish from the headlines when the floor collapses, the ICC bent sideways under a burgeoning backlog of past patsy criminal investigations many of which may never see the light of justice if they want continuing economic cooperation from the global community, translated as continuing liquidity from the greater global printing press. Geeze, its not like the joint squeaks by at all at the pleasure of Tony Soprano or something, is it? Once they get their hooks in, it only encourages more and worse of the same, forever fouling sovereign nests taken in the thrill of the kill, offing the seed of offspring to prevent any possibility future generations just might develop the temerity to look homeward as the Weasels settle in with faux Constitutional declarations and faux contractual claims to stolen fortune, unearned, undeserved. Rinse and repeat.
"Everything is on the table."
When you read that sentence, or hear it, even typing it, it manifests an eerie cloudiness, a porous bamboo spear sizzling though razorwire, generating fabrications that nobody believes and eventually learns its too flammable to even whisper in most social interactions. Who talks like that anyway? What kind of mindset sashays atop the prized Persian carpet, hands in pockets, necktie pinned tightly in place, smears on a dour face melting into pockmarked pixels under the global lights and pronounces such a bizarrity? With a pause before and after the sentence as if the weight of those words has long been calculated in the digitized, fusion funneled versions of Probabilities and Statistics which comes after Calculus if you're any good at it. Or if you have a bit of the linear brain in you. This action leads to this result, all of these actions lead to all of these results, one plus one equals two, questions are not permitted, nor is close examination, metaphorical comparisons are to be shot on sight or better, annihilate the entire region, apply chemtrails so we can breathe without gasping for CO2 by the time contracts are let. A quadrillion zillion tiny slivers of colored glass and marbled mirror reflect the story echoing throughout pillared halls and archways in centuries old architectural splendor where all gather at dawn, on their knees, heads to the ground, genuflecting in unison, complete oneness in brotherhood with collective faith, collective unbearable loss and victimization bearing up under insane pressures, abandoned of all hope all ye of the formerly God-given right to exist in peace. The man is on the move, Collaterals, beware, your time nears. We urge you to locate refuge and enact your evacuation plans as the No-fly Zone banner flutters into place above the shifting dunes and tightening straits, white phosphorus, escalating extreme munitions and eye in the sky surveillance portends the impossibility of any later exodus. Cellos weep in minor, string sawing bass, intermission is over, the curtains part, Apocalypse Now, part two-redux, the part with body parts and streaming blood, guts and gore, little people flaying arms, running tear-streaked scattering, the smell of Napalm in the morning ...
... The foreign sun, it squints upon
A bed that is never mine
As friends and other strangers
From their fates try to resign
Leaving men wholly, totally free
To do anything they wish to do but die
And there are no trials inside the Gates of Eden...
Dylan, Gates of Eden
We will never go forward if we cannot cease revisiting the past, the past being an Objects in the mirror are larger than they appear mix of gelatinous thought balloons and scratchy black and white home movies, scripted by early childhood patterns where the stars are the entire cast, seen through your lens, molded by antiquity, in memory lock-boxes, broken into simple paragraphs for easy recitation should the need arise, as it sometimes will, complete with peak special effects and categorized under autobiographical summaries. If you took a microscope to the stills you would discover unidentifiable ghostly figures lingering in the background, beyond the camera's frame, mocking the events, cattle branding their own version of reality in challenge to yours. Is this time going to be any different than any other time in all of history? It is always the same Trail of Tears expanded to suit seven billion needy, seeking souls adjusting, adapting each with his own past and pregnant future, the movement of Jah people.
*****
In dissection of the Instamatic public relations campaign surrounding the serial killings stirred with peyote bitters flavoring the cruelty wars on top of resource wars on top of wars of suppression and out of favor with the agency strawdog wars, it is stupefying once again to fully digest the utter lack of respect or appreciation for the mentality of ordinary citizen bystanders going about their lives hungering for normalcy, in spite of normal having lost any credibility as a lifestyle in sadsack Beetle Bailey's Fear and Loathing Smackfest. We are pressed into "compassion without choice" for the untreated alkie, he is today portrayed as fallen hero, just another little person helplessly trapped exactly as millions of others suffering financial woes, foreclosure, a father of toddlers, the hero's marital union blissful, but stressed under economic hardship and loathing the separation of repeated Middle East deployments. Amazing, huh? We are tortured through media to love our homegrown Ted Bundies. Only three days ago, his alcohol problem and anger management arrests saturated the airwaves, including a brief mention of Major Someone you know from somewhere else attempting a sneak-in under the fence upon reaching base post slaughter, somehow he emerges to recover from one damning image only to morph into the confusing demeanor of victim. Excuse me? And those sixteen heinous acts of pointless murder? Nine children, three women included, are they not the victims? It becomes even harder separating fact from psycho fiction after pouring the entire situation into the re-election machine, coating the most merciless extinguisher in dripdry vote worthy good boy sheen, tell me again, God is on whose side today? Watch for the defense to A) plea post traumatic shock and B) cop rehab as justice.
