Dog Poet Transmitting.......
'May your noses always be cold and wet'.
Sometimes I wish I were one of my dogs. They have it good. Nothing is required of them and they are as happy as dogs can be, given that they are all damaged subjects because they were picked up from the streets or out of pounds and you can see that now and again. It’s not something that goes away soon. It lingers in the back of their memories of events and certain things will trigger a return to the awful paranoia of being alone on the streets at the mercy of strangers, without a master to love and protect because that is all they want. In Italy, people will bring a dog down on their vacation, for guard duty, or to play with their children and when summer is over they will just put it out of the car on their way back to wherever they live their meaningless, thoughtless lives. Dogs and all other living creatures feel things. They have memories and they live with what they are where they are as best they can. Every single thing we do is recorded, make no mistake about that. If no one else sees, we see and we convict ourselves. That’s how the cosmos works.
I’m damaged, just like my dogs. I’ve been down so many miles of bad highway that I can’t remember the miles. To quote my favorite artist, Lord Buckley, “I didn’t get all these miles on my face in one lifetime”. Neither did I.
Here's a real hero.
People take strong objection to some of the things I say and they are always anonymous. That’s a freedom that the internet has given us and maybe that’s a good thing because so many of us are pissed off and powerless. So we like to trot out our swords, under a cloak of invisibility in order to get it off of our chests. That doesn’t make us any kind of hero because hiding from the reaction to what we say and do brands us as cowards. Every single thing we do is recorded, make no mistake about that.
The events of my life, what parts I have shared here, would seem fantastic and possibly the product of a fevered imagination but unfortunately for the critics and skeptics, there were witnesses nearly all of the time. I’ve danced with powerful demons in the desert and spoken with emissaries of the one and only. I’ve been in prisons where your ass was worth the price of whatever trouble someone wanted to take to get it and I walked through it unscathed. One prison I was in was 90% black. You do the math. I got locked up each and every time because I ran my mouth about the governments and religions and every time they insinuated someone into my circle, so that they could orchestrate the necessary scenario, in order to make me fall under the hooves of their corrupt system. This is all a matter of public record and in the last case I proved it in the courtroom and walked out free. That had never been done there before and hasn’t since. Following that event, every case that came up there tried a version of my defense, some of them had a lot of money but it did no good.
There was a Buddhist Rimpoche. I can’t remember his name now. This was back in the 70’s. He used to do some crazy things. One time he walked into a biker bar and went to shoot pool. He was loud and obnoxious. He tore the felt with his cue stick. He was as provocative as he could be and no one did anything. The people with him were freaking but that’s just fear. I used to go into bars like that, though I never tore the felt. I take pool seriously. My friends would often quickly leave and wait outside because it could get very intense. I used to go into the parks in Hawaii and ask some of the locals to spar with me. I took a few hits here and there but after awhile I was left alone and treated with respect.
Why am I telling you this? For one thing, I didn’t leave the US because I was afraid of anyone or anything. I left because I was no longer in a position to do any good and I would be locked up now if I hadn’t. I’m telling you this because the amount of courage required doing something should be measured against one’s good sense in terms of practicality. I’m also mentioning these things because if I hadn’t been willing to toss it into the wind at every moment it wouldn’t have worked out like it did.
I lost everything I had over and over. I walked away sometimes when success on temporal terms was right there. Sometimes it was taken from me. Sometimes a friend fell ill and I closed down whatever I was doing to be there. I never had a life in the way other people imagine that to be. It’s only in the last ten years that I have had any measure of stability and peace and I earned it. My name is Les Visible and my location is no secret but good luck actually finding me or even setting out looking if you’re not supposed to.
It should be obvious that I do not wish harm to the people of the United States or any other Crown Colony. I do wish them awakening and whatever it takes to effect that I am 100% behind. If they have to be knocked to their knees and rocked with calamity, so be it, if they will only wake up. I have any number of limp wristed, spiritual dilettantes that come around telling me that I should just love all and express compassion and think beautiful thoughts and I could lead you all down the garden path like any number of other clowns dressed up in white and charging 50 bucks at the door for useless information that will only get you killed further down the road.
