Saturday, June 30, 2012

The Dark and Hideous and the Great Unwashed

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Last night's machine gun radio show is available for download. Here I relapse back into the sort of routine I used to employ in my standup performances, possibly an indication that I should sit down (grin).

♫One more Smoking Mirrors for the road (kidding!)♫ One thing continuously stands out ♫as time goes by♫ and that is the unbelievable mendacity and excess on the part of that group of psychopathic nitwits and numbskulls who are engaged in the crap we all have to deal with. They lower the bar by the hour. It's only a matter of time before they are doing the limbo in China, should they get through the molten core of the Earth. Well, since they are inevitably headed to a place where the climate and atmosphere are quite similar to the core of the Earth, I suppose we'll just let the irony meld with the absurdity, in the crock-pot of the culture. Standing around in a neoprene dominatrix outfit, with little pointy horns on her head, is Julia Child. We'd have to say that's an expression of this 'shake and bake' culture; Julia Child standing around waiting on a crock-pot. It's similar to Bwak! Obama standing around and waiting for the day's drone, kill list. He's had the pockets cut out of his pants so that he can handle himself. Depending on what gets you off, the anticipation can be nerve wracking and that's why Bwak! has to engage in 'stress relief management'. If you don't know what that is, just pick up one of the local classified yellow sheets that are available in any large metropolitan area.

When I went to school in NYC at The Swedish Institute, to study Shiatsu and varieties of massage, it was an ongoing subject of amusement and some of us would speculate on who among us would later go into the practice of 'stress relief management'. It's guaranteed money and so are all the other forms of 'stress relief management', like killing bystanders and their families with drone attacks, assassinating whomever, whenever, wherever because they got tagged as an Al Qaeda; members of the CIA construct for the purpose of Zionist oppression against the unfortunate, not 'self chosen' peoples of the world. Whether they are fomenting world wars, or orchestrating any number of genocidal enterprises, when it comes to being the chief footsoldiers of Satan's insider army, they have no equal.

Some people are tired of hearing about this. I'm tired of seeing it and being endlessly convinced that it is so and I m tired of the general cowardice and ignorance of the population of Nodwells and Nimrods who lumber around like the presently extinct Dodo birds , who also have the pockets cut out of their pants; given that they even remember to wear pants. They often opt for a trench-coat with a pair of pants legs held up by rubber bands around the knees. They're an imaginative bunch.

My general modus is to do a quick alternative news scan and a short wade into the murky toxins of the crass media and then see what flows out of the underground streams I sit over. We all have underground streams but very often, most people fly fish above ground, because internal voices make them feel uneasy, even though it's the other voices that should make them uneasy. What happens in periods of intense material culture is that people get things backwards and insist that they do not and get really torqued and ticked off about having it brought to their attention. They seem to like the completely false idea that a certain small group of Arabs were magically capable of blowing up two (or was that 3?) massive buildings, full of innocent, hard working Americans, even though a Mossad team was camped out on the upper floors for some weeks previous to the controlled demolition and even though there is an over powering and irrefutable weight of evidence that proves who was behind the whole matter; who also benefited in the aftermath and who used the event to manipulate the world's greatest military super power into destroying one country after another.

My general modus operandi is to try to focus on the central issues and the main central issue of our time is the combined multi-pincher intensive, on the part of a gang of Satanic thugs, who have systematically and intentionally destroyed the American economy, while simultaneously looting it; who have used their exclusive control of the media and their pervasive influence in government and the legal system, to turn America into a police state and whose agents were behind the creation of Homeland Insecurity and whose agents presently sit in controlling positions, for the same and who also brought about the TSA to further emphasize their demeaning of and destruction of American culture; supposing there even is such a thing. There's a lot more to this, such as their mass murder of tens of millions over recent centuries. The biggest problem in respect of all of this, is that all of it is true, even though most people don't want to hear about it and who insist it is not true, even though I can prove it beyond argument. They like to shout you down and hurl insults, because they are deeply afraid that recognizing the truth, will cost them something that their easy acceptance of transparent lies, made it possible for them to acquire. They are deeply afraid that their circle of associates, who remain deeply in denial, will ostracize them and show them how shallow their presumed friendships are. They are deeply afraid that they will come to the attention of the ruling authority and the cabal that provides it with its marching orders and that what is already scheduled for them will happen even sooner.

