Monday, May 14, 2018

Hanging Upside Down and Bat Shit Crazy in Soft Stool Guano Land.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

The treacle and saccharine sludge just keep sliding down the dirty walls of a decaying culture. The lies, the lies, the lies. In the world of American politics, the degree of loathsome cannot be measured. The bars that mark the descent are all below ground. Turn over any rock and you find another Gila Monster. John McCain is such a character. Now the crocodiles weep in the alley behind the Chinese restaurant, break dancing with the dumpster rats. For years we have seen him posing with terrorists and backing mass murder throughout the Middle East. Many people do not like him. His trail of toxic fewmets stretches back over the horizon. Now you can go back and read the slavish puff piece in the first link, AFTER you've seen his photo opp here.


Mr. Apocalypse strides across the landscape in his long black coat. He taps at the macadam with his gnarled cane, atop which sits a cobra with expanded hood and ruby eyes. Is it an illusion, the sound of hissing, like air escaping from a tire? The cobra seems to be annoyed. Cobras are incensed at lies. They sit in a rank of seven over the head of the enlightened, whose Kundalini has taken the internal elevator to the penthouse of consciousness. They protect him/her.

Naked greed is not pretty. Jeff Bezos could end the homelessness problem in Seattle with his pocket change. Instead? Read the article. Last year, a hundred and sixty nine people died from exposure on the streets of Seattle. Seattle has over 11,500 homeless people. This is largely due to the huge increase in rents. People cannot make enough money to pay for a place to live. It's the Silicon Valley flu that is rendering the Pacific Northwest uninhabitable except for rich people. For shame.

Many strange things are afoot as Mr. Apocalypse walks along the periphery and between the parameters of madness. Imagine something like this, right out there in the broad daylight. Wow!

Every day there is a new term for the expanding and intricate nature of sexual dysfunction. The language and concerns of the people in the article is bizarre to say the least; “I’m pear-shaped. I’ve got a tummy, man-titties and a big squishy butt. I also have a nice haircut, a clean face and a nice smile.” How wonderful for you. The future is in free fall, even though it never arrives. It is an interesting feature of time that very few people see and that is that the moment we are in is the only place we can ever be. There is only now and ever will be. Strange things happen to people who can sink into the moment. The moment has a trick feature where it expands and expands, until the sensation is as if the waterfall of eternity were pouring through it.

There is no past. There is only the mind reaching behind. There is no future. There is only the mind reaching ahead. Most everyone lives in a fantasy world of manufactured, imaginary time zones. When you are young you live in the future and when you get older you live in the past. There is projection and reflection and it has the atmosphere of a dream. It is dreamlike. Like a movie playing on the mind-screen. It just goes by and eventually you wonder where it went and did it happen? The wheel of fire turns endlessly. It is the fire of desire and it flows from one life to the next.

What takes place in my heart and mind cannot be spoken of. Informed people have known this for centuries. Meher Baba let his silence speak for him. He said that the day would come when he would speak one word but... he never did. I remember the “Don't worry, be happy” posters that were all over San Francisco back in the day. I remember the promise and hope of those times. Then Death Disco came in the 70's. Greed is good came in the 80's. Grunge and junkie music came in the 90's, along with rap and a plethora of designer drugs. Materialism swallowed the world. It's an endless line of perfect asses with beads of water glistening on them; spreadeagled on a car, holding a glass of liquor, falling down in the cross walk in ankle breaker, Jimmy Choo Shoes, while texting the Easter Bunny. I am fascinated by cell phone culture. It is some kind of resonant hypnotics that links millions on an invisible web of radiant darkness.

Hours and days go by and the air is filled with the sounds of billions of fingers thumb-humping the cellphones. For some reason I am immune. I don't know why that is but I am not alone in this regard. Under this cover of poisonous darkness, terrible messages are being radiated from coning towers that look like something out of War of the Worlds.

