Thursday, March 31, 2005

What Was I Thinking?

Man, what was I thinking? I read over that last mélange I put up and I have to ask myself; what was I thinking? I’m going to leave that up as evidence that I am changing all the time and just don’t realize I’ve moved beyond some things. Or, am I just in a quiet phase? Hmmm…

I really need to be pissed off to do this kind of thing and, frankly, I’m not pissed off. I’m in “zippidy do dah” mode actually. It’s not that I don’t agree with everything I said, I do. But I’m not sure of the need to say it. I guess all my work at the other blog has had a leavening effect on me. I don’t know how many thousands of years I’ve been around but it’s not like things have been all that different at any other time. Of course the stage the performance is taking place on has never been quite this polluted across the board, but otherwise it’s the usual mad-cap interactions of all the separated selves doing their King of Hearts rendition.

Of course, I could get pissed off I reckon, or I could be in passionate disagreement with something that comes up, so I’ll continue to come around here and see what my musings lead to as I sit in front of this monitor and wonder what I am supposed to say.

Once thing I find interesting, but not surprising, is how everything that has gone wrong is the fault of people who advised Bushligula and not the fault of ‘lil Boots Lite’ himself. No doubt it would be crass of me to point out that he then exercised poor judgment in terms of the people he chose to advise him; or suggest he was so clueless that he believed everything he was told. I won’t do that because I am convinced that he worked as hard as someone as lazy as he is, is capable of working to make sure that everything was fashioned to reflect the picture he wanted presented. Wow, that turned out okay. Heh heh...

It could be that I am lacking proper perspective, or the victim of bad internal chemicals or not bright enough or just flat-out wrong; it could be but it seems to me that when you take all of the things that have happened and factor in all the things they intend to happen that you, citizens of the world, are in for a bad ride. I look at the way events have been fashioned by the few who manipulate events for their own profit and certain inevitables come up on my radar screen. One thing for sure, you’re no longer living in a democracy. Certainly not when the last two elections were patently fixed and when members of congress can joke about counting the votes. Stalin said much the same thing.

I wrote a song ♫ in praise of France ♫ in my ‘9/11 was an Inside Job’ here.

You might like to listen to “Oh Kenny Boy” too while you’re there.

I did it because I believed it and because I want the U.S. and its Freedom Fry xenophobes to get a clue and also manifest a little steam under their polyester alligator golf shirts. I’ve got to watch that. I got sent to prison a few times for sticking my lance in the dragon’s ass. Why do I need to be so provocative? Maybe it’s all those planets in Libra. I get very annoyed at injustice and I don’t care who it is happening to. Of course I have no idea of the precise circumstance in terms of cosmic justice because I only see what’s in front of me and can’t always access The Akashic Records for the entire skinny on the matter.

I’ve spent most of my life transiting between the Don Quixote, the Richard Lovelace and the Cyrano de Bergerac aspects of my persona; along with long term visitations from my 'psychedelic shaman-self' and 'reckless intoxicated persona' as well as my recurrent and now, more or less present, 'yogic persona'. I’ve left several people out so you can imagine I would occasionally run into traffic I didn’t negotiate according to highway standards.

Well, it’s not who you were but who you are that counts and who you are has a lot to say about who you were; regardless of how it may have appeared at the time. All of us need to go a little lighter on ourselves about some of our more unrestrained moments in which the embarrassment following (and often during) our efforts should have been reward enough. In all my life I didn’t do a measurable comparison of evil to what Bush accomplishes in just one day. The huge majority of the time the only person I injured was myself and that is as it should be.

I don’t know what it is that these people possess that makes it possible for them to do what they do and not only leave it un-reflected upon but even laugh about it. That’s the thing with sociopaths; they don’t feel what we do, they have no conscience. They learn to mimic our responses in order to appear human. Well now, that’s clever.

I’d like to think I’ll be beyond it when the Lords of Karma kick Bush and his associates in the ass. I’d like to hope I will have evolved beyond launching my fist into the air and screaming ‘Yes!!!” but I doubt it.

Visible sings: 911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible♫ Bush Family History Lesson ♫
'Bush Family History Lesson' is track no. 5 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album
'911 was an Inside Job'

911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Gee, Whatever Happened to Those Terror Alerts?

Well, I'm just so puzzled. Remember all those terror alerts that were just coming into the news every day before the election? Whatever happened to them? And what about the Gannon thing with the male prostitute in the White House; it's always boys or men when it comes to Republicans. Democrats prefer women even though they often show litttle taste in the selection. Believe me, if I were president I could do better than Moncia Lewinsky and Gennifer Flowers. I can do better than that now.

And why's the media blacking out the reasons that the Italian journalist got shot; she got shot after already being waved through the Green Zone. And what about, and what about and... and... the mind numbs, the eyes blur, the head bows and peripherally you get a good view of the other cattle grazing on the poisoned landscape. Later you can go back to the corral for some crushed bone meal made out of your fellows. You want fries with that?