I could discuss a lot of things here today, or say nothing at all but anything else I might discuss of any relative importance, is more than likely also connected to this same concern. I'm sure there are some exceptions like the Colorado fire but I don't know what is going on there. There are some things that may or may not have to do with Lady Nature and I'm pretty sure about her position on this whole affair. In any case, the force that most aggressively and powerfully impacts on our lives in the day to day are the multifarious operations of a global crime syndicate that is behind human trafficking, organ harvesting, the drug trade, kiddie porn and all other forms of porn; you name it and if it's wrong, they're pretty much head over heels engaged in it. This is, no doubt, hard to understand by the vast majority of people who do not want to understand and it is directly tied into all of the things that are coming up. This includes the things they are engineering and the destiny being forged by the cosmos in respect of them.

What's coming has been coming for a long time. It's safe to say that no one individual knows all the ins and outs of the matter. It's also safe to say that very few people know how it's going to work out. The saner projection is that it will work out, or not work out, in many, many different ways, depending on who we're talking about. Destiny is a unique thing and it is specific to the player it applies to. Every action does not bring uniform consequences. There are a number of features that influence Karma and the ramifications of it's outworking. This is something every soul needs to consider, within the silence of his or her own contemplations. In some cases, justification is the primary motivation. In other cases it is guilt. In some cases it is engaged reflection, in the pursuit of understanding and in other cases it is indifference, along the lines of, “who gives shit”?

The manifest conditions of the past, present and future, are all massively affected by an insidious collection of determined psychopaths, whose end game is the destruction of all that is good, followed by slavery and death, wherever and whenever possible. We are talking about entities who do evil for the sheer joy of it. Giving any other interpretation to it is unfortunate, because it limits your capacity to see the full measure of what you are dealing with.

There is no reasonable alternative, or other combine, at whose door the responsibility for these things can be laid. In the interest of some strange idea of fairness, or an unwillingness to engage the truth, people clutch at straws to find something ,anything, that will give them someone else to blame. Of course, they can blame themselves to some extent, for all sorts of reasons, that have been exhaustively detailed here and elsewhere ...but anyone who has put the requisite time into impartially examining what has happened and who made it happen and why, must always come to the same conclusion, no matter what direction they approach it from.

We're about to pass over a very important line that is going to change everything, from what we formerly knew it as, into something very strange indeed. We're operating under the partial effect of temporal forces, in a particular state of decay. We are also operating under the effects of forces we cannot see and which, in many cases, many people are completely unaware of. The actual motive power behind both of them is the same. The manner of application is different, because of the medium employed to direct the force ...but the force... is the same in both cases ...and this is a significant thing that it behooves every consciousness capable of that awareness, to deeply consider for their own safety and peace of mind; should that prove to be possible. Things are not what they seem. We've heard that to the point that it often doesn't register but, it's true. Grasping the underlying unity and symmetry in all things and comprehending the encircling and abiding power that is acting out in various ways, permits one a stability and a freedom that otherwise might not be there for the taking. Fear and ignorance are their own reward.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: 911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible♫ Have I Got This Right? Talking 9/11 Blues ♫
'Have I Got This Right?' is track no. 2 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album
'911 was an Inside Job'

Lyrics (pops up)