Once again, there are no words to express the sense of what I get from the raging epidemic of cellphone crazy. It's some kind of zombie thing. It is automatically unconscious and reflexive. It is as surely an addiction as anything injected with a needle. I watch them, hours and days go by. Young girls race down crowded streets at 35 miles an hour, texting with both hands and seeing nothing but the phone screen. From our front porch in Ocean City I could watch this scene repeat endlessly. The hairs would stand up on the back of my neck. They didn't look down the cross streets. They just blazed right through them. The attitude of some of the culprits are truly special.

They think it is amusing.

I can't understand why.

Here is a classic fail; what can you say about something like this?

One last example of batshit crazy:

This all brings me to the point that has been rotating in my head and which I think is the answer to why this accelerating insanity is taking place and is going to become more and more extreme with a plague of mass shootings and suicides attendant. Materialism is incipient and then logarithmic, exponential insanity. There is no cure except for the dissolution of the construct and this is why cultures fail and disappear. It doesn't have to be cellphones. It can be whatever the combinations of crazy are. Warfare is a constant in the process of materialism. The disparities between rich and poor are a constant. In America where materialism is in its most intense and pervasive state, the culture turns into a prison planet and the profit driven private prison industry demands an ever increasing number of convicts. In times of material darkness, crime is rampant. Race wars are fomented and sexual perversity is off the charts and the singular and most important news items of the day. Materialism is a Bermuda Triangle like whirlpool of madness.

You are in it. It is up close. It surrounds you and you can't see it. Most crazy people do not know that they are crazy. As materialism increases crazy becomes the new sane. No one notices it because it happens incrementally. It is a step by step pirouette off the cliff. Surely from Point A to point S, one can see the evidence of the progression but those being driven crazy only see the individual passage from one point to the next. One day they are 'there' but they don't know how they got there. At first it was just a neighborhood street. One walks up or down it through a familiar landscape. Then, like a video game one suddenly sees that they are in twisted nightmare of unfamiliar places. A couple of days ago they were walking down Lexington Avenue. Now they are in East St. Louis. How did it happen?

I am constantly reminded of the poem by Yeats, “The Second Coming” I know that for most people, being inside the material bubble, being rocked to sleep (grin) by commercials and redundant deus ex machina, filled with crotch cutting jeans and tuna fish brains who, in seeking escape swim ever deeper into the mix, as if darkness were some intimation of safety; 'If I can't see them then they can't see me in that place where everything is done in Braille with Helen Keller curb feelers.

Slowly and deliberately they render their celebrities, more and more stupid, looking for a genuine reflection of the public, Jennifer Lawrence watching the Kardashians. There's an epiphany in there somewhere, reversed on itself, instead of an awakening, simply a deeper sleep; 'miles to go and promises to keep' Somewhere in the alcoholic night of corruption and despair, only to find there's no there there.

It has to be that underneath all the hype and depravity, something marvelous is percolating and in an instant, all at once, the grand awakening takes place and the desperadoes are caught flatfooted. There is a roar and a rising like a stadium wave and the dawn of simultaneous recognition rivets every soul in place. It can't be undone. They never saw it coming, as their minds were fixed on looting and rape. God rose up in every set of eyes; some with redemption and some with disgrace; to each according to his need in that place where intention defines us all... some strange mixture of fire and ice.

End Transmission.......

You Wanna Dance?

Monday, May 7, 2018

Kanye West gets Ready for his Rodan's Thinker Moment. Do I shit or do I go Blind?

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

I was sitting in a restaurant with a contemporary master; someone that a few thousands believe is an enlightened being. An ex-girlfriend of mine was there and a few others. We were having lunch at “The Fish Market” restaurant in Paia, Maui. It's a fantastic place to eat and I see where they now have 3 of them on the island. We were talking and I made a few comments about something or other and then I had to leave; I had business elsewhere. Later that evening I ran into the ex-girlfriend again and she said that the contemporary master said about me, after I left, “You can't bullshit that guy.” That was one of the best compliments I have ever gotten and I believe it to be true also because I have been told similar by an even more trustworthy source. This is not to say that there are not areas where I could improve as a human being. Of course there are.