Friday, June 03, 2011
Lighting the Pyre: a portrait in child abuse
A rather perfect metaphor for the state of our new national lifestyle happens to be playing out at this very moment under the noses of one of the largest gatherings of tabloidiers in America's favorite conference city, Orlando. Yes, its the sad, sorry show trial of "Tot Mom", Casey Anthony. Since the OJ freeway chase, these trials have become commercially sponsored circuses where every irrelevant detail is allowed a full day, often weeks, in sideshows where everyone who is someone presses or is pressured repeatedly to resolve actually nothing. It seems in this latest Orlando tent revival encircled with news caravans swaying to the chorus of death penalty, cold blooded monster, spiteful bitch, etc, nowhere is there mention of a father for the dead child. You'll have to think about that one, and when you do, it will remind you of a swirling Twilight Zone vortex sucking you far, far down the rabbit hole into long and winding secret tunnels, each of them detours and cul de sacs lined with casinos, choir boys, Super 8's and fast food chains. Mind you, I pay attention to this trial reluctantly. Our old friend Pirate Rick once said about these things, its like trying not to look at a horrible car accident... as you inch by in first gear under direction from the highway patrol.
Ahem, cough cough, and how is that different from the general state of affairs?
This Tot Mom story is interesting because the seriously damaged defendant on trial for murder simply cannot speak truthfully on any issue at all. That she cannot tell the truth about ANYthing, many unrelated or very much related witnesses on the stand can lie and walk free since next to Tot Mom, everyone else testifying appears innocent and is excused from guilt. If you have a chance to see this girl in action what you are seeing is an extraordinarily advanced product of civilization in disaster, a modern day dysfunctional family up to their eyeballs in abuse. The upbringing of such a defendant becomes obvious as the storyline continues to guarantee further depletion of Floridian taxpayers pockets. I give this one months in the oven and even then nothing about the story is obvious for the obvious here is what is brazenly ignored in favor of execution. It is this summer's Coliseum act. Glancing at the MSM sites tells us it is a ratings smash. You have to imagine there are more than a few swaps riding on the verdict.
Let's see, if you were beaten to a pulp as a child you would soon learn to lie about whatever it was that caused the beatings. Let's say the infractions were always minor, like not making your bed or keeping your drawers neat enough, and let's say it made no difference, minor infractions were treated as serious criminal offense each and every time without regard to degree of the offense, eventually a child adapts themselves for survival by distorting any truth in order to escape punishment. Now, imagine both parents of such a child never spoke truthfully either, that every word was a denial of responsibility through subterfuge and little coalitions agreeing with one another's fabrications on every single issue that came along, even that of being fully unable to cancel an appointment without spinning a web of transparent and complicated whoppers. Remarkably, this upside down and backwards family receives the kiss of lily whiteness while Tot Mom becomes further separated from the world of the living. And yet, nothing to date has come up that in any way resembles truth. It is as if the jury is deaf and blind and the prosecution's vampire fangs drip blood on the industrial carpet of modern justice's architectural flooring. This event is of course only one of many more to come as technology partners with the global economy to stay high on the Forbes list with all the extreme and previously unimaginable tortures reducing world population to a more manageable size and expense, simultaneously producing glowing quarterly growth reports.
One item of note in this bloodthirsty carnival that evades discussion concerns the father of the dead toddler. Um, where is he? Who is he? Why is he never mentioned? Its a simple question, isn't it. Perhaps something was said before I looked behind the pulpit? Its possible, in fact you may wonder how I could be posting about this trial at all. No problem, the Fireteacher is the TV guy here, I pass through the room where he watches hundreds of times a day in my position as friend doing my chores of support, and whatever is blaring on the box meets my ears, like it or not, if anything it stimulates the aura of ambient anguish. One could fall into compete spiritual fulfillment without the grinding vocals of analysts analyzing computer generated news because the Internet killed the physical papers and they had to make up the loss keyboarding in ones and zeros like everybody else if they were going to keep up appearances as vitally important to global economic growth in transition. (Cough, cough, must be getting a cold ...) The longer the Apocalypse stretches out, the more variations of dysfunction come into the spotlight. The more absurd the circus acts, drunken, oxycodoned, opiated and chloroformed to both seller and buyer, the more fantastic these distortions of reality become and there my friends, lies our true growth as a species, giving willing and gutturally brazen acceptance to Orwellian mass hatred by the numbers and again, it appears a smash.
Yesterday morning as I was leashing little Bernie for his stroll, the squawk box attached to a satellite network was trembling with cartoon lightening zig zags concerning a controversy between political analysts having to do with a few states' new plan to drug test food stamp recipients. Maybe they should take a poll among the African Americans in Oakland to see how well that might work out as a clever cost cutting measure to trim the deficit? And, btw, can anyone tell me what we are doing in Afghanistan?
There was a time not too long ago, black gold was all the talk, but no more. Its got lots of company as the land melts away under mining wastewater and radiation encircles the globe, this must be what it is like to smother slowly inside a bank vault.
Back to the trial, children are sponges, they take on their parents patterns helped along with more advanced patterns of the same behaviors as they mature and observe. Try to keep that in mind when you run into denial. Denial is not a genetic trait, it is a learned self-preservation strategy. Ideally, humans should not be forced to deny anything, but as technology advances, lies become ubiquitous because every aspect of the greater denial is charted for approval and receiving high marks for complete, multi-tiered, tinseled fabrications such as the recent resurrection of Osama. High approval ratings equate to big investments which benefits ... oh, guess who.
