Thursday, February 23, 2012

In the Times of the First Church of Blind Acquisition.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Disclaimer; it appears that the video with the judge is a clever cut and paste and not part of the judge's program, which did seem a tad unreal to me but I'm too damn hopeful for my own good. It does seem highly improbable that Fox would ever let something like that pass out over their 100% Zio-Ogre controlled networks. So please be informed. I don't feel like reshuffling the whole post. I just don't have the time today anyway, so let this stand as clarification...

This came to me as a Facebook message some days ago. I thought the reader might be interested in speculating on its importance.

World Bank CEO Zoellick resigns
Anz Bank CFO Australia resigns
Nicaragua Central Bank Pres Rosales resigns
Credit Suisse Chief Joseph Tan resigns
GERMAN PRESIDENT Christian Ruff resigns
Royal Bank of Scotland Australian CEO Stephen Williams resigns
Kuwait Central Bank CEO resigns
Slovenia TWO largest Banks CEOs (2) resign
Bank of India CEO Chaturvedi resigns
Tamilnad Mercantile Bank CEO resigns

Arrests in Olympus Scandal Point to Widening Inquiry Into a Cover-Up
Bank feud: Chairman Giles quits VNB with other directors
Arrests made in Italy after discovery of $6 trillion in fake U.S. bonds
Four Priests Charged In Vatican Banking Scandal
Berlusconi could get five years

There are any number of reasons why an attack on Iran might come sooner than later. There is also the compelling evidence of it not having happened so far. Here is what the US and Israel can expect if and when it does happen. I don't want to see violence visited on anyone but... to be honest, these results look good for the rest of the world. If such a thing should happen and good sense among those in a position to stop it, does not prevail then, let us hope the results are at least this dramatic. The world has suffered at the hands of Israel and her submissive bottoms, the US, England and the rest, for far too long. Not only is much of the world suffering, because of the avaricious behavior of Israel's bankers internationally, but the endless violence of this rogue nation, has been a plague for far too many nations and peoples. They are the authors of nearly every war in recent times. The death and destruction is off the charts.

Now we've got the usual anthrax letters coming from the usual sources; one government agency or another.

Here's more on possibilities for Rogue Nation Central. Here's another tactic that is a possibility, or something like it. Here's another look at what's potential in this insane adventure.

I couldn't figure out why 'the judge' got kicked off of Fox; then again, I couldn't figure out what he was doing on there in the first place. Judge Napolitano actually ran a long video presentation of that link I like to post more than any other, “All the proof in the world that Israel did 911”. I couldn't believe it. You see the names and faces of the weasels and rats rolling down the screen. You see the headline stating that Barack and Netanyahoo were the architects of 911! The whole website scrolled down the screen, while some fellow talked about it. That is absolutely amazing!!! Kudos to the judge!!! Heah come de judge and dere go de judge! Some great and powerful force has gone loose in the world and they can't seem to stop it. It shows up on their main disinfo, mass media news site!

Oh yeah. Afghanistan is erupting over the great American military's, Koran cookout. Then there are the usual ironies. The sheer weight of what's in operation at the moment is truly amazing; check your favorite newsgathering sites. And now the 'I won't pay movement' is sweeping Europe. We live in amazing times.

I have no idea where this is going. I don't know what to think. There's so much energy running through the atmosphere. There were times lately when I didn't know if I would be able to process the force of its effect on me much longer. All of a sudden it's manageable but it is strong. Oh my, it is strong. People must be bouncing off the walls all over the place. Those who have no understanding of what is taking place or how to assimilate it are probably going to go nuts. Certainly those who are already mad, in high places, are going to lose it. They have no defense against it, as their horned master abandons them. It's going to be the battle of Dagorlad, on the plains of Mordor redux. They'll be losing their minds in the desolation of Morannon; asking the Earth to swallow and cover them, seeking out stones to pull over them; their ears, assailed by the songs of the high elves, ripping like astral chainsaws into the darkness of their minds. Nothing is more terrible for the agents of darkness than celestial light.

We are surfing the cosmic hyperbole in the transition of the age. Twin realities, both terrible and beautiful, will war for prominence in the human mind. The human mind will no longer be human but more than human, or transited into the full consciousness of a savage beast. There is no beast more terrible that that which arrives, when those among us have abandoned their human consciousness, for that lower realm of dark passion that swallows awareness, into a negatively polarized K-hole. 'Abandon hope all ye who enter here'.

Across lifetimes, the degenerate among us have had free rein with their loathsome cruelties; their auto-da-fe's, their gulags and secret prisons, their financial, religious and military oppressions of those who value survival over freedom and accomplish neither. Their time is ending. It won't be pretty and it's world wide. The saving grace for any and all, is to abandon their self-imposed enslavement to materialism; step away from the malls, department stores and fast food restaurants. Step away from your television. Step away, step away, step away. Do it today! When the heat comes down on the centers of materialism, it's going to burn the towers of the First Church of Blind Acquisition.

It's a given that, 'they know not what they do'. You can see people racing into burning structures to rescue toaster ovens; the same way they trample each other for Big Gulp TV's and discounted laptops. They're angry and on fire with the insane need to have something, anything that will take their minds off the emptiness within. The emptiness is howling with the disembodied voices of their ancestors. The unseen is pressing on the seen. Lightning dances between the horns of the cattle, as the thunder crashes against the Earth and the herd stampedes; to where? There is no there, there. Chickens dance on the griddle. Millions of chickens huddle with no space to move; waiting for the KFC lorries to arrive. Terrible hormones dance in the bloodstreams of our four legged fellows and make their way into the human bloodstream. The horrible fears of the newly dead and devoured, courses along the red river toward an unknown end.

In the midst of this, the portals open into parallel dimensions. Immense highways to anywhere and everywhere, stretch away and can only be seen by the eyes of those destined to travel on them. It's a big deal. It's been 26,000 years in the making. It's a long time coming and a short time going and it's on the doorstep, waiting for the trumpets to sound.

Here in the waning moments of the year of transition, billions await whatever particular destiny, applies to the places where they wait. What shape will it take? I couldn't say, some will remain and some will be swept away. A thousand times the normal radiation, vibrates 400 miles from Japan. Iran bristles in a state of suspension. Israel smoulders with hatred and rage against all other races and creeds. Russia and China, look West, Southwest and East. Pakistan has had it with the drones. Hezbollah and Hamas prepare for the worst. Egypt and Libya are in turmoil. It's a recipe for madness and it will likely get worse. The gates of the moon are opening and here comes the hearse; pulled by eight black stallions with fire in their nostrils and fire in their eyes, coming for the children of the father of lies. And the writer is getting carried away with outrageous prophecy and psychedelic syntax, from the brown acid land. We better rein him in before he gets out of hand (grin); not to say some part and portion of this is not sure to be true but we don't how and we don't know when and neither do you.

