Friday, September 22, 2023

"The Good News... In Evil Times... Is That The Evildoers Give Each Other no Peace. They Are Constantly at War."

(I've found a workaround... The Nazgul still have me off the internet... but it's nothing for the intrepid mind.)

 God Poet Transmitting.......

This is the 2nd day that I have no internet access. It appears to be directed at this IP, though we are told it is otherwise. No reasons are given. All is mysterious. I suspect this is another Black Rock-Vanguard-State Street acquisition, and... I am reminded that I have been a little direct lately about one of the main drivers of The Ills of Humanity.

Last night... after I passed into the realm of the subconscious... I was with Elon Musk all night. Typically... in the dream states... I get along well with my companion(s). We have a number of discussions about this and that. None of them do I remember now, but I remember a lot of the comings and goings.

At one point we climbed a high tower. It was a thousand feet or so and there was a pinnacle atop it. The Winds were hard and it was winter. Going down was done from the outside. Climbing up had been from the inside. Usually, I am... and have been... very apprehensive of heights in my dreams. The going down was very steep but it did not seem to bother me.

There was a brother and sister dance act. They have some connection to Elon. They were rising stars in their field and there was something very aggressive and off-putting about them. It might have been that they were the parts of Elon. The female side was hidden but very active.

Later on, I was with an old girlfriend of mine and I was telling her about my time spent with Musk. It was one of those very real dreams and I am still able to remember a lot of it, but not anything that was said.

The night before, I had been with Bob Dylan all night. Once again, I can't remember much that got said except that we talked about my music. We were at some kind of a mall complex that had a race track in it. It was a lot like Yonkers' Race Track where I had been a time or two because a friend wanted to go. I didn't much care for the place.

It was full of wanna-be gangster types... with pinky rings... and disappointed, jaded female consorts. It was the same way in the dream. This dream also went on through the whole of the night. I often see celebrities in my dreams and I get along with them better than I imagine getting along with them in life.

Life has gotten very strange and I don't miss not being part of it. I am a real recluse these days and see almost no one. Life is strange here too with inexplicable happenings that I am told to take on faith. I am doing that.

It seems that Biblical prophecies are starting to appear in the wider world. However... it is happening in cartoon fashion, and the players are more like cartoons than people. Senator (snicker) Fetterman is an example. He obviously was a beneficiary of election fraud. He has near zero qualifications. This seems to be a coming trend. Dumb-ass shoe inserts are much easier to command than people who can think.

I keep thinking of Fetterman's head injury-depression caper, and it has been striking me that he might be The Wounded Beast of The Apocalypse as a personalization. They changed the dress code in The Senate from suit and tie to Seattle Grunge on his behalf. He no longer looks at all like himself. His tattoos went somewhere else. This is the kind of strange I am talking about.

I don't know what's transpired in The World in the last couple of days and I don't know when I'm going to be able to peer in again. I am going to have to find a Russian Internet firm and perhaps begin to post these transmissions on The Dark Net. It will require the reader to use the Tor Browser but... other than that... it's pretty simple.

I could watch TV news but that would be only lies and I can't bear more than a minute of that before I start talking back from a part of my persona that I don't use anymore because it has a distinct cutting edge. I could go somewhere and check but I don't care enough to do so. It suits me fine not to know what's going on in The World because I know it amounts to little that would interest me.

I'm not at all put off by this happening. It will come back on or it won't, and... eventually... I will get another internet portal that isn't owned by The Usual Suspects. I'm surprised they let me go on as long as they did. Of course... it's not up to them. They only think they run The Show. They will be finding out the truth of that shortly.

I don't think of what we do here as possessing any world-shaking importance. I'm just a tiny province, an island... somewhere in a vast and immeasurable sea. People come by like passing seabirds or schools of dolphins. I figure I must be on the way somewhere, and it is better than if no one stops at all; being a voice not entirely crying in The Wilderness.

The good news in evil times is that the evildoers give each other no peace. They are constantly at war, which is an essential part of their nature. Sooner or later they destroy each other and themselves. Evil is a temporary and passing phenomenon that shows up most noticeably in Times of Material Darkness. When Materialism is in its latter stages, the whole world turns into a dirty kitchen and the vermin are everywhere.

Of course... this means all sorts of opportunistic diseases as well. It means a constant assault on The Sacred Bowers of Lady Nature, and... sooner or later... she's had enough of that. God and the wardens of his creation are very patient. They've seen it all a million times a million. It's not something that's going to get out of control unless it is commanded to.

I've been told to rely on The Divine and to stand guard at the gateway of The Mind. That is all I am supposed to do... besides provide a running commentary that I channel from the station I am tuned to. I'm like a disc jockey. I play a selection of songs from a specific area of music, tailored to specific tastes.

Sometimes people come around and don't like the tunes. One would think they would simply go find a station that appeals to them, but... that is not always the case. I'm not partial to the tunes they want to play either... so... what doesn't go around doesn't come around... so to speak, and... I am not put off by that which I pay no attention to.

I don't have to worry about letting certain people into my head because my head is already occupied, and I have some pretty competent bouncers at the door. They've been doing this kind of work since Time particulated down from Eternity so... they know what they're doing. They've worked for me in other lives. We have a thing going on.

Some of us who do this work have lives of various kinds at different times. Occasionally they are cluttered like a painter's studio filled with works in progress. Other times the work goes on at a far remove from the noise-ridden rat-warrens of cities rising and then falling into disrepair. Always... the work preempts the life... to the displeasure of those seeking some measure of it OR... a controlling interest in what goes on.

We all have our passions. In most cases those passions are shared by large numbers of the population, which accounts for all the restaurants... resorts... gambling emporiums... escort services, and street hookers; depending on what you can afford.

Then there are the passions of the marketplace... the professions... the diplomas and official documents of the DBA sector. There are people pulling teeth and people rotting teeth. There are people stealing from you and people protecting you from theft, though... the latter... is not as present as once it was because the thieves got tired of the interference, AND... these being Times of Material Darkness, yeah... well, you know what I mean.

I don't much care about any of that. Those areas of enterprise reek of jealousy and envy... backbiting and people on the make. If you're any good at what you do, all kinds of people hate you. If you're not any good, you can probably get all kinds of slack and high positions these days.

We are in one of those critical stages. A lot is on the line, though most people only care about what they can get from it... or get through it... or wait it out; hoping for the best. People forget all about what's important during Times of Material Darkness. The heat from The Attractor Machines numbs The Mind and inflames The Heart. If you can remember The Point of Light at the center of it all... that would be good. That would be very good for you.

In times of pervasive confusion... when The World has turned into a free-for-all... and the very worst of human nature is on display... that is when the righteous warriors stand tall. That is when we see how few they are. Maybe they ignite their fellows... and maybe they don't. That's what The Purpose of Demonstration is here to show us.

End Transmission.......

I went into a little subjective musing today. It's relevant to the rest of the post and hopefully not too opaque for the reader.

There are now links at GAB=

A classic Visible post:

With gratitude to Patrick Willis.

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