911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

The BP Hell Bitch and the Fukushima Slut do Lunch

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Well, the bleat goes on, as million of sheep pursue The Silence of the Lambs. The proof for the poetry and policy of what happened in Iceland (read the comments below the video) is now beyond dispute. This is the template for what must be done around the world. We have spoken often about removing all of your assets from the hands and control of the vampire bankers. We have recommended recurrent national work and 'spend no money' strikes, in all affected lands, as a means toward bringing the governments, corporations and bankers to their knees. There are two options which will eliminate the toxic plague of the financial lampreys from the body collective. One method is, 'the island of bankers', something along the lines of Devil's Island, which would be a most appropriate name. In this option, all central banksters and their various enablers would be permanently quarantined on a remote island, somewhere in some ocean. This would be a forced labor camp, where they would receive food and a certain amount of amenities, in exchange for specific industry. That industry would be to build a high wall, all around their living compound with a single gate for ingress and egress. This encircling wall would stand as lasting testimony to the dangers presented by those so contained The other possibility is The Ceauşescu option. The expected result would most likely be a combination of the two.

There are no rational or reasonable arguments for any other actions, except to place them in the prison systems of each of the affected countries. Since Corfu is one of the residences of the banker scum in chief, that location might be a consideration. One wonders about all those private and secret locations, that aren't private and aren't secret. One wonders about all those getaways twinkling in their 'for a few dollars more', for a few days more, universe. Is that all going to still be around? Is it even still around now, as the Fukushima wind and rain, falls not mainly on the plain, or in Spain? It's right about now when I start thinking about things like quick brown foxes jumping over lazy dogs. That will pass; momentary hiatus, in the pressing forward, of the moment and moments, all those intrigues and plots are going to collectively bring forth, in a twisted kind of 'be fruitful and prosper' way. Way? No way.

There are places for the rest of us, if we take the tour and you can have few days here and a few days there and... all of these places, to some degree, some major, some less so, are touched by the Fukushima wind and rain. The situation is not stable ...even yet, or did I miss the announcement. Some times I am away from my desk, a couple of days here and there and maybe it all got fixed, while I was away. My preference is, 'mais oui' but I have not seen what I wanted to see; the Royals and Rothschild's owned utility BP, poisoned The Gulf of Mexico and water tends to find itself, cause it will travel through every crevasse and crease. Sooner or later the BP, Hell Bitch will meet up with the Fukushima Slut. Somewhere in that hog wallowing entropy, we will see what is what (I use a certain link for the way it feeds back on itself and you will follow up with your own inquiries, or not); delayed here, advanced there, detoured through a roundabout, it goes where it goes, for whatever the reason may be, in those times when humanity has lost it's reason and “Hello, I'll be your waiter, Uranus ...and Pluto here is the sommelier. Others may well also attend you. I will tell you what we have and you can tell me what you want and the giant millstone that is rotating around the dining area will grind out for what there is”.

My own focus, given my love of Lady Nature, is upon these things. No mention is being made about them. I guess they were some kind of non event. Did these things just get fixed while I was sleeping? Otherwise it seems very strange. Wouldn't you think that experts and technicians all over the world would have raced to these places? Does it mean these things can't be fixed?

I have no burning motivation to survive here. I do not consider myself a welcome guest. As the cycles always show and always continue, some portion of us has stolen everything that can be stolen from all of the rest. Even now, with more than they could ever spend, they are looking to get more. Well, you never know? Maybe all the wood and coal will disappear and then those packed bundles of currency might just keep you warm.

Surely some will read these words and say, “visible, that is a little extreme”. These bankers are just people who made a few mistakes”. That is true and I have made mistakes too. I have been excessive in my pursuit of meaning and didn't count the cost, as a fine lady once said, 'Tis this desire of bending all things to our own purposes, which turns them into confusion and is the chief source of every error in our lives” so, I have my own Occupy movement and that is Occupy Me. I'm going to occupy me. That's the only way to find out who the landlord is and the value of it.

Yeah, maybe I shouldn't be so hard on those bankers. We all make mistakes. They may have been reckless and I have been reckless. They have been irresponsible. I have been too. I'm trying to get around to justifying my right to say anything, for surely, I am dissolute. Never mind that I manage and maintain, trying to soften the blows upon my heart, as it so happens, being a witness to the wreckage on the plain.