It's not all bad news but the airwaves of the good, are confined to few minds in a small neighborhood that's scattered far and wide. We're surrounded by trepanned and unconscious extras; a cast of thousands, moving en masse but the numbers of awakening souls are growing by the day. There are more and more coming. The aethers are humming. The coconut telegraph is burning up the wires. The drums in the jungle and the word on the street has got the same message, as the volumes increase and increase, till everyone can hear it whether they like it or not. Their own worst networks now carry the news. It just can't be hidden anymore and the ones who've been doing all the horrible shit, are soon to be naked and exposed for it. It's inevitable and it's happening in real time now. The hour is upon us. Man! What can I say? What the Judge went and did, just blew me away.

Alright, my friends, be ye ready or not, whatever it is, it's coming. We can only hope and trust, in the benevolence we have yet to see. It's been grim for too long. It's been dark as a tomb, while the bad cats were dancing and stinking up the room. Maybe it all works out better than we expect. I can't shake the feeling, I'm an optimist. Good fortune to the good hearts and the rest to the rest.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: The Sacred and The Profane by Les Visible♫ Lucky Day ♫
'Lucky Day' is track no. 4 of 13 on Visible's 2007 album 'The Sacred and The Profane'

The Sacred and The Profane by Les Visible

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Succubi Hallucinations in Cellblock 99.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be in the wind in the moments when the world changes.

What am I gonna do? What am I gonna say? Must be something in there that hasn't made it's way out yet into this potpourri of weird shit stepping on the heels of the weird shit in front of it. I'm going to say a little about the astrological situation. I am not your usual astrologer. I am an esoteric astrologer so, when people are handing out their pronouncements about Neptune in Pisces, I get a different picture and if you will bear with me for a moment I will give you my take. We are leaving the Piscean age. We are passing out of the transiting period into the early days of what's going to stick around once the rest of it is gone. It is only fitting that at this point, the illusion machine and the boundary remover should enter its home base for a final house clearing. As is ever the case, things happen two different ways. When you are wrong they go wronger and when you are right they go better. Neptune's got a lot to do with drugs, hallucinations and WTF!

Most astrologers try to put all of this into the context of a personal relationship to what's operative. I try to see it as it hits the whole nine yards. Since I don't have much personal left, the whole nine yards tends to apply more to the way it hits me. Keep in mind that Neptune is the sea god and the sea is the great subconscious. Keep in mind that things which appear in the world have a tendency to come out of nowhere and suddenly be everywhere. Well, that's the subconscious for you. It percolates like the hot lava at Kilauea, sooner or later, coffee is ready. That's why the Hindus have that red dot in their forehead.

What we are about to see is the fate of illusions when they come up against the inexorable force of the cosmos. Some of it is going to be tragic and some of it is going to be funny but mostly it is going to be a breath of fresh air. That's going to be exhilarating and scary at the same time, like someone switched your oxygen feed with a nitrous oxide canister. I'd say that Neptune is a lot like nitrous oxide. Welcome to Cartoonville.

The negativists among us, and there are many, seem to believe we are all screwed. They are missing an important part of the equation. Those of you with real mathematical skills know that it all makes sense and when you get to algebra, onward to trig and then into pure theory, you can shoot around corners, even when you can't see what's there and you can make suspension bridges that are pretty much like modern bras and you can probably figure out why things like this obsessed Howard Hughes so much (grin). Math is nothing more than what we've been up to in apportioning and parceling the female body. After all, that's Mother Nature, or it used to be. Now we got boys in bikinis insisting that they can be here as a stand-in, since she's toothless in the alley and being gnawed on by rats. This isn't going to last long but you have really missed the point if you've missed the reality of that and no doubt I will hear about it for having said this and it's really not a criticism but an observation and acknowledgment of the fine job that's been done on us by those who never liked her to begin with and who punched her teeth out and shot her up with Fentanyl in the first place. Well, she has her teeth back and the Heparin Lock is gone from the back of her hand so watch out.

When you twist Mother Nature too far out of shape, you get Kali. This is no indictment of people's desire to perform the rituals in their own way. As I have said, many times, this is a phase. It's the same thing that happens when you get born black, yellow, white or brown for the purpose of demonstration. It's the same thing that happens when you wind up speaking a new language every time you show up. The point of the affair is to smooth your edges and also to wake you up to the fact that we are all one body. You abuse the feminine principle at your peril because there is no way back into this world except through a woman and she can be Hell on wheels when she has to be.

At the present moment, every major religion, except two- and one of those comes out of the other; at the present moment, every major religion sees the feminine as something to dominate and abuse. This is why a lot of men meet only bitches and are cynical and pissed off because she isn't doing what she used to do, which is just lay there and take it. You could have had a willing and eager partner in the exercise but you had to be on top. Well, you're not on top. It turns around. It always does and those who get pissed off about there being nothing but bitches, should have caught a clue when they were turning them into bitches in the first place. Some of us don't meet bitches cause they don't have our house number stamped in their forehead and when we do meet a gargoyle or two, we tip our hat and ease on down the road with black Dorothy and her pit-bull Toto, who keeps screaming about “Hold the Line”. The way it goes with lines though is that they get snorted up, sooner rather than later, if you're spending too much time in the john getting your hair right.

You mess with Mother nature at your peril. You mess with her representatives at your peril. You turn her into ho's and bitches and you will get something you never imagined in your darkest nightmare. Your bowels will turn to water and you'll be in Cellblock 99 where they keep the freaks. Just because you're on Wall Street today doesn't mean you won't be there tomorrow, metaphorically and karmically speaking. You'd be surprised at how Ladders and Chutes plays out in real life. You can go from oil lord to galley slave in seemingly no time at all. Some people have terrible luck. They're just standing there when the death goes down and the next thing you know they're being fitted up for a felony murder jacket as an accessory, on both sides of the entendre. There's all kinds of bad shit that can happen to you. You could be born as Richard Dawkins or get half lucky and be born Daryl Dawkins. Anything can happen.

See, lifetimes are like suits of clothes. You can be suited up in anything for the purposes of demonstration. You can be standing on the gallows and screaming that you are an innocent man but you're not, are you? It's just more of that math that shoots around corners. Let's take lil' Georgie Porgie Bush. He's got hundreds of lifetimes coming that you don't even want me to talk about. Those people at Monsanto? They will probably be born with two heads and no legs about ten thousand times and get kept alive just in case they want to do a sequel to “Freaks”. This is karma in your face. This is the karma no one wants to hear about and everyone wrings their hands about and cries out, “Lordy, Lordy, it ain't fair and... there is no injustice anywhere.