In the spirit of having just said all of that, let me bring your attention to this piece of odious excrement of shaped news, cherry picked as support for an alarming trend that I have been noticing in recent times- over the last several years. One of the biggest drawbacks to a tool like Logic is that you can use it to prove anything you want to prove through calculated argument, through serendipitous inclusion and omission. The same could be said about Reason, which happens to be a divine archetype; when it is exercised by divine consciousness but which can be as flawed as the mind employing it also.

I'm not here to seek to antagonize yet one more New Age portal, which has this to say about itself. These efforts come and go. For me, I measure all of them by whether they acknowledge the existence of a divine being, or whether they do not and rather indicate that it is we, any one of us, who is or can be the divine being. This automatically and reflexively makes me think of this quote from The Bible; “For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect.

Kanye West is the author of useless pieces of superficial shit like this:

“Yo!” He is the author of sophomoric, pedestrian and sexually gratuitous crap like this.

I would shoot myself if I could not, off the top of my head do better, without even thinking about it; not to mention all the Vocorder and other FX VST plugin, voice morphing, techniques. You need all that when you have no creativity whatsoever. I'm not here to argue with anyone about whether or not Kanye is a sold out Satanist. That is beyond debate, he said he sold his soul to the devil.

What I am here to say is that the Prince of Darkness has big plans for this blockhead. If you go to Youtube or any other portal where the sludge and sleaze of this time of material darkness is the present entertainment for knuckleheads and tards, you will find Kanye being defended from EVERY direction. It would be one thing if his art had ANY redeeming merit at all but... it has none. Here is an example of one of the few actually 'gifted' and 'inspired' rap-artists. You've probably never even heard about him. Compare what bankrupt- troubled in his skin, Kanye has to say by comparison.

I don't suppose I have to throw in his arranged marriage with the Kardashian segment of the infernal realm? No... she's not the whore of Babylon. She Princess, Stupid Fresh and there will be some number of Disney movies that feature her. This is the inspiration zone for butt enlargement as a spiritual necessity. This is the source of which we get Bruce Jenner decathaloning his way into the perverse feminine. I won't bring up O.J. Simpson (oops, I did.) or get any deeper into that snake-pit of Lost Angels that Beelzebub is sitting on top of while being anally pleasured on a Sybian.

I tried to find something comic from the reservoir such things.

He's running for president in 2020. Do you not suppose that every tamed and lame news outlet will soft pitch everything he says? If Trump can become president can't anyone with enough money and influence do the same? Now they are gearing this thing up, clusterfuck-perfect storm style. The Liberals are drooling over their possibilities of advancement in the land of the knucklehead tards. So the right wing is now comin atcha with the same soup, different piss (if we whip it real hard will it marmalade?). I'm NOT buying any of this. You can't sell me a black Soupy Sales with a Captain Kangaroo hat because there is no hat AND no cattle. There is rather a troglodyte riding an ostrich.

Let me say in yet another way, something I've said, time and again. There is one God and one power. I don't care what name you give it. It can be raw and primitive and it can be sublime beyond the reach of the senses you don't yet have to experience it. It's the same thing. In my mind I have a holographic dinner plate, round table- pick your own image. It has a reading range that runs around the curve like a gas stove counter-top. As you turn the dial, there are all kinds little hats that pop up and celebrate -and it can range in color from shades of red to blue to white, in the red zone is the devil of details, deception, disorder and industry. The rest are degrees of the divine. A person runs their life through the color coordinates of what they find attractive and they get the follow-up, or end result that they have invested in and imagined into being. Sometimes we are happy with the course we took and sometimes we are not. Reincarnation is the process whereby we discover what is and is not meaningful, important and of value to us. Best case scenario is that you leave a blueprint that might inspire others to apply as a map.

You can't go out there and grab them by the shoulder. They're on a mission to nowhere and it is as important as all get out. Learn unbearable compassion. Step aside and let the gruesome evidence reveal what has ever been the case in every case, on a case by case basis.

I don't know Kanye. I have observed him. He has this cheer-leading squad of Nimrods and handlers who groove his passage. His work is shit. Perhaps my critical facility is skewered. Go look at the links to his productions, I won't call it music. Dig deeper into the body of his work. If you find something, you can send it to me but as of the moment, my take is that this clueless robotron is being formed and shaped for purposes that are in progress. The wheels are greased. The smoke machine is working overtime.