You know what I see? I see dead people, like the boy in The Sixth Sense. That’s what I see. I look at people and I see them young and old and on their way out. The body is a coffin but it doesn’t have to be and that’s what those of little courage and lacking the necessary sense of drive and sacrifice do not see. Be you in a miserable hovel or a palace grand, death is coming to claim you because in your life you have practiced the rites of death instead of the rites of life. You read the books of dead people and figure that the mystery that you aren’t getting is some kind of a lack of insight on your part. You admire heroes with feet of clay. You accept totally bogus history, fabricated by your actual masters. Those seeking six million are going to get their six million in spades. You put the blame everywhere but on the ones responsible because you don’t want to offend anyone and never realize they set it up that way to begin with. You kill each other in your frustration and rage and never tumble to the thought that if you really have to kill someone you ought to make it count.
Many times here, I have counseled you to step away from the machine. It cannot function without the oil of your blood in the gears. You are walking on the tracks of your tears. All of that is about to change and whether you step up to the plate or prefer to jack yourself off in the batter’s box is inconsequential. It’s going to happen and it is happening now. You’ve only seen the prelude to an irresistible state of change. It’s all for your own good. I’ve got nothing against western culture, or eastern culture or any culture unless that culture is a culture of death.
Look at your leaders. Can anyone imagine a greater collection of psychopathic hypocrites and cowards? They did it for money and position on their way to the grave and worse. I’m a very, very lucky guy because I gave it all and I will never stop doing so. The one thing the cosmos appreciates is usefulness. To be useful is the signal condition in which blessings descend and I know what I am talking about here. You could change your life in a heartbeat today if you would just be useful. There’s a bumper sticker that I love which says, “Commit random acts of kindness”.
I’ve had flying saucers land in front of me. I’ve seen direct presentations of the Hindu gods and Buddha’s appear. I’ve walked into places of darkness and light that defy description and it was only made possible because I had nothing left to lose. Think about that the next time you go shopping without actually having a reason. Fonzie used to be able to hit the jukebox and make it play. I remember Ritchie asking him about how he could get away with things that he could not. How come the bad guys would back off? Fonzie said, “There had to have been a time when you did do it”.
How dark does it have to get before you do the right thing? How fucked up does your situations have to be before you rise to the call and don’t tell me you can’t hear it. You are very, very lucky too. You have the opportunity to change your life and all you have to do is step away from the machine. The machine cannot move unless you power it. CEO’s and major dickheads of every description can manipulate and cogitate and perambulate all over the map but they can’t storm the castle or burn the town unless you are carrying the torches. They cannot kill except with your hands.
Show them your contempt. Show then that you will not work on Maggie’s Farm no more. Show them that you will not be herded or led. Show them the door. They will collapse upon themselves as soon as your faith in them is withdrawn. You are what is keeping the matrix alive. The moment you go away, they start to burn and it is only the tenuous link of your belief in them that keeps them from the fire. Step away from the machine.
Radio show tonight.
No song today, just hum a few bars of whatever you like. Oh, what the heck, my favorite artist of all time, play it loud. And, of course, if I am feeling down, I listen to this.
14 April 2014
Visible is moving home April 15th 2014.
At the same time, all his blogs - including this one, will be relocating, too; this means that soon this page will disappear - as will all other pages on Vis' sites. The move (the blogs' move that is, not lord Visible's) is expected to take somewhere between 3 and 8 Earth days so should complete some time between 18 and 25 April 2014.
The blogs will remain accessible however, on their old blogspot.com URLS, and here is where you are going to find them - so please bookmark the following links!
Reflections in a Petri Dish
Please also be aware that although all the existing blogs' content will remain accessible, many image links and other bits and pieces may look a bit tatty for the duration of the move (not that anyone visits Vis blogs for pretty pictures anyway, but it's just polite to let you know)
Thank you for bearing with us during the move!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Dog Poet Transmitting.......
Beamed from the Saucer Pod By Visible at 13:18