I've had a hard life up until not so long ago. I couldn't make head or tails of it. I come to find that God fancies himself a meat tenderizer. Sometimes karma can fool you. Anyone who thinks they can make sense out of it beyond a certain point of conjectured potential is one more fool with a clipboard building Mother Nature a better bra. You don't have to go too far past America to understand what's so fascinating about breasts. America is all about cleavage without the nipples. Over here in Europe you see the whole boat in most parks on a given sunny day. Nudity is a big deal in the US and so is the kind of force used to herd the residents. Muslim countries have a similar constraint and young boys come into the picture the same way they do in The Catholic Church. Both of these come out of the Abrahamic tradition, which is the same motive force pushing the envelope for the satisfaction of beer soaked layabouts addicted to the products from the places they shoot the films in ranch houses in Studio City and West Hollywood. But no one gets connection? No one gets the connection? I'm pretty clear about why I like the South Seas, how about you?

Keep in mind that all of the bullets, other weapons and indifferent violence comes out of this same thing. Yeah, that's right. Mess with the sex force and you will see how fucked up it can get. It's all about controlling the sex force in all the wrong ways and that's how you get impotent 'freaks' with rubber truncheons wailing on their fellows and don't tell me tasers aren't sexual.

It's all about sex and messing with Mother Nature; “don't stand so close to me”. Keep it up and see what happens. Now, it's perfectly fine for a sadhu to walk off into the forest and spend his time fighting off succubi hallucinations, till the real thing comes along. It's another thing to set moral standards for yourself and your offspring, while the people running your lives sell you all the bad shit and... and... you don't have a clue do you? You don't see it. You've been paying kosher tax on your libido since you got here and you haven't been free for more than 15 minutes or an hour or two since and you got all those psychologists and doctors and philosophers and deep thinkers 'splaining how what it is is what it is. Well, take it from me, that ain't what it is and never was.

Sooner or later you're going to catch on, probably when “The Stand” becomes your timeline reality and Randall Flag and Trashcan Man does their thing. That's the funny thing about the Apocalypse; it's never convenient. Just when you thought you could sink down into the pleather with one more Bud Tallboy; you would have two but you need one for your dick... just when you thought it was okay to slurp, swallow and pork anything that was standing still and in your reach, that damned old Mr. Apocalypse is knocking on your door with his solid silver wolf's head walking cane and you know you got to get the door. You don't know why or who but something about this knock has authority to it and it's not the same authority as the corporate police who protect all the drug shipments and get wild assed on the entrepreneurs who don't have permission to operate here cause the usual fuckheads own the street.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: Almost A Capella by Les Visible♫ I Got a Feeling ♫
'I Got a Feeling' is track no. 4 of 12 on Visible's 2007 album 'Almost A Capella'

Almost A Capella by Les Visible

There will be a radio show tonight, and, stop picking your nose, I'm watching.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Easter Bunny, Jesus Jerky on a Gone Dead American Train

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Few things sum up American culture and the decline of the west as well as something like this. America isn't really a country. Most people aren't aware of that. It's a time sensitive experiment, having a material experience. There is no real tradition. Everybody came from everywhere else and brought their traditions with them. Of course, there was a tradition already in place, which needed to be destroyed, so that something crass, creepy and crepuscular, could eventually morph into the Twilight series of sexy, sanitized vampires, with a really high fuckability index, in a public humping offer on Dow Jones. Of course, they're not the vampires that sucked the life, love and liberty out of this failed experiment, they only play them on TV. The real vampires slink through the marketplace, with their bendable flavor straws in hand, looking for the necks of opportunity, in a no neck paradise of stunted proles and Easter Bunny, Jesus Jerky for communion wafers.

We're here in the land of the free, on bended knee, in the First Church of the Dual Nationals, where routine mass murder is 100% kosher. Well tan my noahide, pilgrim. It's looks like you are the Thanksgiving turkey.

I can feel the bottled outrage over my telepathic landlines, picking my way through the politically correct landmines, in search of one temporary piece of sane and sober Earth to stand on. Tiny nano-tech gerbils are having a rave in my colon, which leads to that uneasy, wish to be pleasing feeling that Richard Gere probably gets when he's standing in front of the Daily Lama and trying to figure out the punch line to one hand clapping. Yes, I can feel the outrage of all the patriotic, Tweedle Dees and Tweedle Dums, sucking on their thumbs and spanking their monkeys to a red, white and blue, nightmare vagina, violated by mutants with farm implements, that makes Last Exit to Brooklyn read like a child’s bedtime story by comparison. What right do I have to trash this great nation under Zog? Well, I have no right. Actually, lets say I have no rights, left. Bush and Obama have taken care of that; political Siamese twins in a hot oil, mud wrestling match; I can't believe it's not mud! They're wrestling in the flatulent winds of their diseased imaginations. They have no shame and they have no sorrow and karmically speaking they have no tomorrow. They are the conductor and engineer on a gone dead train and Hell follows after. The definition of stupid is anyone who still thinks Obama has anything in common with anything he said, during his hope and change redundancy moments, prior to all the new wars and relentless economic violence he's unleashed on the public at the behest of his Wall Street masters.

Lloyd Blankfein is now the “national corporate spokesman for same-sex marriage”. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then his face is a looping stream of endless invective; a phrenological masterpiece of ad hominem, directed at everyone and everything. He's been granted complete latitude. Actually, the literal definition of Blankfein's idea of gay marriage is, “Go fuck yourself” and I think you're supposed to do it in front of a mirror if you are so inclined and I believe I can confidently declare that an unfortunate number of you are ready, willing and able, I'm going to suggest you blow up that photo of Blankswine, as a romantic enhancement for your private interludes. Think of it as a kind of creative visualization of a literal truth because Blankswine is already doing it to you. According to some forms of math, one might compute that you've got at least a threesome going on already.

There is no country called America, or the United States. There is no such place. There are no laws. There is no constitution and no bill of rights. There is only prostitution and a bill of goods. The organ harvesters own the asylum and the next stage is where you begin to eat each other for the amusement of the ones who led you to this Meek's Cutoff; this Donner's Pass. You followed the loss leader and now you've got bar codes on your ass. You're surrounded by scanners and scumbags. Welcome to your dumpster diving future. Welcome to the time of the tattooed gangs, with chapters in every city. They're just waiting for their moment to storm the gated communities and bazooka the banks. ♫Send in the tanks, don't bother, they're here♫

Oh, am I being negative? Have I missed the whole point of this sea to shining senility diorama? Surely I am a heretic and damned for all time, singing like a canary in a goldmine. I should get a job, probably a hand job would do. Why don't I take a pass and just buy one for you? It's a handjob, blowjob, snowjob world. No job too big or too small and despite the fact that Blankswine has to hire a circus midget or a nine year old boy from Isfahan to do the honors, I'm not going to say that size matters when you're looking for motive to become what he is. Let's just say there's a connection.