What is this shit? In the middle there's four or five minutes of jerky camera action, people breathing and snoring and boring!!! Maybe I just don't get it. I know what it looks like to me and I got no use for it and can't imagine what would have to be resident in the mind that would celebrate this garbage as art. It's like a used tampon in a cup of tea on a table in the Museum of Modern Art. Someone got it put there. Why they did it? I can guess. It's not something that is going to echo down the corridors of time, not unless you are doing time in a place where it gets screened on the steel walls of your cage, whether you like it or not. “Here's that Pizza from Hell that you ordered, Visible. It's got the smoked hog nostrils sliced real thin, just the way you like them.” Mr. Visible doesn't do pork-

I don't avoid pork because of trichinosis or whatever the religious prohibitions are. I don't want pig in my body, if you are what you eat. The usual snowflake-precious, social justice tards are all about humanizing pigs.

(The comments section here is hysterical.) They're really smart! They're clean and friendly! Hah. If you fall down in a pigpen they will eat you. A cow won't do that. I don't eat cows either. There are states of being that are going on this very moment that are unpleasant and hard to watch and worse. In this Kali Yuga, with Mr. Apocalypse and his walking stick, all bets are off. Everything could have gone another way for awhile but it's different now. I would not want to be a suit at this time. I would not want to be in a compromised profession, most especially those professions that deal with, or do supply and demand, with human loss and pain, with human grief and suffering. There ain't no easy way out and that is why in these times you are going to see evil turning on evil. You are going to see people running for the disinfecting sunlight.

The time to get ready has always been now; yesterday even. You are free to make up your own mind about Kanye. I subscribe to several principles. I'll list just two; “by their works ye shall know them.” and... if it walks like a duck and it talks like a duck, it's probably a duck, or in Kanye's case; a deer in the headlights.

End Transmission.......

Does anyone know an entertainment/copyright lawyer?

I want to recommend a couple of books. My good friend, William Crowell, sent me a copy of the Empire of the Summer Moon. If you thought you understood the Native American thing, this could be an eye-opener. Also, we have a large collection of a certain kind of book/anthology-something something. From that collection I have been reading The Mammoth Book of Oddities. That will really give you some perspective on what goes down and has gone down, the world over... in various places and times. History is not the glorious march you thought it was.

Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Allemande Left as you Do see Do with the Rabid Rodeo Clowns in Search of The Real.

Dog Poet Transmitting........

The Satanic Celebrity Cult of the times is unlike anything I have ever seen in life, or in any record of life from any time. You would probably be amazed by the news that Kim Kardashian has over a hundred million followers. Right up there with her is Kylie Jenner, Selena Gomez, Ariana Grande, Beyonce and some soccer player. All of them are beta kittens. Kim is the most high profile example of someone who is famous for being famous and not for any talent, because she has none whatsoever, except for the ability to market a sex tape, created for that very purpose; just as Kanye came out of nowhere, once the infernal architect had finished with Jay-Z.

It is profoundly disturbing but you don't notice it because it arrived, step by step. It kept rounding the corner, so you didn't see what led up to that moment of present observation. All of the flickering image morphing was somewhere out of sight; back there somewhere. You had no lineage or context.

Dr. Phil is one of the most vacuous, sold out and highly paid hacks the world has ever seen. He gets somewhere around 100 million dollars a year. I think it is closer to 70 million. It's a lot of money. There is controversy aplenty about this fellow. He is the classic example of 'water off a duck's back'. As you note... he is arms around the shoulder of the Hollywood Psychic Fraud. There is some kind of deliberate programming going on behind the scenes, as one more transparent hack after the other; a mile wide and an inch deep, leaps to the forefront, like Sponge Bob Square Pant's jock strop. You might be amazed to see that Sponge Bob is now a hit Broadway musical with awards up the wazoo.

You might well wonder how it is that such a weird vehicle could be such a big critical and commercial success. The truth of the matter explains it clearly. It's a GAY thing. Broadway, most aspects of the entertainment industry and the general trend of the culture, is all gay-centric and gay themed. It is an incremental, step by step procession of sub-belladonna frottage. For those who may not have been paying attention; sub-belladonna is a play on words, taken from sub-rosa.