The price of doing business in Kali Yuga is whatever you have to compromise yourself with to get through it. Some have the discipline to hammer themselves down through the course of it. I lack that restraint. I don't care what it costs me, in terms of manageable luminescence, if the sacrifice bought the fait accompli. We're not so far apart, you and I, bankers. We both want it all. It just comes down to how much our conscience can tolerate the doing of it, at someone else's expense.

When they killed tens of millions in Russia were those bankers they shot? When they did it in the Ukraine and in Ireland was it bankers that starved? During the French Revolution, was it bankers that met La Madame? Now, the usual suspects are in Libya, carving up what there is. They're proactive in Syria and let's not forget Iran. Somebody is making a whole lot of money and somebody is visiting all those beaches and resorts. It seems they like them some respite from the relentless, with all inclusive jollies and their own kind of jolie. When Germany got fed up with the bankers, like before when Wilson turned over the printing press, a whole lot of people died. There's all kinds of evidence, all kinds of evidence. You may not want to see it. You think it's safer to just agree, that things which didn't happen, happened ...and things that happened didn't happen. Bad magic is in the cauldron between the devil and the deep blue sea.

These poor bankers, they've made some errors and what the fuck, “are we not all honorable men”? The arms merchants and the people who sell the history books, to the schools for your children and those who use them for party favors, I guess you would have to say some of that was wrong, but we all make mistakes. We all get fucked up now and again. Sometimes we even get fucked and we like it. Those are all factors in the theme, from Samarkand to Sayonara, to Somerset Maugham. We all take care of our duties, in the embassy outposts and occasional consulates, in our postings at home and abroad. Most of us work with the bankers, who build the maze and hide the cheese. It will work out tomorrow, or next week. It does work out somehow, it's just not what you want. The carrot is closer now and so is the stick.

There is no degree of complexity here, go back to 2008... go back to the theft of your saving and industry, to salvage the banker estate. They committed real crimes. There were discussions and debates. There was talk of prosecutions but so far... heh heh, Bend over and Wait.

No, I see no prosecutions, no criminal charges. The same blood ticks are siphoning. Their governmental fluffers are keeping them at the ready. Their enforcement arms are wearing earpieces and sunglasses, or uniforms here and there. They are all fucked up on patriotism, for some non existent county. They're all fucked up about their mothers and apple pie. They are generally fucked up but they got the law on their side.

There should be a poem somewhere about the banker and the president, walking on the beach. It doesn't have to involve oysters. There are other shellfish in the sea and even many fishes for the moment but that's bound to decrease. BP and Fukushima have both said their piece. With Rio Tinto (Hi Ho Silver!) and Rothschild, Monsanto, Smith, Kline and French; sounds like the law firm from Hell and they probably is. The banks and the corporations, they are what they are, in the world where you live and you will go on and endure this for as long as you can.

Somewhere a golden age lies secreted in our dreams. It really wants to happen but other things must happen first. You can pray, or work all day, or you can gum up the works. It looks like it will find its own solution, due to 'when push comes to shove' and where the stability below, can no longer sustain the fragile above... that ephemeral illusion of hedge and derivatives cause, they just can't get enough. They truly are vampires and worse than that. They don't even drink most of the blood. They spill it out on the ground for the dark ones they serve and who nestles in their head, snuggy and comfy. Hey, what can you say? That's how they do it: ♫I did it my way♫ Stay positive and steady as she goes.

Something interesting, is coming to a theater of operations near you, soon.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: Songwriter by Les Visible♫ Smoke and Mirrors ♫
'Smoke and Mirrors' is track no. 9 of 10 on Visible's 2006 album 'Songwriter'
Lyrics (pops up)

Songwriter by Les Visible


This weekends radio show is available for download.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Brazillions and Kingdoms and what about me?

Dog poet transmitting

There are good men and bad men ...and there are, low to the ground, weasel creatures, who do what creatures like that do to the rest of you. They went into Libya and murdered the waters of the desert, like it was midnight up in your anus; put your camel to bed. They killed a man who could have been better... (You could have done better?) but there had been peace among the tribes ...and the miracle of water ...and learning for the children without rival around. Oh yeah, uh huh... oh yeah... they put the motherfucker in the ground. Listen up son, don't you go messing with that Rothschild banking cartel... oh no, my brutha... they will put you down. They will put you down.