You could, I suppose, put the entire country in an orgone box built by Geppetto, cause someone has to sit on Pinocchio's nose and all we need is a little help from Escher and the whole country could groove at the same time. There are all kinds of ways and means, that even now, could turn this figment of a bankrupt imagination, into the country it never was. Were the dead and disorderly to suddenly rise in spirit from their graves and inhabit all of the empty minds, presently wandering like Thorazine queens up and down the corridors of the world's biggest open air mental institution; when they're not just standing around like foreclosed and abandoned houses, then maybe, just maybe, a humming, insect resonance of serendipitous awareness might fortuitously sweep through the collective consciousness and all over the world, these temporary zombies could march on the Central Banks and deliver some what for, right now. I'm dreaming, I know but... ah, a conflagration devoutly to be wished.

Or... suddenly it might occur to enough of 'them' to just step away from the consumer machines and whatever desks and workbenches they're stationed at and just wait, just wait until the whole nasty apparatus comes to a silent halt. Or then again, possibly, all those deluded soldiers, tumescent with guns, could just lay down those guns and walk away and wait. The entire nation needs to turn into a flash mob but that's as likely as people ceasing to eat at The Heart Attack Grill, just cause someone got a little gas. That's all it was, there in the most foreclosed and empty abandoned lot in the entire country and deservedly so. Or, you could just shit in one hand and wish in the other. Or, magically, some electro-magnetic wave of awakening could sweep across the land, leaving no mind unchanged and the people could gather at their polling places and shout out their votes on the way into the booth and shout out their votes, after leaving the booth and wait around, with everyone waiting around, until the voter fraud army has to hightail it into the high, wide and lonesome, where the rattlesnake politicians and Gila Monster bankers would then be having their potluck, rubber chicken dinners for the foreseeable future.

Yeah, there could be all kinds of 'or's, if not for the 'ifs', 'ands' and 'buts'. Coulda, woulda and shoulda also play their parts in this horrific and depraved circle jerk. In a sane and reasonable world, the Blankswines of this world would no longer be in this world, 'or' marooned on a nuclear atoll somewhere that nobody goes. In a sane and reasonable world, none of the things that are happening would be happening and America might even be a country there, instead of a failed laboratory experiment, sitting in the back of Jeffrey Dalmer's icebox in a covered dish, waiting for Dalmer to get the late night munchies after smoking a PCP laden joint made out of lint and human hair. America is a serial killer's wet dream. It's a star spangled torture chamber, where the sane and sensible are hunted for sport.

It's been my pleasure to ring your bell, run off down the sidewalk and leave you with this flaming paper bag, outside your doorstep this afternoon. It is my fond hope that you will stomp on it to put it out and then enjoy the fruits of your efforts at your leisure. I didn't need to write this. I could have just gone down to the Heart Attack Grill and hooked into the pacemaker wireless, for some internet surfing, while I waited for my order to arrive but Las Vegas is a long way from here; though not far enough to suit me.

As the sun sinks into the Fukushima charged waters of the once blue Pacific, we bid you adieu from those lands that sent the first hungry conquistadors and sexually iced up religious nuts to populate the formerly beautiful with the presently ugly. As the ship of state also sinks and the passengers drown in their gins and tonics, let us offer a closing prayer that nothing like this ever happens again but... that would be wishful thinking, wouldn't it?

End Transmission.......

Patrick Willis narrates:

Monday, February 13, 2012

The Currency of Lies on the Information Highway

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be hoses for the crack cocaine of ineffable love.

They are banging the drums for a Syrian genocide. Whoever it is that CONTROLS THE PRESS is largely behind this. Well, you wouldn't even know about it otherwise, would you? When certain elements want to call attention to their version of things (scrolling down to the graph should suffice), they use the information highway. They back those big lorries up to the loading docks and news that is tailored for the East Coast, heads in that direction and news intended for anywhere else, according to the subjective qualities of the residents, is shipped in whatever direction. What they do is very important to them because their profit and continuance depends on it. They have gone to a lot of trouble to form a general mindset which automatically vindicates them, regardless of what horrors they can and do get up to.

There are basically three kinds of people on the planet, in terms of those who can be affected by mind control. There are those who believe whatever they are told and there are those who question what they are told. Then there are those who pay little or no attention, whatever their reasons may be. The reptile overlords do not have to be concerned about everyone believing what they tell them. They only need be concerned about a desired amount being influenced, in order to carry out the policies they wish to see implemented. These days, not even that is important because they just say and do whatever they want to do and then they explain it to the coalition of the willingly duped.

Life takes work. Some work at it and some do not. Some consume as an avocation and some only eat to live, rather than living to eat. This is a critical line of demarcation. If you are in the first group you can be easily led in 'any' direction that you believe your satisfaction lies in. If you are in the second group, you know to some degree, that these people do not have your best interests in mind. Since their chief interest is self interest, which they demonstrate daily, it stands to reason that your interests don't come into the picture, except as lures and incremental rewards for being a good doggie.

Let us take a metaphysical glance at this reptile, serpent, snake thing. The serpent is a symbol for the radiant energy of life and it feeds on itself. It's always there, whether it be kinetic or potential. This is the force that simultaneously results, all over the planet, in either bondage or liberation. Those who have this force awakened in them, sooner or later come to a crossroads where a choice must be made as to how one will apply this force. Depending on the quality of the luminosity of the age, the percentages move in one direction or the other. Since this is THE PRIMARY FORCE in existence; and physicists will tell you the same thing, it has many avenues of expression open to it. The basic argument that goes on and on in two different mindsets is whether this force is conscious or not. That is the sole determinant of whether one has a spiritual bent or is a materialist. You don't have to be an exponent of the common definition of materialist to be a materialist. All that is required is that you do not believe this force is conscious.

Okay, this force has two main applications. Let's call them self interest and liberation. In the one case it will stop at a certain floor of the apartment building and it will operate there. Some practitioners can move between several floors. Certain floors are cut off to them because of the nature of their intent. No floors are cut off for the other practitioners, nor do they behave in similar fashion.

The people oppressing everyone else, are using this force in a particular manner and they have a magical tradition that is employed in the exercise of their activities. They well understand the necessity of the control of the currency. This grants control of everything else upon which the transfer of currency depends. If you control the currency and the information highway, you control the world, or you think you do. Once again it comes back to whether you think a particular force is conscious or not. Nothing I am saying here is in dispute with mainstream physicists.