Tot Mom's entire family is hiding a horrible secret. So noxious is the truth behind this story, they are willing to crucify each other on the stand before revealing anything even hinting at this secret which of course, they are sworn to do under oath. Since 2008, they've continued the charade of forthright honesty all the while building walls of deceit to protect that which they are loathe to utter and yet, having lost a granddaughter, the life of their only daughter/sister is thrown under the bus to protect their magazine image, their collective representative-selves, rather than see the remainder of their days on Earth tarnished with the ugly stain of perversion and abuse. No doubt the truth will come out one day, but possibly not in time to save Casey from execution. It is a shame to watch these characters portray the drama mirrored daily in political life, the corporatocracy and its filthy policies, foreign and otherwise, which regularly throw entire populations under the bus as well. Post traumatic shock, dysfunctional leadership and the abuses they perpetrate always make a delicate situation worse with after-effects trickling down wherever exists the path of least resistance - among the innocent, the unaware, the suffering, denied the God-given right to flower into maturity, instead forced to shrivel under the boot. What we find ultimately repulsive are the crowds pointing and shouting blame while possessing no insight into how these situations come to pass or what they portend for our shared futures.
Update: As I ready this post for publication, the trial pundits seem to have taken a new twist, CNN is actually arguing over Tot Mom as traumatized victim of sexual abuse by her solid citizen father, former police officer, but will it stick or be shouted down by the hungry crowds thrilling to the circus? We might know by the time the next "giving" season rolls around - or not. A this point, it would not be out of the ballpark to say this particular circus has real potential for indefinite repeats as the subjects under examination take the broken middle class off the pages of human history forever.
Ahem, cough cough, and how is that different from the general state of affairs?
This Tot Mom story is interesting because the seriously damaged defendant on trial for murder simply cannot speak truthfully on any issue at all. That she cannot tell the truth about ANYthing, many unrelated or very much related witnesses on the stand can lie and walk free since next to Tot Mom, everyone else testifying appears innocent and is excused from guilt. If you have a chance to see this girl in action what you are seeing is an extraordinarily advanced product of civilization in disaster, a modern day dysfunctional family up to their eyeballs in abuse. The upbringing of such a defendant becomes obvious as the storyline continues to guarantee further depletion of Floridian taxpayers pockets. I give this one months in the oven and even then nothing about the story is obvious for the obvious here is what is brazenly ignored in favor of execution. It is this summer's Coliseum act. Glancing at the MSM sites tells us it is a ratings smash. You have to imagine there are more than a few swaps riding on the verdict.
Let's see, if you were beaten to a pulp as a child you would soon learn to lie about whatever it was that caused the beatings. Let's say the infractions were always minor, like not making your bed or keeping your drawers neat enough, and let's say it made no difference, minor infractions were treated as serious criminal offense each and every time without regard to degree of the offense, eventually a child adapts themselves for survival by distorting any truth in order to escape punishment. Now, imagine both parents of such a child never spoke truthfully either, that every word was a denial of responsibility through subterfuge and little coalitions agreeing with one another's fabrications on every single issue that came along, even that of being fully unable to cancel an appointment without spinning a web of transparent and complicated whoppers. Remarkably, this upside down and backwards family receives the kiss of lily whiteness while Tot Mom becomes further separated from the world of the living. And yet, nothing to date has come up that in any way resembles truth. It is as if the jury is deaf and blind and the prosecution's vampire fangs drip blood on the industrial carpet of modern justice's architectural flooring. This event is of course only one of many more to come as technology partners with the global economy to stay high on the Forbes list with all the extreme and previously unimaginable tortures reducing world population to a more manageable size and expense, simultaneously producing glowing quarterly growth reports.
One item of note in this bloodthirsty carnival that evades discussion concerns the father of the dead toddler. Um, where is he? Who is he? Why is he never mentioned? Its a simple question, isn't it. Perhaps something was said before I looked behind the pulpit? Its possible, in fact you may wonder how I could be posting about this trial at all. No problem, the Fireteacher is the TV guy here, I pass through the room where he watches hundreds of times a day in my position as friend doing my chores of support, and whatever is blaring on the box meets my ears, like it or not, if anything it stimulates the aura of ambient anguish. One could fall into compete spiritual fulfillment without the grinding vocals of analysts analyzing computer generated news because the Internet killed the physical papers and they had to make up the loss keyboarding in ones and zeros like everybody else if they were going to keep up appearances as vitally important to global economic growth in transition. (Cough, cough, must be getting a cold ...) The longer the Apocalypse stretches out, the more variations of dysfunction come into the spotlight. The more absurd the circus acts, drunken, oxycodoned, opiated and chloroformed to both seller and buyer, the more fantastic these distortions of reality become and there my friends, lies our true growth as a species, giving willing and gutturally brazen acceptance to Orwellian mass hatred by the numbers and again, it appears a smash.