They did the same thing In Afghanistan cause... cause.... well, let me see, yeah, the Taliban shut down the dope river. When needs be... that you just have to have every goddamned thing in sight, cause your belly still ain't tight. Oh no, you could swallow the world. Big money there. Black money there. Brazillians of dollas there. So who do I have to kill to get my piece or real sss-esstate? Oh... it's the same thing in The Congo too. What's that? I'm sorry, could you speak a little louder? No worries baby, we will get around to you to, if you got anything we want. We are the monster, just like a dinosaur. You can call me T-Rex. I'm just going to eat you up. I gots to have my Brazillions and I gots to have them now.

So let's fast forward to the present cause I got a serious Syrian jones. I got to get me some Assad head before I get into my sprawling nod. I like to lay in the blood afterward...drank enough of it for the moment and I'll just expand. All that blood I couldn't even drink, will be swallowed by the sands. The seeping, trickle down Xanadu... nah, those caverns weren't measured by man. Course, you got to be as measureless as you can, when all it is that you do is, expand and consume and hold onto with all that Silas Marner might. There is no end to my appetite, or what I will do and, yes, I will get around to you.

The river is deep and the river is wide and if you get in my way there is no other side. I'm the banker baby. Darling, I am the bank. Just like the banks of the river. ♫Moon niggas, whiter than the Nile, I'll be crossing you in style today. We're after the same bend over when, ...I say.... MY Moon Niggards and me.

Yeah, too be true, the bear does shit in the woods; specially those Russian bears they can shit fire. Deep thinkers and drinkers... uh huh... but hard and cold ...and intelligence works best when it is cold. ♫I've got bloody rivers to cross and I still can't find my... crimson clover♫. It has been said that the devil is in the details. Well here it is before your eyes, coming up in the windshield and don't be surprised. I know, I know, I shed a tear. I was walking with the walrus and the carpenter and thinking about how you might have oyster shells for eyes, since that would be the psychopathic accoutrement; probably what you like about yourself. Well hey there isn't anyone else anyway.. is there? Not according to you. You're the banker. You're the bank. I know they were real disappointed in Tel Aviv when that Stuxnet virus did it's capoeira all over their sushi needs, of course that was compounded and clusterfucked by by Lady Nature who got tired of being treated like your bitch. Still, life is filled with disappointments and loss and there are so many of us that just wanted to do the right thing; good people trying to have a life but.. that's the big disappearing act; exit stage DOWN for the middle class, detune the musicians and shitshop the artists, the circus is coming to town.

Don't go on the radio, forget the TV, you can't talk about truth here, that's easy to see and harder to hear, harder and harder to hear, white noise interference and blue screens all around. Pressure is building and buildings will fall, that's what happens when people are balls to the wall. Doesn't matter which Armageddon, they're always the same. Empires over extend, when they've already won. Then they turn on their own people just to stay alive, while the banks steal them blind, working on the inside. And then comes the big war when everyone's desperate, some lose their homes or their jobs. The next thing is their life. Pleasant dinners, sweet dreams when murder's your wife. The byways of bankers are the highways of war. That's where the money is. That's how it gets done. Like in those cities with big shoulders that the Zio-thugs run.

Maybe you call that living but that's not for me. Like mad dogs and Englishmen they sit down for tea. The queens got a pussy cloaxa maximus style. It's a river of shit on a ship in the dark. You can look out your window but you got to stay in. There are bad things in the park. It's just sooner or later. That's all that it is, cause the system is broken from despicable greed. They got plans for the southlands. That's where they're headed to soon, to sit on their islands of money, to wallow in Krugerrand gold, to fuck all the children they kidnapped; keep them warm when they start to get old. Everywhere else is everywhere else, you know, that's where you are... for the moment... for the moment.