If this force is conscious then it is conscious in everything, latently or kinetically; awakened or unawakened, conscious or unconscious. If that is the case, no destiny, or the final result of any ambition is ever in doubt. This is why I say that life is for the purpose of demonstration. You are observing the logical and inevitable outcome of self interest run riot. You are watching the outworking of the destiny of disinterest and every kind of interest. You are watching the destiny of nations and leaders, outworking like a mathematical formula.

When a new age comes into being, new powers attend it in the collective consciousness, for the purpose of demonstration. Those new powers are starting to manifest in a small portion of the population at this time. To what degree it will finally come, in the short term, is unknown because the ball is still in play and probability or game theory is operative for those who get a kick out of that sort of thing. There are a lot of different ways to play God but, one thing for sure, people really like to do it, no matter how badly they perform. They believe that results dictate whether something is elegant and beautiful. I call that art for fuck's sake. In the long term, the majority of humanity will possess these powers as a natural accessory. Those who have hot-housed their growth, already possess these powers to one degree or another.

We get some degree of nihilists, depressives, apathetic chipmunks, doomsday junkies and the various and assorted from the Whitman's Sampler collection, of negativists, who lack some formula or another to give meaning to what they see and which might provide a means for interpretation. They will limp along and spread bad vibrations, until one day they trip over it, or it lands on their head with enough impact to penetrate into the important part of their being. Everyone is wearing different colored sunglasses but they are all operating under the radiance of the same sun.

I could be way off base about how things are going to turn out. I am not predicting sunshine and trade winds for the planet entire. It could get very mean and ugly in certain places and my observation of the mental and emotional makeup of the inhabitants, tends to indicate that it will get like that because nothing else, of a gentler persuasion, is persuasive. If you keep on marching past all of the signs that say, “The Bridge is out” you will definitely walk right off one kind of cliff or another. When people persist in going the wrong way they will absolutely come to a bad end. That begs the question, which is the right way and which is the wrong way? Obviously, there are a whole lot of wrong ways and it's likely there are much fewer right ways. Don't ask me to explain why there isn't an even balance here. Just imagine you are on the highway and that you can go off the road at any point, via exits, rest stops, the side of the road or whatever countryside lies beyond.

I hear all kinds of theories every day. People send me videos and articles. Most of the time I can't get around to them. I have an inner mechanism that weighs things. If the weight is off in relation to what is on the other scale, what I am measuring it against, then it's off, until I learn differently, or come to understand that some higher law applies to my former system of measurement. I say 'former' because I am in a constant state of adjustment and if you are not; you are not growing, you are not evolving, you are stuck.

I take my philosophy for existence from the sun. it just shines, period. Of course, I don't achieve that with any regular consistency at this time but it is a fine ambition. One should note that shining does not always result in positive reactions because it can often shine a light on dark places that resent exposure and which can become remorseless and then, amplify in action, the very conditions and qualities that were exposed. Life can be unpredictable for the unpredictable; word to the wise.

Everyone is responsible for what they consider important to themselves, if only because it affects their behavior and behavior has consequences. Sometimes those consequences are desirable in the face of greater consequences. Everyone has to decide for themselves what they will and will not risk. Given that people risk their lives for worthless things every day, this is just one more of the puzzles that attend the human estate. Another puzzle is why people will accept common and obvious fallacies in place of the obvious alternatives, or why they would accept as truth, something attended by a host of provable lies.

Things have progressed to a different stage now and larger events are imminent. These events are being manipulated by those in control of the currency. However, the manipulators are themselves being manipulated by the one gathering the evidence for their prosecution. It's either very simple or it's hopelessly complex. One thing for sure, wherever it appears to be hopelessly complex, someone is involved in making money off of it.

End Transmissions.......

Visible sings: 911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible♫ While the President Makes War ♫
'While the President Makes War' is track no. 8 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album
'911 was an Inside Job'

About this song (pops up)

911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible

This Sunday's radio show is now available for download.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Bobbing and Weaving and Seeking Relief.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Well, let's try again, shall we? Okay, no extraneous Morris's. Where's Neptune? Neptune's banging against the lead sky like The Goodyear Blimp and I've pulled over to the curb to let some of the air out of my head. I haven't seen shakier and more unpredictable times, like I am seeing at the moment, in a long, long time, Except maybe a few years ago (almost) in Italy. Italy is my Chinatown; “forget it Jake, it's Chinatown”.

Last night I watched a very attractive young lass, either march or stagger off of the stage on American Idol and drop about six feet to the ground and hit her head. I don't know what the result was but canny, savvy Fox TV put it on at the very end of the show and followed up with a teaser about seeing how she made out in the next episode. She kind of looked like someone had hit her with a tranquilizer dart. They might have. They certainly would if they could get away with it.

Man, the energy moving around in the atmosphere is something else. I laid down in bed last night and woke up, by my estimate, about a hundred times. If I slept it was in bursts of a few minutes here and there. The lucid dreaming thing is pretty intense and I'm catching boatloads of static or silence for having morphed into Sam Kinneson, instead of Eckhart Tolle. No way am I doing Tolle. I'd collapse into chronic narcolepsy. It would be kind of like being hired to be the lead singer for The Association on their 2012 Don't Come Back Tour.

Madonna will kick off her next 500 million dollar world tour in Tel Aviv on May 29th, no guarantees that Tel Aviv will still be there but that's the plan. Artists of all stripes like politicians, under siege from AIPAC, are being hammered on for fealty at the moment; interesting times backstage.

Mid March looms like a pipe bomb in a microwave. There's no telling though, which way goes the gang aft aglay. Sometimes I get the feeling that we're all like those polar bears on individual ice floes. We are close enough to exchange greetings but independently adrift on some cosmic recognizance. The Czech is in the mail.

I think we're all getting a little winded on the evolutionary StairMaster. One keeps climbing but doesn't actually get to the top of anything. Group murder sprees are accelerating. Many days, you have one on the front page of the virtual paper. People are hitting frustration levels never seen before. It's becoming, “dark as a dungeon way down in the mine”. I can just imagine the large number of parents out there who are trying to keep it together, while the 1% are taking it apart. The costs of everything keeps going up, while the sense of security and continuity keeps going down. It's easy to see why here and there people are freaking out. People are also doing all kinds of bad things they might not have imagined were possible for them before but all kinds of deep and dark cravings are being dragged out into the light.

It's uncertain within and unsafe without, or that is the reading I am getting. The principle difficulty seems to be having nothing to rely on besides one's own powers of industry and perception. I have got to be one of the luckiest men in the world in respect of this condition. I've always assumed it was readily available to the industrious and persistent but I don't really know anything, do I?