Yesterday morning as I was leashing little Bernie for his stroll, the squawk box attached to a satellite network was trembling with cartoon lightening zig zags concerning a controversy between political analysts having to do with a few states' new plan to drug test food stamp recipients. Maybe they should take a poll among the African Americans in Oakland to see how well that might work out as a clever cost cutting measure to trim the deficit? And, btw, can anyone tell me what we are doing in Afghanistan?
There was a time not too long ago, black gold was all the talk, but no more. Its got lots of company as the land melts away under mining wastewater and radiation encircles the globe, this must be what it is like to smother slowly inside a bank vault.
Back to the trial, children are sponges, they take on their parents patterns helped along with more advanced patterns of the same behaviors as they mature and observe. Try to keep that in mind when you run into denial. Denial is not a genetic trait, it is a learned self-preservation strategy. Ideally, humans should not be forced to deny anything, but as technology advances, lies become ubiquitous because every aspect of the greater denial is charted for approval and receiving high marks for complete, multi-tiered, tinseled fabrications such as the recent resurrection of Osama. High approval ratings equate to big investments which benefits ... oh, guess who.
Tot Mom's entire family is hiding a horrible secret. So noxious is the truth behind this story, they are willing to crucify each other on the stand before revealing anything even hinting at this secret which of course, they are sworn to do under oath. Since 2008, they've continued the charade of forthright honesty all the while building walls of deceit to protect that which they are loathe to utter and yet, having lost a granddaughter, the life of their only daughter/sister is thrown under the bus to protect their magazine image, their collective representative-selves, rather than see the remainder of their days on Earth tarnished with the ugly stain of perversion and abuse. No doubt the truth will come out one day, but possibly not in time to save Casey from execution. It is a shame to watch these characters portray the drama mirrored daily in political life, the corporatocracy and its filthy policies, foreign and otherwise, which regularly throw entire populations under the bus as well. Post traumatic shock, dysfunctional leadership and the abuses they perpetrate always make a delicate situation worse with after-effects trickling down wherever exists the path of least resistance - among the innocent, the unaware, the suffering, denied the God-given right to flower into maturity, instead forced to shrivel under the boot. What we find ultimately repulsive are the crowds pointing and shouting blame while possessing no insight into how these situations come to pass or what they portend for our shared futures.
Update: As I ready this post for publication, the trial pundits seem to have taken a new twist, CNN is actually arguing over Tot Mom as traumatized victim of sexual abuse by her solid citizen father, former police officer, but will it stick or be shouted down by the hungry crowds thrilling to the circus? We might know by the time the next "giving" season rolls around - or not. A this point, it would not be out of the ballpark to say this particular circus has real potential for indefinite repeats as the subjects under examination take the broken middle class off the pages of human history forever.
Monday, May 02, 2011
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?
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.
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:
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.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Atlantis off the starboard bow
Sometimes we miss important things because we are shown something else. Now, that something else has validity too, or we wouldn't be pointed in that direction, the best action being to look everywhere and ye shall find - that is if you are interested in finding. I'm not talking intentional diversion here, I am speaking of trusted sources that want us to know what they are thinking about a situation. As always, we, the readers, are expected to make of it what we will. We've seen a lot of worthy sources slammed and you know, anything positive can be argued to its negative if you happen to be arguing truths with a good con, a better con than yourself. Me, I don't take cons well, I don't know enough about anything to be good at debating the opposite side from which I stand which means I will fiercely defend the side on which I stand. A case in point would be a site I visited until recently, recently because I've since removed any reference to him, where the author took it upon himself to point out rudely why the views belonging to a noted member in good standing with our little love community here were flawed. This pissed me off no end because it was a con job in action revealing that the con artist had never taken the time to examine our friend's views in their entirety as well as revealing the con artist's motive which was to make himself appear all knowing, all seeing which to the best of my knowledge are not exactly human traits. "Out of context" hearsay does not make a case. Another example that comes to mind is one friend with some literary weight slamming another friend's blog, a tome of nothing but hard truth on the basis that the author was a heh, spook, like who cares? If spooks are telling truths, sign me up. Whenever I run into these things, its hurts me, saddens me, to see that so many forget what we are doing here at all. Now here we are on a new post today and I'm planning on using a few links for a little more in-depth analysis and I want to make it clear, please read them with your own interpretations. Put aside hearsay and pay attention to the content. That is all I ask, make up your mind about the content under discussion for yourself. Perhaps it is best to let go forming any opinions at all and just digest the material. After you do that long enough, an opinion will come about on its own and it will be all your's, no one else's. And once you have opinions based solely on your own interpretation, you will have something fairly close to the truth. It almost doesn't matter where the information comes from as long as you've taken in a broad spectrum so that a bigger picture emerges.