I am in constant awe of the spectacle of sophistry and eel-shit that this porcine, rapacious administration is got up to. I look at cardboard boy George and clearly, clearly I have only two judgments I can make on him; he's criminally stupid or he's a criminal. And all up and down the block, bright men and women- supposedly bright men and women are lining up to get inside the camera view with Goofy. It's a different kind of Disneyland where Goofy has rabies and Terri Shiavo is the gate greeter. It's proof that no matter how smart you think you are, if you have no moral compass you become whatever your appetite wants.

Rove's been observed attending high level gay orgies at select D.C. hotels. It's only fair since he can't really hang out in his former watering hole in D.C. due to the high visibility. The private life of the powerful, it just doesn't change. I close my eyes and see J. Edgar in his yellow pinafore backing up in seething estrus toward Clyde. Yes it was reported and forgotten. Hey, so what? We got the guns and we got the votes- Who cares if Roy Cohn and Cardinal Spellman used to stock Roy's boat with young boys of a weekend and go on a trouser trout fly fishing safari? Same as it ever was...

-oh yeah Rep. Conyers has the smoking gun in Ohio but you can't see shit in a smoking mirror. You can smell it though. Read all about it here
You'll get to see Congressman King's comment to Pelosi there too; Pelosi the author, not Pelosi the politician.

We know these things and more but we can't do anything about it. Watching the shit hit the fan will be fun though and the shit will hit the fan. Sooner or later the wind is going to hit the mother of all whirling turbines and it's going to be a totally new version of "Get Out Your Handkerchiefs"

I hear where P. Wolfowitz considers the use of the term neo-con as an example of anti-semitism. Somebody sent me an email with a Robert Novak piece yesterday where he passes on this juicy little tidbit. Well, we've gone from any criticism of Israel being anti-semitic to just about anything anybody doesn't like being anti-semitic. That word has got more faces and more appearance of power than anything I've ever come across. Maybe it's the hyphen. Personally I've little interest in the Middle East. It's a thug-land theme park with psychopathic nutjobs to all sides. One thing it's not is any kind of Holy Land, not if you equate holiness with an actual virtue as opposed to robot genuflections gone through for external effect in the land of the whitened sepulcher. God's not impressed.

The ideal solution for this holy land is great big nuclear explosion and I'll tell you why. A nuclear hit on this 'religion as fashion design' region would accomplish more than all the efforts from every corner through every age. It would finally make the protagonists all one. It would create a fused glass landscape that would become uninhabitable and render any further concern over the area mute. It would bring peace in the Middle East. I can't understand why the bush administration hasn't given this some real thought. Well, of course, they don't want peace. The reality of peace anywhere stands in direct opposition to bush's controllers in London. Peace is not an option for profit. You make your money creating conflicts and then raking in the swag from both sides.

Every time I think about the foul, stinking, retch-inducing reality of this gang of killer clowns I am further renewed in my appreciation in the existence of God. God doesn't always work on our timetable and according to our wishes but the wheels of his passage grind exceedingly small. And in respect of that I am convinced of the final destiny of these... these... words fail me.

What made it all possible was the seizure of the media. For the vast numbers of humanity that won't take the trouble to investigate they've got your McNews right here. The Frightwing was very savvy to have gone this way... "but wait," you say, "it's all been done before." Yes it has.

Still, there's got to be more to the puzzle. What happened to the democrats and every other faction of opposition? How come they all slink along on their bellies? It does look like bush is Damien. I have no trouble imaging Barbara Bush being inseminated by a dog and I'd be less surprised if bushligula did in fact have 666 tattooed under his hair. You throw in Bush Sr.'s control of the White House for 12 years and his long time status as one of the world's most powerful drug lords and, well- Yeah it all sounds like comic book stuff or the product of us dis-enfranchised hallucinators. Then again, no way those towers came down the way they say and mounting evidence points to a cabal involving the boys in the back. Let's take it a step further. Could the alien Gray's finally be moving toward their dream of a post-Terminator world? It would explain a lot if it were, in fact, aliens behind the whole sudden shift in reality. That would explain the silence on all sides in the face of possibly the most inept leader since the last days of the Roman Empire.

Well, I don't know what to tell you. If you're happy there then more power to you. When people ask me where I'm from I tell them, "I used to be an American." or I tell them I'm from New Zealand. Each time I went back to visit the vibe was worse. And I'm not really missing anything. In fact, there's a whole lot of the world that is much, much nicer than the United States. I'm not going to make any Man Without a Country comments but I'll tell you this much; I'd rather be in France.

Visible sings: 911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible♫ Vive La France ♫
'Vive La France' is track no. 6 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album '911 was an Inside Job'

911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Well, Hello There!

Rats. I go and start a new blog and don't put anything up and I see people have already been here. Well, I'm jammed right now but that will pass. this blog will feature my more eccentric stream of consciousness offerings. Anything could show up here and probably will. Mostly I will focus on the murderous psychopaths running the American government and their henchmen and women abroad. I'll also be taking my usual dark view on cultural dysfunction and the vast leechfield it creates behind the back wall of the property.