I don't incite violence. I don't get hard from abuse, except for the abuse I suffered; that hardened me up. I'm not too fat to die. I'm not too precious to lose but you, my flush friends... um hum, what about you?What about you?... townhouses, high rises, skyscrapers to nowhere. All those beautiful beaches, all those poisonous seas, oh yeah that's what's happening your castle's in siege. You can't drink the water cause you shit where you ate. Your frame is collapsing, both of those frames, like the eyes in sunglasses that nobody sees, so you can do as you please. You can do as you please. So, Mister archbishop with the boys on their knees, all rise and salute the darkness, all rise and salute the darkness, all drown in dismembered bodies, there in the sunken, underground kingdoms of your fare the well. The light is coming, be afraid, be afraid.

For too long we have all been afraid of you, the power you had and what you could do but now you fucked your system and it can't be fixed and the world's eyes are opening, that's just how it is. It came slowly forever, now it's faster than light. It's the eye of the moment. It's on you. That's right. You couldn't stay in the shadows. You might have gotten away... for thousands of years it's been coming. It's been coming and you publicized yourselves. You lived it up in pictures and film. They wrote stories about you, the places you live and there are millions of eyes in the forest. The forest is coming for you. Cut down one tree and two new ones get legs. You made all those poisons and toxic vaccines. You're the getaway junkie too addicted to leave. That is the gotcha.... monkey with the mango in the vase. Monkey with the avocado in the vase. It's a kind of karmic killing jar and, it is where you are.

All your subterranean cities must be staffed by someone, all those someone's whose families you killed. You got crawling drone spiders and tiny flying machines but your attention is in the wrong direction when it's not in your jeans, scuzze.. you don't wear jeans you like that mufti crapola with the tie round the neck. You know that's a hangman's nose huh? Oh you don't get that? Sure you can hang by the doorknobs in au-to-e-ro-tik-fix but the invisible clothesline is what really snaps your neck. The one where your dirty laundry hangs, hang together, hang separately, it don't make no dif, no if's ands or but about it. It's a question of when. Here comes your fate, from beginning to end.

Doesn't matter if you believe this, or believe as I do, in invisible things that see right through you. What matters is, is it? Well fuck! Wait and see..There's a God? There's no God? It don't change a thing, cah-ching cah-ching... hear the cash register ring. Time will tell. We will find out tomorrow what tomorrow will bring. Like they say, “ain't no thing” cah-ching... cah-ching. Karma still happens... oh wait, maybe not... cause you don't think so... heh heh... heh heh

All those dreamtimes in the future, all those launchpads in the past, all that 'enjoy the moment', joie de vive! Will it last? Twenty six thousand years and a whole lot got said and you just went by, now the moment approaches and you don't even know why? I'm astonished. It's touching, the degree of neglect is so great in your person that nothing reflects. It's vampire city and cannibal town. It's dark and it's dirty...going down? Going down? Oh well not my ticket, enjoy the show.

There's a hunger in Bangkok ( Bang Cock?) . There's a fear in Rangoon. There are mountains gone missing. There\s a plague on the tides and the river of shit? On and on, on and on she just rides. This playtime is over. You fuckheads had fun, while there's judgment in your court, we got work to get done. These are strange times now coming, not seen since where or when. It's a whole different ballgame coming up on the rim.

For the good men and ladies, don't you trouble your mind. Death ain't no big thing on this endless incline. For the stupid and brain dead, Who's talking to you? For the rest, God have mercy, or maybe there's none... no god... and no mercy... In some cases that's true. You got to factor the outcome is completely on you.


End Transmission......

Visible sings: God in Country by Les Visible♫ Prevail ♫
'Prevail' is track no. 6 of 11 on Visible's 2001 album 'God in Country'
Lyrics (pops up)

God in Country by Les Visible

Saturday, June 9, 2012

The Roach Motel at the End of the Universe

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

(I'll be on Red Ice Radio the week following this one coming. Time and day will be announced in advance. I'm only taping it this coming week. Sorry about any confusion.)