Here is a typically large batch of binary numbers representing a terrible truth from a source that is somewhat questionable only because they do not, for the most part, pass the famous Wikileaks litmus test. Yet, I go there anyway and very often find something worthwhile in the mix, which today is this essay by Hirose Takashi. It is translated from Japanese and a little sketchy at first, but the message is completely clear. I liken all of us busy or not so busy human beings doing whatever we do, however we do it, to life in the final days of Atlantis. In doing so and seeing ourselves as compassionate people, can you put yourself in the shoes (gaeta) of the Japanese? Try it. Imagination is integral to compassion. Feel it? There they are, living inside the bizarre circumstance of globalism along with the rest of the developed nations and doing the best they can, as we do, with the little they have, as we do, going about the business of ordinary life, as we do, until one normal evening suddenly everything not sucked into the giant washing machine of the homicidal tsunami went up in radioactive steam. For real, my friends, as the evacuation zone widens, more and more human beings are getting the word, you can never go home again. Worse, this condition is growing exponentially as the Pacific Plate refuses to settle down and the globe is dotted with egregious cauldrons of death. Adaptation to instant annihilation is a state of existence we need to explore and grow comfortable with since there is little doubt it will happen, at anytime, anywhere, which includes it happening to every one of us. This state of existence presently binds most of the Japanese population, whether its on the schmooze or not. In fact, when it is not stated or understated, it is deliberate because in the event all the innocent and trusting simple folk get the idea they've been super-conned, who knows what could happen? A lot more people know subliminally what is going on than we realize, be assured the deniers have made a pact with themselves not to think about it. It doesn't exist. Nuclear energy is the way of the future. That much IS true since in the future entire continents will be uninhabitable.
We are already bumping up hard against what is coming, its too obvious for the outspoken among us to stay silent for long. We are seeing the death of species, the land, the oceans, its too much to destroy all at once, and too hardy while seemingly delicate. Life is fragile after all. Without an Earth-sized asteroid crashing into our planet taking everything out at once, the hit and run style we are witnessing commits its own suicide, here, over there, in front of you and behind you. It is a miracle you have been spared to this moment. But will you be spared in the next? If we look too long, or dwell on impending and current disasters too often, are we setting our own table for disaster? No, when we look as long as we feel is necessary, we invite compassion into our hearts regardless of what may or may not happen to us.
Meanwhile, the mighty shuck and jive train keeps a rollin' as if Tomorrow, tomorrow, the sun will come out tomorrow, its only a day away. Lots of money and a purchased judiciary make fine insulators from fate, temporarily I might add. Holograms, stunt men and tinseltown special FX don't have feelings or intelligence. You can, in your hour of need, like now, just tune it all out. Oh indeed, you have that magical ability unless you are being gang-raped in the hoosegow while under interrogation from hired mercenaries. Sometimes it appears our masters of the Universe would like us to feel sorry for them and sympathize with their shameful platter of impossibly difficult decisions. And certainly, it must be a hard thing to save the people, keep everyone calm, satisfy their needs, feed the hungry, the poor, if that was actually the case except its not. The Judas' shortcuts are too easy and convenience IS the hallmark of western democracies. These so-called democracies are the exact opposite of true democracy, which we could have had and will not live to see. We could have been great, we could have done it right, we could have had peace on Earth and good will instead we exist in a flimsy multi-generational toxic bubble readying to burst.
If you have ever seen some of the Discovery Channel documentaries on how life began you would be awed that we turned out in the forms we did. We could have taken any form, or shape, we could have had two heads for example although Nature is not random, Nature is too efficient knowing two heads would spend a lifetime trying to kill each other for sole control over the one body. Evolution an interesting concept to dwell on while you are struggling to keep your one head above water, what a silly little world we have made to play on, how cleverly ergonomic we are with our digitized hands built for survival the same way Mountain Goats' hoofs work for their survival and birds/insects wings allow them to fly to nutrition atop the tallest trees, but those fingers of mankind are useful for molding weaponry, pulling triggers, yanking the joystick, slaughtering whole families and thumb texting, overdeveloping and then calling in the wrecking ball, rather like building little communities with those tiny German toy blocks in the mesh bag complete with farm animals, schools, work buildings and clock towers. It was fun, wasn't it, until somebody came along and jackbooted it all sky high. Well, it wasn't permanent anyway, nothing is, with the exception of course, being love.
There is a remarkable Oak up in the mountains where we live, it has grown itself around an old stag, a former Oak, now a Woodpeckers' acorn bank. I previously posted it uncropped when the emphasis was on the newborn Lambs. Only lately have I stood under it to figure out just exactly what happened there. The whole ensemble stands as living proof that Nature has a will of its own, and yet the ignorance and lust of humans in this tawdry epoch never gave it the credence it deserves and now it is too late. This is no longer a matter of revolution against tyrants or undergoing a revolution within ourselves. Mankind has no power over the Tectonic plates. And, hey, while we're at it, tell me what power mankind has over the sea? As a longtime sailor I can tell you what we used to tell ourselves in dread weather, no land in sight, radio broken, lost in uncharted territory, down to half cup of water per day, dreaming I was on land and waking to see sunlight pouring in the hatch above my bunk knowing the dream was a brief escape from the living nightmare, you can survive the sea, but you can never master it. Which is very much the same place we find ourselves today, on or off land, wherever you happen to be. You might survive disaster, but you can never control it. Interpret that any way you want interspersing any conditions lying in the minefield of these times.
I recommend seeing a beautiful Mongolian documentary, The Weeping Camel. You can watch it in full at the site. Leaving our roots behind and following along with the nonsense of unlimited growth and progress while warring against those who do not participate, is just one, but likely the dominate fault causing our demise. The truth is we're not good enough to deserve this planet. We didn't love it enough, and now we are losing it.