You never know what you're going to find when you scratch the surface of people. Wild beasts, indeed may lurk beneath the Botox mask and characteristics never imagined, can leap into action in these strange and hard to fathom times. There are a great many things going in a great many directions and some lumbering beasts trying to run under yoke in a particular direction. You figure there has to be a game plan and some leeway given for collateral damage, as well as general and basic survival but I can't see anything. The really bad guys are certifiably insane. They are committed and should be committed. A swarm of bats is flying over the Cuckoos nest but most of them are flying down into a hole in the Cuckoos nest.

This morning I got up and then went and laid down again in my office. There was this burning sensation in my heart and it was a little disturbing at first because I didn't know what was happening. Then it occurred to me that what was happening was something I had been putting in repeated requests for. Following that, my body is now clenching and unclenching, almost like what a cat does or how you can tense up, in a good way, following a full body yawn. It's of a longer duration and a greater clenching that I've encountered before. I don't know what to make of it; just go along with it as I have had to do with so many things in recent times.

I know there has to be some aspects of this 2012 thing that is real. The accuracy of The Mayan calender and all of the other companion sciences that are under investigation and being studied around the world, give indication of serious portents. Meanwhile, here we find ourselves on the doorstep of World War 3, just as you might expect at the end of any particular calender age in Kali Yuga.

Millions of seriously overweight Christians, are lining up for The Rapture, where they are going to get an ascend assist from one of God's hydraulic forklifts. In the times of holy wars, sanity will have left the building. You can do things in the name of God that you would never even consider getting Satan engaged in. It has gotten pretty absurd and ridiculous. The 'whip 'em into a frenzy' preachers are herding their flocks, under the direction of those who set policy for the underclass. They're herding them somewhere and it's likely that no one has a clue. Young Christian canon fodder moves very swiftly from praising Jesus and asking him to pass the ammunition, to pissing on Taliban corpses, or just any available corpses in the neighborhood. It's not like there's some kind of shortage.

I come in here or there, most days, not knowing what I'm going to say and these days that is more unpredictable than ever. I try to set my mind in a receptive state at the beginning and try to channel whatever the message is from inner space. However, lately it's been like shopping in one of those enormous dollar stores or box stores, where you can't find most of what you are looking for but you do come across a whole lot of things you weren't looking for.

If it gets much more intense than it already is, I'm going to have to go sit in the sauna for some while. That seems to do the trick, so far anyway. I try to imagine what it is like on the streets of any American city these days. I know it's not like the parts of Europe that I live in, where there's zero police presence and entire families are not getting massacred on a routine basis. Food is plentiful and cheap and people go around as I assume they have for hundreds of years, just doing their thing and being mostly pleasant about it. I remember walking into American bars, clubs and so forth and immediately looking for where the trouble would be located. I've never run into that over here. That's where I have a bit of a disconnect about the whole thing. They say Europe is going down and it will drag the rest of The West down with it. That means there are some pretty slimy characters at work over here too. I just don't happen to see them.

I'm trying to think of things to say but I don't know what to tell you. It's all murky and incomplete, shot full of a heightened giddiness that vibrates things like a water tumbler on a table. Someone recently said that we only have 26 days to live. That was a few days ago. I don't know what to think about that. It doesn't seem likely but, I wouldn't know. Existence has been threatening and promising a whole lot of things but simply hobbles on by like a man with a permanent limp. Maybe that's how it goes, existence limping into the future, until it becomes a speck on the horizon, or aliens come out of the sky with knives and forks and napkins. Whatever it is that we don't know is going to happen, gets closer by the day and we should see something shortly, whatever it is.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: Something New by Les Visible♫ Something New ♫
Lyrics (pops up)

I'll be on the Robert Phoenix radio show at 10:00 AM Pacific Time today.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

In the Time of the Dark Fiends

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

'I realize Origami is supposed to be next up but I have to go with what strikes me on occasion'.

I screwed up, this is not the Dick Morris that worked for the Clintons, that explains my befuddlement; talk about Neptune at work. But he looks so much like him, at least I thought he did. Heh heh, oh well, that solves the mystery. Well I can't rewrite the whole post which I would need to do so please bear with me in my moment of mental delocation. Let's just pretend it is Dick Morris, no, can't do that. Since I can't come up with a good excuse like God made me do it or the dog ate my homework, I'll leave it to you, the reader to make my excuses for me. Once again, sorry. No less than five readers swamped right in to point it out to me. The guy seems to be well known. I never heard of him. Carry on. I'll try not to operate any machinery today.

Oh my goodness, look at this. Isn't this the same guy who used to work for the Clintons and then became one of their biggest enemies? There's also something about a hooker and The Dick but I don't remember the details. I imagine that he does though. As I recall, it was big news at the time. I seem to remember that this guy, The Dick Morris LTD was/is a political hatchet man. I wish I could remember the scandal with the hooker because I can't see where it's any kind of a big deal when two hookers get together, it's more like professional courtesy. The political hookers are quite fond of the act of 68; you blow me and I owe you one.

Anyway, what The Dick is saying is riveting and I do not recall any political hack, of any stripe, ever getting close to what The Dick is saying here. It's more than a little strange that he would be the guy saying it. As I recall, if memory serves, The Dick is one of the sleaziest people in the business and that is saying something given the business. Then again, that's what they do, they give you the business, metaphorically speaking. You get the business end of their going out of business, everything must go, all sales are final. And just as in The Big One, 'operators are standing by, they'll be kneeling in a minute'.

The Dick is actually talking about the Kabala. I have never heard anyone mainstream talk about this. As you all know, the mainstream flows directly into The Cloaca Maxima and it also flows directly out of it too. It's a loop that operates on the principle of shit in and shit out and sometimes shit sideways, which might be the result of ricochet or some other logistical imperative.

This is the day of the dark fiends, or rather, the time of the dark fiends and now one of the dark fiends is talking about the other dark fiends. Does anyone else find this to be stranger that fiction? I've long been predicting that a time will come where there will be all kinds of people pointing at each other and telling us what they did. There is a cosmic pressure being applied and it is intensifying by the day. Consider the meaning of Apocalypse; uncovering, unveiling, this means by any means necessary. Full exposure is coming because that's the way it is in these kind of times. Along with that is going to come enormous screw-ups. Things are going to go very wrong in a way that was not the original intent.

I'm really shocked. Some of you might think it is no big deal, but for me, this is huge. This seems to indicate the beginning of all that is mentioned in the previous paragraph. What needs to be kept in mind is that in every transitional period, factors do not appear all by their lonesome. They are attended by complimentary forces which serve to enhance their impact.