(Yesterday's radio show is now available for download.


Sometimes you don't have to look far to find something to talk about. You don't have to wait for the voice in your head, it just shows up and throws it in your face. Part of your mind, or someone's mind says that every one of these creatures should be rounded up and put on trial, followed by the quick and speedy execution of capital punishment, or life in prison, without hope of parole. That includes the oilmen performing it; the politicians permitting it, the oversight and enforcement agencies ignoring it, those explaining it and those... -

-those only concerned with milking the greatest rent from their railroad flat apartments, greasy spoons and whatever side of the road, cash hijacking machines they've set up to wring some temporary vermin profit from it, can be left to the fate of vermin, once the plunder leaves town and all that remains are wide wastes where nothing grows and deep pits of wet, stinking, death assured, hot weather swimming pools for their stunted, hillbilly heroin addicted, children.

Corollary incidentals always appear in tandem with these things and even members of the socio-political retard army can see the connection ...but what's the fun or profit in that? Isn't it just better to let this shit go on and get all righteous and weepy about the backend, drowning in a rain of hypocritical tears, as you bemoan the loss of so many things, caused by global hand-warmers at fixed football games?

The people doing these things are the spiritual offspring of serial killers and mass murdering psychopaths. They know what they're doing and they know what happens but it just doesn't matter and... maybe, at this point it doesn't. Most of the population is in bed with it on some level; some are just sleeping in better accommodations, some of them even have their own idea of environmental awareness and a love of Nature and some of them are into consciousness improving retreats, where they can take a few minutes to rationalize it all and come to peace with it. Of course, whether it comes to peace about it, with them, is another story.

Once the sleepwalking, wide load, expando-pants, shit for brains, consumer zombies can really, absolutely, no longer put “food on their families” and the ones who haven't yet been matriculated to another world, by their murderous and insane progeny, or the temporary berserker status of the head of the household, or some relative come back from foreign killing fields, who can't live with themselves or you anymore; once it finally dawns on them that they have to go live in their car and they can't afford the gas to run the heater in their car, when winter comes, in order to take a nice carbon monoxide nap, prior to a morning that never arrives, when they meant, with all good intentions, to head down to the Slurpee factory, to see if they were taking on part time, day laborers, it's possible... it's possible that enough of them will get together and storm their houses of government and drag the toads, lampreys and pigs from their paneled offices and dispense the justice they should have gotten a long time before but... there's no telling how it will all sort out. It won't sort out well in most places, that's pretty much a given.

Those who are getting just what they deserve, from the government they deserve, will keep right on nodding their heads, like plastic, bobbing flamingos on high ball glasses, while whatever infernal alien in chief that runs their slice of Idiocracy, drones on and on about recovery and a return to the good life they never had to begin with. All the now, human sized ticks, operating as bureaucratic functionaries and assholes with guns and clipboards, will be going around and knocking on doors, exercising edicts and informing the residents that one more thing they took for granted and once considered a right has now become illegal. Not only has it become illegal but the law will clearly state that they should have known what they didn't know and at least one member of the household is now to be dragged out on to the front lawn and impaled on a flaming spike, as a warning to their neighbors.

It's not like they don't lack the courage and conviction, at some level, because just as soon as whatever Zio-Orge entity who runs the joint, tells their leaders that some country, somewhere, has to be turned into a smoldering, open air graveyard, they will and do gladly deliver their children to the task. Heck, if they're still in any kind of shape, given they have no job anyway, they’ll go too. Meanwhile the wife can run some kind of hotsheet split-level home, to cover whatever taxes and penalties might ensure for whatever reason the thieves in power create to acquire it.

This probably sounds like satire or sarcasm to some and terrorism to others but it's all true. It might look and play out a little differently but the results will be the same and something very like all of it is going on all over the place right now or... maybe you can't see that. That is altogether possible. You won't be hearing about it where you get your news and you won't be reading about it here. I could have had a thousand times the readers I have now, if I had just put naked pictures in to accompany the text, a la Kilgore Trout. For some reason that idea never did surface here and still hasn't, even though I am mentioning it. I'm not opposed to some kinds of naked pictures but the words take care of that to begin with.