Sayonara
Oaks and Lamb photograph, c. 2011 Deep into Artlife West
Weeping Camels Photograph by Juliane/nationalgeographic.com
Here is a typically large batch of binary numbers representing a terrible truth from a source that is somewhat questionable only because they do not, for the most part, pass the famous Wikileaks litmus test. Yet, I go there anyway and very often find something worthwhile in the mix, which today is this essay by Hirose Takashi. It is translated from Japanese and a little sketchy at first, but the message is completely clear. I liken all of us busy or not so busy human beings doing whatever we do, however we do it, to life in the final days of Atlantis. In doing so and seeing ourselves as compassionate people, can you put yourself in the shoes (gaeta) of the Japanese? Try it. Imagination is integral to compassion. Feel it? There they are, living inside the bizarre circumstance of globalism along with the rest of the developed nations and doing the best they can, as we do, with the little they have, as we do, going about the business of ordinary life, as we do, until one normal evening suddenly everything not sucked into the giant washing machine of the homicidal tsunami went up in radioactive steam. For real, my friends, as the evacuation zone widens, more and more human beings are getting the word, you can never go home again. Worse, this condition is growing exponentially as the Pacific Plate refuses to settle down and the globe is dotted with egregious cauldrons of death. Adaptation to instant annihilation is a state of existence we need to explore and grow comfortable with since there is little doubt it will happen, at anytime, anywhere, which includes it happening to every one of us. This state of existence presently binds most of the Japanese population, whether its on the schmooze or not. In fact, when it is not stated or understated, it is deliberate because in the event all the innocent and trusting simple folk get the idea they've been super-conned, who knows what could happen? A lot more people know subliminally what is going on than we realize, be assured the deniers have made a pact with themselves not to think about it. It doesn't exist. Nuclear energy is the way of the future. That much IS true since in the future entire continents will be uninhabitable.
We are already bumping up hard against what is coming, its too obvious for the outspoken among us to stay silent for long. We are seeing the death of species, the land, the oceans, its too much to destroy all at once, and too hardy while seemingly delicate. Life is fragile after all. Without an Earth-sized asteroid crashing into our planet taking everything out at once, the hit and run style we are witnessing commits its own suicide, here, over there, in front of you and behind you. It is a miracle you have been spared to this moment. But will you be spared in the next? If we look too long, or dwell on impending and current disasters too often, are we setting our own table for disaster? No, when we look as long as we feel is necessary, we invite compassion into our hearts regardless of what may or may not happen to us.
Meanwhile, the mighty shuck and jive train keeps a rollin' as if Tomorrow, tomorrow, the sun will come out tomorrow, its only a day away. Lots of money and a purchased judiciary make fine insulators from fate, temporarily I might add. Holograms, stunt men and tinseltown special FX don't have feelings or intelligence. You can, in your hour of need, like now, just tune it all out. Oh indeed, you have that magical ability unless you are being gang-raped in the hoosegow while under interrogation from hired mercenaries. Sometimes it appears our masters of the Universe would like us to feel sorry for them and sympathize with their shameful platter of impossibly difficult decisions. And certainly, it must be a hard thing to save the people, keep everyone calm, satisfy their needs, feed the hungry, the poor, if that was actually the case except its not. The Judas' shortcuts are too easy and convenience IS the hallmark of western democracies. These so-called democracies are the exact opposite of true democracy, which we could have had and will not live to see. We could have been great, we could have done it right, we could have had peace on Earth and good will instead we exist in a flimsy multi-generational toxic bubble readying to burst.
If you have ever seen some of the Discovery Channel documentaries on how life began you would be awed that we turned out in the forms we did. We could have taken any form, or shape, we could have had two heads for example although Nature is not random, Nature is too efficient knowing two heads would spend a lifetime trying to kill each other for sole control over the one body. Evolution an interesting concept to dwell on while you are struggling to keep your one head above water, what a silly little world we have made to play on, how cleverly ergonomic we are with our digitized hands built for survival the same way Mountain Goats' hoofs work for their survival and birds/insects wings allow them to fly to nutrition atop the tallest trees, but those fingers of mankind are useful for molding weaponry, pulling triggers, yanking the joystick, slaughtering whole families and thumb texting, overdeveloping and then calling in the wrecking ball, rather like building little communities with those tiny German toy blocks in the mesh bag complete with farm animals, schools, work buildings and clock towers. It was fun, wasn't it, until somebody came along and jackbooted it all sky high. Well, it wasn't permanent anyway, nothing is, with the exception of course, being love.
There is a remarkable Oak up in the mountains where we live, it has grown itself around an old stag, a former Oak, now a Woodpeckers' acorn bank. I previously posted it uncropped when the emphasis was on the newborn Lambs. Only lately have I stood under it to figure out just exactly what happened there. The whole ensemble stands as living proof that Nature has a will of its own, and yet the ignorance and lust of humans in this tawdry epoch never gave it the credence it deserves and now it is too late. This is no longer a matter of revolution against tyrants or undergoing a revolution within ourselves. Mankind has no power over the Tectonic plates. And, hey, while we're at it, tell me what power mankind has over the sea? As a longtime sailor I can tell you what we used to tell ourselves in dread weather, no land in sight, radio broken, lost in uncharted territory, down to half cup of water per day, dreaming I was on land and waking to see sunlight pouring in the hatch above my bunk knowing the dream was a brief escape from the living nightmare, you can survive the sea, but you can never master it. Which is very much the same place we find ourselves today, on or off land, wherever you happen to be. You might survive disaster, but you can never control it. Interpret that any way you want interspersing any conditions lying in the minefield of these times.