Besides talking about the kabala and a worldwide conspiracy of fellow travelers, he talks about the gay movement and how it is being spearheaded by these same people. This is something I have mentioned many times to mixed reaction. He says that they are saying Tel Aviv is the gay capital of the world. The Dick says it isn't that and my first thought on the matter is that that would apply to San Francisco, where you have to be sure to wear some flowers in your hair. But this is an epic statement from a hired gun talking about the Hole in the Wall gang and it turns out to be a glory hole. He is confirming everything that has been talked about at this blog. Now, this guy is inside. He would pretty much know what is going on, given his connections, which I would guess are pretty vast. He has to be taken seriously, despite his terrible reputation. There was a fellow who worked for Reagan who was notorious for digging up all kinds of things on Reagan's enemies. His name became synonymous with nasty political gamesmanship. His name was Lee Atwater. The Dick is a lot like this guy. Okay, by accident I have come upon why The Dick and the hooker thing was a big deal. Wow! Now I remember. Yeah, that says it all about The Dick. There was this guy that used to be a comedian called, Dennis Miller. He now appears with Bill O'Reilly on a regular basis. Dennis had a reverse epiphany after 9/11. The Dick had a reverse, political epiphany at some point a few years ago and turned with a vengeance upon his former boss, Bill Clinton. The Dick and Dennis Miller have a lot in common. If you haven't seen what Dennis Miller does these days and the whole persona of his being; the way his face operates speaks volumes. Something bad happened to a lot of bent people over the last ten years and it's all due to 9/11.

Here's what happens. You are faced with unexplainable and massive inconsistencies in the official story. There are several ways you can go with this. You can look deeper into it and eventually discover all kinds of things, including who did it. However, if you are employed by these people, you have to buy the official line. This requires rebar reinforced denial. This makes you crazy and forces you to say very stupid things. It forces a complete adjustment in your personality to where one side of you is no longer communicating with the other side. Another option is that you can be indifferent. The pressure of apocalyptic change bears down directly on the denial state and causes an increasing difficulty in every area of life. It is as if you were driving a car and your left hand wants to go one way and your right hand wants to go in another and they are wrestling for control of the wheel. Meanwhile the driver is screaming out of both sides of his mouth, engaged in two conversations that accompany the force of each hand as they fight for domination.

I'll be really interested in what the reader has to say about The Dick video, as well as your opinion of my Not Politically Correct by Les Visible and The Critical ListLovesong for Madonna and "Surfer Joe" (link below). There has been a decrease in the humor quotient pretty much universally these days. People are more apt to get mean than to laugh. People are much less tolerant of anything that isn't operating on rails. People are far too sensitive about control issues. Any sign of anything being outside of a person's control, generates a fear factor, regardless of the outcome. Part of this is because insanity and violent, compulsive behavior is on the rise. People are losing it daily and doing terrible things to each other, their own families and what have you. Going postal is taking upon itself a flash mob patina. Pressure is bearing down and this pressure is for exposure. This doesn't just mean exposure to others. It also means exposure to yourself. It means confronting yourself but... if you can't do that the pressure will get worse and worse until it impacts on the weakest link in the chain.

Despite the usual problems that existed before 9/11, there was a carefree climate in Zionist occupied America and the other satellite, catamite countries. Following 9/11, a shroud of darkness has fallen on the lands referenced. Step by step, every freedom that formerly existed has been repossessed just like the houses. There hasn't been any reduction of this process and it is being implemented by the people who did 9/11 for that purpose. I'm stating the obvious but it needs to be said over and over. It needs to be shouted from the rooftops. The people doing bad things know about the Apocalypse and what it brings, so they are considering the destruction of Israel, even though this invented people happen to be Israeli, at least in a mindset. Something of this size and significance would remove the increasing focus on all the terrible things that nation has been engaged in and confer a lasting bonus of greater victim-hood that would be pretty hard to counter. This is the intent as I see it and The Dick is not talking like he is by accident and I doubt it is on his own recognizance either.

One of the things that doesn't get talked about a lot is who the people that were killed at the Pentagon were and what they did for a living and what was housed at that specific location. The same applies to all of the agencies and businesses that existed at The Twin Towers and Building 7. The destruction of records and ongoing investigations was a primary motive for the attacks, along with turning world opinion against Muslims and granting motive for endless war in certain locations. It was also to create sympathy for a certain little country whose antipathy for Muslims is relentless and enduring. It greatly benefited them, which is another primary motive for their having done 9/11.

I keep shaking my head about The Dick's Youtube address. I can't get my head around his mentioning the kabala and worldwide conspiracy, involving world control and control of a sexual agenda. It's surreal that he would be there saying these things. I get the strong impression that he was ordered to do this. I imagine that more is coming from various sources in the same manner. Having seen this I am suddenly confronted with the reality that just about anything can happen now. Am I confused or overreacting? This seems like a really big deal to me. I have literally never heard a single mainstream sewer rat come anywhere close to what's being said. I don't guess that many people have seen it yet but they will.

Neptune is looming very big at the moment. I find myself having to be personally careful due to the sort of things that come along with Neptune. It's similar to walking around in a nitrous oxide cloud. There's that anything can happen and probably will sensation. The inside and the outside are both foreign and new. How about you?

End Transmission.......

Visible and The Critical List: Not Politically Correct by Les Visible and The Critical List♫ Surfer Joe ♫
'Surfer Joe' is track no. 6 of 12 on Visible and The Critical List's 1992 album
'Not Politically Correct'

About this song (pops up)

Not Politically Correct by Les Visible and The Critical List

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Super Bowl Sunday and the Material, Kabala Girl.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

This is as cold as I have ever seen and I live in the warmest part of the European country I reside in. Up in the mountains it is 20c colder than here and it's -10c here, even with the bright sunshine. I went to the town dump the other day and had about ten different boxes of things that had to go into different metal bins. I'd seen some work gloves on my way out, the invisible was looking out for me, but I said, “Nah”, ...big mistake. By the time I was done I could not feel my hands. I went to the supermarket after and was in a just bearable agony, as the life came back into my fingers. Smartly, I had ordered some ski suits a couple of years ago and they are just the ticket. I'm not going to say that the cold can kiss my ass; that sounds like the wrong thing to say somehow.

It's Super Bowl Sunday today; one of those big national events, where that small margin of the culture that is enjoying the results of a concerted effort to destroy the country, are gathered to celebrate their excesses, see and be seen ...and hopefully there will be enough money left over for cocaine and a six pack of imported hookers. There's an amusing segment here from a good old boy about why The Pats are the most hated team. The last segment features a suave looking guy who nails a certain feature about human nature.