Hopefully you'll tune in and hopefully I'll be here. We've got to do something about the exponentially increasing garbage or we're going to get buried under it. I'll be talking about technical inovations that I'm considering like portable battery packs that store the energy produced by the friction of the rubbing thighs of the vast obese public as they walk from Burger King to their car. Of course, many of these people only go through the drive in and don't walk much at all. But, given the millions in this state I think we could power a lot of small towns and help to make the world more energy efficient. Something doesn't sound right there. Hmmmm.

I'll be talking about the strange synchronicity between the the immeasurable stupidity and avarice of the political leaders and the mirror image of the once human field animals that now populate the landscape. It goes without saying that the hypocrisies of the Schiavo case and the shrill squeaking of dangerous evangelicals running in disordered packs through the carnival landscape of serial killer Disneyworld will also be addressed.

Never before have we had such an abundant crop of clueless, driven nutjobs willing to hold forth on any subject so long as they know nothing about it. Never before has it been such a virtue to lie with total abandon. Never before have such a an avalanche of preposterous fantasies been accepted wholesale as the truth. Believe me, we can get it for you wholesale.

Never before has there been such an enormous population of witless materialists gorging themselves on chemical entres with the nutrition factor and taste of a urinal cake. The degree and speed of the descent into entropy is frightening.

From reality TV to the robot talking heads, from the attention given to pandering liars like Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh and the agenda driven swill of the Drudge's and O'Reilly's it is a sight to behold- or rather turn away from. I would never have imagined that the human race was as stupid and gullible as it has proven to be. On the margins, tsunami's and earthquakes, vicious wars and genocidal activities financed by London bankers are testimony to the outraged reactions of nature. Nature? we left that behind. We screwed her and sold her and then pushed her out of a moving car in the early hours of Sunday morning on to the streets of an urban ghetto.

Tell me, if you're driving somewhere that you kind of think you know you are going but the landscape is becoming more and more bizarre and uncertain; wouldn't you, if you were normal, wonder if you were headed in the right direction? NO, not our stalwarts- "forward into the valley marched the six hundred." or something like that. "Once more into the breech", "Yes Sir, Colonel Custer."

Well, you ain't seen nothing yet. The clowns in the front seat have no intention of looking at the map or listening to the people in the back. They've got a glazed insane look in their eyes and they are fucking well going to do whatever they fucking want.

I could say, watch yourself. I could say, get rid of that cellphone and take a moment to think about who you are and what you are doing. I could ask you if you are that much of a coward that you cannot speak out. I could ask you whither is that heavy flesh laden, poor breathing, non pushup doing, drenched in scents and cosmetics stinking carcass you are riding headed; but what's the point? You won't know till you get there and you damn well aren't going to listen to me. I told you the bridge is out. It's your call when you floor the accelerator and give me the finger out the window as you drive away. I could tell you to take those yellow ribbons and fatuous parades and anthems and swelling patriotic rhetoric and marching boots and SUV's and inane, profanity-laden jackhammer-rape soundtracks and all the petroleum based products of various plastic compositions and stick them where the sun don't shine... but you've already done that and joined them in close-pressed confines of the basement torture chamber you have constructed beneath the floorboards of reality. But I have no sanguine expectation that you will hear it above the rumbling of your stomach or the serpentine exhortations of the cheerleading goblins who are directing you through the gates over which is inscribed, "Abandon all hope ye who enter here."

It's right in front of you and all around you and you don't see it. Subsequently a very large percentage of you are going down with the garbage scow upon which you sail. The choice exists in every moment through which you pass. The idea that the 'truth', 'sanity' and 'action' lies in the midst of the largest crowds is, uh... doesn't. Wait until the stage catches on fire and you find the exits are chained. Wait until you see the behavior of your moments previous civilized companions. Watch the formica veneer melt to expose the raging beast within.

I'm not sure what you can do to halt the inevitable. It seems the movie needs to demostrate the timeless truths of falling by the wayside. But individually you can do something for yourself and those you love. Regardless of the surrounding aspect of unreality, reality does exist and unreality is no challenge to it except in your mind. Change your mind while you can still save yours ass. Change your mind and your perspective and your world will accomodate. Nature exists only to mirror and respond to you. Depending on what you think and do, so depends her response. She's sweeter and more accomodating than you can presently imagine but, oh my friend, you don't want to see here when she's pissed off. And she is getting very pissed off. Sometimes we think that when we can bully something, when we can use it and piss on it and pass it around that this is an indication of powerlessness. You get to think that just because you always got away with it that you always will. Don't mistake Love for weakness. A mother loves her children and tolerates a great deal because she knows they are children... but the spanking that will come, finally, after prolonged abuse has no reference point to what you may remember from your own childhood. It's a whole other thing.

Well now, I got caught up and just went flying off. Now I do have to get back to work. I'm glad we had this opportunity to chat. Carry on.

Visible and The Critical List: The Pope of Rock and Roll by Visible and The Critical List♫ Bottoms Up ♫
'Bottoms Up' is track no. 5 of 7 on Visible and The Critical List's 1987 album
'The Pope of Rock and Roll'

The Pope of Rock and Roll by Visible and The Critical List