I'm sure the heinous empires of Rockefeller and Rothschild, along with all those other names, so well known to some of us, would have long ago met their well deserved fates at the hands of the mob; possibly even at the hands of a creative, patient and fiendishly ingenious mob, except for the magic powers they wield that keep their lizard skinned bodies intact. It doesn't take a whole lot of inquiry and imagination to figure out they have the protection of certain entities, brought forth by bloody rites and rituals of human sacrifice; small children preferred, to maintain their diabolical activities. Most of this is low end shit but we live in a low end Yuga so, that all makes sense. Every member of the walking wounded, probably knows by now that Wall Street and The City are a cancer as great as anything Fukushima might deliver and that they run the governments and that whatever the governments have been doing to them, comes at the order of these demon cabals.

It would have never gotten this far if so many people hadn't wanted to become lawyers in their employ; hired guns for their protection, doctors in the service of disease, scientists in the service of plague, eugenics and euthanasia, office workers who produce and ferry all manner of official paper for the promise of a particular paper, confinement specialists who would rather be out than in, even though their confinement is just defined in another way. It wouldn't have gotten this far, if most of the entertainers, artists, writers, musicians and self-deluded victims of bad inspiration, hadn't decided the best career move was to sell out the promise of everything they might have been and done, for a corporate tattoo on their ass, which they can display to the world during their moments of buggery and bacchanalia, in the ultimate public, performance art that all of this leads to.

There's nothing like state and culturally sanctioned masturbation that you can do anywhere, at any time, because baby, you have that right and you don't have to worry about drawing a crowd. They will be there and just as turned on as you are. Thousands of cellphone cameras will be clicking, or video taping and ZioTube will be waiting... ♫just anticipating♫ Well, you won't have to worry about 'all the things you never, ever will possess' because.. possession is assured. This is the time of the habitation of demons and everyone gets to be a timeshare or a permanent residence, although the former doesn't actually exist unless you get real fucking lucky. Step right up! Yeah, everybody is a winner. Don't ask why the rings don't go over the bottles or the ball doesn't go into the net. They wouldn't call it a trick if you could see what was happening. What do you know, isn't that Lady Gaga on the carnival speakers? They've all come to see the freaks, well, no worries there, freaks you will have, especially when night falls. She doesn't call them 'little monsters' for nothing, nor will 'little' be the case.

Sure, satire, sarcasm, or terrorism as you prefer. It all becomes something different anyway, when you check into the roach motel at the end of the universe and... you don't have to go any real distance. There's one close by. It's a franchise and that's just what they call it, something like putting the glimmer of romance on your already bought and sold ass. They don't really need to do that, you already gave it up without romance ever entering into the equation ...but while there's still time for you to wake up and get pissed off and still time for you to do something about it, certain forms of crowd control will be employed, even if only inside your head. You should know though that that's not all you're going to get. You do have to remember, they don't do it just for the profit. They do it for the entertainment too. All you need to think about is what you imagine they need, want and require from you in that regard. Well, take a look at the way you came and what happened around you on the way, even if it didn't happen to you yet, even if it didn't get around 'to you' yet.

Read a little history about other times like these and keep in mind that this is the time when they really let all those potentials and appetites loose. You won't have to think too hard about what that means. You won't have to worry too much about waking up or sleeping through it either. There's not nearly as much fun in it for them, unless they can wake you up to be part of the experience; if that is all the awakening you prove capable of.


End Transmission.......

Visible and The Critical List: La Vierge Sperme Danceur by Les Visible and The Critical List♫ Frogman ♫
'Frogman' is track no. 2 of 8 on Visible and The Critical List's 1987 album
'La Vierge Sperme Danceur'

About this song (pops up)

La Vierge Sperme Danceur by Les Visible and The Critical List