Mr. Visible hasn't paid much attention to football/sports over the last ten-twelve years. He saw the Super Bowl in 2008 and a few games here and there but his attention has been on other things. Somehow, visible has known that The Patriots would go to the Super Bowl for several months now. The last playoff game with The Ravens, who had knocked them out once before a couple of years ago, seemed to be the biggest hurdle. That had to be one of the strangest games I have ever seen. There was no rhyme or reason to them actually winning that game. In the final moments, Billy Cundiff shanked a chip shot from near point after range... inexplicable. It would have sent the game into overtime. The Pats might still have won but they were doing their best not to. Tom Brady looked like he had just been promoted from The Pop Warner league. It was embarrassing and spooky at the same time. A reader said that the game has been fixed since Myra Kraft died and was quoted as having said around that time that she wanted to see The Patriots beat The Giants in this Super Bowl. This was well before anyone knew what the results would be. I don't know about fixing games but that is a lot easier in basketball than it is in football; far too many players and imponderables, unless you get to the quarterback. Of course, the owner was a Tribe member. I almost hate to bring it up. I probably don't have to bring it up, the exception is when they don't own whatever is under discussion.

I happened by the web site of a fellow I used to collaborate with artistically and noted that all mention of me was gone from his website. The one project he left up had no author mentioned. All the other efforts were in place. These are the injuries we receive and the price you pay (cue The Boss) when you don't compromise in favor of your seeming best interests and point out the obvious; which most people don't want to know about, talk about, be in the same room with. Of course, the end result of this is a general enslavement, when literal death does not apply, to go with that matching three piece suit of the already enslaved heart and mind.

I realize that I could probably be a well paid and successful writer by now, had I played my cards right and done some kind of religious suckup dance but I was never able to pull that off. I'm a pretty good actor and made my living at it here and there but there are some roles where I just don't make the grade. I suck at sucking up. Somehow they can tell I am not sincere. Then there's that internal, electric feature that puts the woo woo into the hoodoo, even if the hoodoo lacks the apparent voodoo. That's the thing about the different color grades of magic, voluntary (and in my case) involuntary. People ignorant of the subtle aspects, invariably mistake one side for the other, based on their own innate predispositions of which they are generally, uniformly unaware. It's human nature to ascribe characteristics to others that are active or latent in ourselves. We tend to see what we most likely would do.

I think to myself that it is possible The Super Bowl halftime show could be worse. They could have Lady Gaga instead of The Material Slave Girl. Yes, The Material Slave Girl is something of a historian. She wants to go in chains to darkest Egypt, even though Darkest Egypt has been long gone these many years. Egypt was originally called Kemet, or Kermit, if you like frogs. It seems they had a few of those at one time. These days, many Egyptians call the place Misr, which I think is short for Misery, which misery has come their way via the same highway most everyone else's misery comes from these days. But, of course, even with the incredible weight of evidence that proves this beyond any and all doubt, I must be wrong to believe my lying eyes.

I am very much noticing the shifting of those seeking to be sitting at the tables after the tables turn. I see the sudden and dramatic shift in conscience among those where conscience is not actually resident. I see what's going on. I wish I didn't. I see the new trend that's showing up, where the culprits are not the culprits but just more of the victimized and duped and once again, no one knows who it is that's really behind it all. I always used to think that when you did provably bad shit all day long at the expense of everyone else around you and when there was major historical evidence of repeat offender status, far beyond that of any other entity on Earth, that some of the blame; some small portion of the blame? Well, that would apply to red-handed reavers to whose doorstep the evidence leads. Now you could say it's all Satan's fault, cause he's coiled up in the atavistic regions of a certain collective, reptile brain but now it appears there is some kind of detached puppeteer, shadow group, whose names we are not allowed to know, who have been responsible for all these things and likely have always been responsible for these things and everyone else is not only innocent but deserves special understanding for being used in such a disgraceful fashion against their will. I'm pretty perplexed, given that I am not perplexed, nor am I a well paid and successful writer either.

I figure that some of us are going to sleep in well appointed featherbeds, by dint of birth, effort or natural talent. I suppose like anyone, I wouldn't mind that, so long as it didn't come at the expense of some folks having no bed at all. I wouldn't mind a lot of things, as long as they didn't come at the expense of another, but we are in crowded house, dog eat dog territory. It's an expected perversion of human nature to scrabble and plot for personal gain, in the midst of more than enough for everyone.

My life and the, slowly coming into focus, image of what lies ahead, is not in my hands, it never was apparently. All the disconnected, seemingly unrelated events that compose the fractured landscape of my life, no longer seem disconnected or unrelated. It's all of a piece. I suppose it seemed disconnected, since I was disconnected and composed of several parts that got separated from the whole, by virtue of life's hard hammering on a fragile clay pot. Love is a natural adhesive and, given time and some degree of consistency and serenity, the cosmic magnetics will make the timeless adjustment into whole cloth. My heart bleeds for all the broken and fractured beings, who don't understand the mysterious possibilities of the journey of life and who bow out of the force of the wind and the rain for a compromised cubbyhole in Dreamville. There are certain features and qualities that define a real human being. Lose them, surrender them, for a mess of pottage and you're no longer human. You're in a gray area of transit, where the loss of these qualities and features is noticeable as you go. Once given up, these things are difficult to regain. It's a slippery slope, where the things you traded them for, war against their return.

I have a deeply seated desire to forgive. I am not in the same position as those who have lost everything to the industries and designs of evil men. Forgiving and forgetting are not the same things. There's a lot that goes by the wayside as the result of confusions bred in disordered times. What would seem to be the most important parts of a person, are sacrificed on the altar of disingenuous causes. Windup soldiers march into flames and explosions, with no understanding of the truth of the matter. Their sacrifice was as pointless as the unexamined lives that permitted their passage into anonymous graves. These days they simply bulldoze them into a landfill. Someone ought to be standing by in a clown suit with a kazoo to play Taps.

I don't know where we're going and very few others do either, no matter what they say, or what authority they appropriated to the purpose of saying whatever it is they are saying. I suspect that every one of us is going to learn some significant and lasting lessons soon. Some of those lessons are going to be welcome surprises, having to do with endurance and persistence in the right course. Some are going to be serious and unexpected surprises, having to do with callous and indifferent harms, given out like they were Halloween candy, by real werewolves and vampires.

We're so used to seeing the sun rise in an external fashion. It's going to be something else again when it happens in another location.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: God in Country by Les Visible♫ Every Day ♫
'Every Day' is track no. 11 of 11 on Visible's 2001 album 'God in Country'
Lyrics (pops up)

God in Country by Les Visible

There will be a radio show tonight at 7:30 Central Time.