I recommend seeing a beautiful Mongolian documentary, The Weeping Camel. You can watch it in full at the site. Leaving our roots behind and following along with the nonsense of unlimited growth and progress while warring against those who do not participate, is just one, but likely the dominate fault causing our demise. The truth is we're not good enough to deserve this planet. We didn't love it enough, and now we are losing it.Sayonara
Oaks and Lamb photograph, c. 2011 Deep into Artlife West
Weeping Camels Photograph by Juliane/nationalgeographic.com
Thursday, March 31, 2011
postcard from Planet Backwards
We may have been transported to another planet while we slept. A planet where everything appears as it was when you went to bed, but the rules are different. The certainty is gone, nothing can be counted on to be what you thought it was, including mirrors which show only your preening representative-self, but these mirrors now imported from somewhere gawd only knows, are part of the new, New World lifestyles we all lead helplessly where right is wrong and black is white. I've said it before and will say it again, no one is immune. I'm quite sure you know how it goes, these sudden spring days give us a nostalgia, a screen door barefoot kind of summery happy sadness, something deep within the heart wants to go home again, but we don't really know where home is anymore. Perhaps it never was real considering how much is being revealed in the present, perhaps it was only a lyric in a song you resonated with or an artwork that spoke to you in a way that touched you and you reminisced about something hazy that was just a dream on your way to partake in continuing the dream as if it was endless. And then, BRRRRIIING BRRRRIIING, the cell woke you up with a scam call, an 800 number announcing BofA was here to help. As if anyone needs that kind of help. "Your social please."
I'm thinking about the recent events trying to separate my own conclusions from everyone else's observations. The problem seems to be that so many windup clacking dental jaws make their definitive pronouncements on these situations which muddles us and it takes a lot of silence and a good amount of disgust before strange new worldie ideas come creepin' round. In the midst of this jibber jabber, we forge on with our normal routines, so following my own advice, I make a point to remember fleeting thoughts no matter how absurd because after all, absurdity is rational on Planet Backwards.
To begin with, I labored for years upon years under one set of inviolate basics and as I matured, I took it for granted everyone else matured mentally and spiritually as well. Oh, ho ho. I blew off the Clinton years as a single parent which takes up a lot of attention and time leaving one somewhat ill-equipped to peer into the mysterious direction our world is taking, so when 2001 came along, and the bullhorner kept harping on attacks, I was stunned. Did he mean war? Had we not grown beyond that? What? That's video game nonsense, comics, sandbox bullying. He couldn't be serious! However, obviously we had already been transported and 2001 was the wake-up year we debarked as unwilling hostages, searched and tagged into Planet Backwards. Was it AD, BC, or NWO time? We can't know for sure, that's one of the chief hallmarks of this joint, nothing is what you are forced into pretending it is. Let's take this BP hit for example, didn't they used to be that gas station outfit with Swiss-style greenie graphics? On Planet Backwards, they are a ludicrously wealthy and universally powerful energy provider which appears to possess enough chutzpah to claw a hole in the tectonic plates holding our previous planet in place. And you know what that means, well the plates kept a movin' and a shiftin' until all those tender, flaming tectonic platters overlapped on top of each other and BOOM, there went Japan. Tragedy of all tragedies, Japan proved itself just as ill-equipped as I was to peer into the direction the wonderful wheels of progress had taken them. During all the years they should have known better, they were desperately balancing non-existent yen from a bone dry piggy bank rather than thinking about their rice paper villages despite the 1997 Kyoto Protocols on Climate Change. You have to imagine those very intelligent people that studiously researched the issues got an education that may well have saved their once exquisite paradise given the opportunity to speak truthfully where it counts. Somewhere there are some sad human beings, disoriented and displaced to shelters asking themselves why they took no for an answer.
Then I think about us, what an unholy mess was made of that sweet dream, guaranteed to get messier. Where does it end, you'll notice it is not even paring off, not in the slightest. Is everyone supposed to be homeless? They say this year is a bad one for housing, the word is foreclosures this year will beat all the previous years. Our economy is still in the toilet and the cowardly laureate only worsens the wound with a little altruistic interventionism which when you think about it, isn't this exactly what ignites the bubble bath? Well, around the hallowed dinner tables where pundits are not allowed, a big fat dose of grisly war is just the right prescription for an ailing economy. From Planet Backwards where war is peace, our telescopic star gazers hint stubborn Col. Qaddafi may have given the interventionists (ridiculous label alert) the gift of continuing consumptive prosperity. Does slave labor in China make those gilded plastic coffins for export?
Maybe it would have been more clever to save this entry for April Fools' Day, but many bloggers actually write posts in advance, and with the never ending advent of technology one simply clicks the mouse and posts appear at some exact time and date of their choice. I always wondered on every April 1st, who is the fool?
The sheep are doing very well. All the kids are behaving like human children, busy, curious, enchanted, hungry, frolicking, joyous. They never just walk, they leap and hop. These particular sheep really have it good on Planet Backwards. If we just had wool coats and three-chambered stomachs, we could graze our hearts away too, never having to worry about anything other than staying dry in rainy weather. Although, with their extreme super-coats, rain water bounces right off. The day pen was moved much closer this morning and they are practically grazing at our door. I moved my drawing table right up to the corner windows for some gesture drawings of these guys. Gesture drawings are quick, (one minute is too long) rough pencil sketches for the purpose of loosening one's hand as well as improving the eye's understanding of anatomy so that you learn to see what IS and how it feels, rather than what you thought it was or surmised how it felt. Any art school worth its tuition fees spends the entire foundation year on Nicolaides gesture drawing techniques with live, nude models. This is known as Life Drawing 101. If you don't get to do this, you are condemned to spend your years on Planet Earth doing scritchy scratch on ruled notebook paper. Heh, I am a purist. not.
Allow me to close this post with sincere condolences, comfort and love to the Beageant family and to our brilliant and talented friends, Brian and Chickory, on their recent losses. Joe and those adored Mothers (great women who raised great people) are free at last. Praise Jah and His compassionate benevolence, when we have finally had enough He is there.
I'm thinking about the recent events trying to separate my own conclusions from everyone else's observations. The problem seems to be that so many windup clacking dental jaws make their definitive pronouncements on these situations which muddles us and it takes a lot of silence and a good amount of disgust before strange new worldie ideas come creepin' round. In the midst of this jibber jabber, we forge on with our normal routines, so following my own advice, I make a point to remember fleeting thoughts no matter how absurd because after all, absurdity is rational on Planet Backwards.
To begin with, I labored for years upon years under one set of inviolate basics and as I matured, I took it for granted everyone else matured mentally and spiritually as well. Oh, ho ho. I blew off the Clinton years as a single parent which takes up a lot of attention and time leaving one somewhat ill-equipped to peer into the mysterious direction our world is taking, so when 2001 came along, and the bullhorner kept harping on attacks, I was stunned. Did he mean war? Had we not grown beyond that? What? That's video game nonsense, comics, sandbox bullying. He couldn't be serious! However, obviously we had already been transported and 2001 was the wake-up year we debarked as unwilling hostages, searched and tagged into Planet Backwards. Was it AD, BC, or NWO time? We can't know for sure, that's one of the chief hallmarks of this joint, nothing is what you are forced into pretending it is. Let's take this BP hit for example, didn't they used to be that gas station outfit with Swiss-style greenie graphics? On Planet Backwards, they are a ludicrously wealthy and universally powerful energy provider which appears to possess enough chutzpah to claw a hole in the tectonic plates holding our previous planet in place. And you know what that means, well the plates kept a movin' and a shiftin' until all those tender, flaming tectonic platters overlapped on top of each other and BOOM, there went Japan. Tragedy of all tragedies, Japan proved itself just as ill-equipped as I was to peer into the direction the wonderful wheels of progress had taken them. During all the years they should have known better, they were desperately balancing non-existent yen from a bone dry piggy bank rather than thinking about their rice paper villages despite the 1997 Kyoto Protocols on Climate Change. You have to imagine those very intelligent people that studiously researched the issues got an education that may well have saved their once exquisite paradise given the opportunity to speak truthfully where it counts. Somewhere there are some sad human beings, disoriented and displaced to shelters asking themselves why they took no for an answer.
Then I think about us, what an unholy mess was made of that sweet dream, guaranteed to get messier. Where does it end, you'll notice it is not even paring off, not in the slightest. Is everyone supposed to be homeless? They say this year is a bad one for housing, the word is foreclosures this year will beat all the previous years. Our economy is still in the toilet and the cowardly laureate only worsens the wound with a little altruistic interventionism which when you think about it, isn't this exactly what ignites the bubble bath? Well, around the hallowed dinner tables where pundits are not allowed, a big fat dose of grisly war is just the right prescription for an ailing economy. From Planet Backwards where war is peace, our telescopic star gazers hint stubborn Col. Qaddafi may have given the interventionists (ridiculous label alert) the gift of continuing consumptive prosperity. Does slave labor in China make those gilded plastic coffins for export?
Maybe it would have been more clever to save this entry for April Fools' Day, but many bloggers actually write posts in advance, and with the never ending advent of technology one simply clicks the mouse and posts appear at some exact time and date of their choice. I always wondered on every April 1st, who is the fool?
 |
| the Kids are alright |
 |
| Amos keeps an eye on his family from the big house |
 |
| Mother Scarlett watches too |
Allow me to close this post with sincere condolences, comfort and love to the Beageant family and to our brilliant and talented friends, Brian and Chickory, on their recent losses. Joe and those adored Mothers (great women who raised great people) are free at last. Praise Jah and His compassionate benevolence, when we have finally had enough He is there.
Monday, February 21, 2011
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.
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.
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.
... 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 VisibleNot 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 DostoevskyLove 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.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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