Once again... if you look in any direction, from the education system, to any other system of endeavor, you see that the sexual identity of 'the individual' is being recast and remodeled from a heterosexual family unit, building block of society, to a 'stranger in a strange land'- Valentine Michael Smith, Charlie Manson on Quaalude's, Rainbow Family, blurred disco dance of ♫rock the boat, please rock the boat over♫- and drown the passengers template of square pegs going into round holes. It is so 'in your face' that you can't see the forest for the trees. Meanwhile you hear screams of patriarchy, white privilege yadda yadda. I don't know if this is true across the board. As a matter of fact, I know it is not true across the board. It is selectively true. In tandem with this is a root level changing of the language. Let's step back to the meaning of the name, Adam. It is 'namer of things'.

Because I am watching the basketball playoffs (three times a year, I watch one of the 3 playoffs for the 3 major sports) I get to see the commercial breaks- should I choose to do so... and I do choose, because I am curious as to what is going on and I note, one theme is predominant throughout. The American public is being shown as being increasingly STUPID. I am not asking you to go and watch these sequenced abortions for my benefit. I want you to see it for your benefit, because having the clear light of a disturbing morning, in the aftermath of a forgotten night before, can sometimes show you, brutally, without makeup or airbrushing, just what is happening to you and... if not to you, then to the world around you, which puts you in a tight vice of 'you who sees' and 'they who do not.'

This Ring Pass Not gulf, that even Evil Knievel knows better than to attempt, should tell you that all effort on your part in the manifest, to torture the perceptible aspects of the manifest, WILL end in failure. That is the realm of the Prince of Darkness. Your job is to find yourself here and get out of here, not to dally about and jockey for position, as if that mattered in any way, except for a bad place in the pecking order.

My friends, we have talked a time or two over these last 17 years or so, trying to find a communicating parity between us; as if we understood each other and sometimes it looks and feels as if we do. The one thing that has shown itself, front row center to me, is that we love each other. We forgive oversights and the projections of a compromised imagination, controlled by this fabricated world, at the mercy of the ringmaster, whose identity is not unlike the lidless eye, in the tower, at the empty heart of Mordor.

Where was I? For some number of years now, I've been talking to you and you have been talking back; most of it has been measured and circumspect. We've been polite and there is evidence we really do love each other. This came about from an increasing sanctuary of trust, where Love, as ever, is the paramount expression of the deepest portion of ourselves, expressed in the most concentrated fashion. Were I in a position to make any of this lasting, past all potential criticism, which is only one perspective, isolated in its singular position, as compared to a completely different perspective; all of them are limited, isolated, cut off from the whole. When one gets the whole, the individual is absorbed in the whole and can then act through every aperture and window, in all the variations sunlight is heir to. When you are the whole, no medium is denied you.

All of them are a waste of time because all of them exist within fixed parameters that have no linking interplay between one perspective and every other point on the wheel ...because, no matter where you are specifically trapped in a specific limitation, it is only when every point on the wheel is looking into the self realizing center that one gets the whole of it and understands the meaning of gestalt; not implying that I do. What I KNOW, usually comes about by seeing everything at the same time and having the profundity of my ignorance shown to me in ways that no one wants to see but that everyone is duty bound and karma bound to see, whether your approach is a seeming good or a seeming evil, it's beyond those comparatives where one finally gets a clue (we hope).

The celebrity cult of the moment is a relentless embarrassment of pants down in the middle of a crowd. The laughter is all silent face changes because the mute button got hit. It is the dancers at the Overlook Hotel again. It is the deaf vacuum where the ear drums were broken by the explosion. It is the effort to both hear and not hear, to see and not see, to be and not be, in a world where Zen hit the exits long before the Cliff Notes got published. I'm guessing this is for Dummies.

I don't know what to tell you. I only know what I perceive on the bandwidth of a limited sensory line. Is it a line or is it just a great many periods pressed together to make a line? It is but it is not. It is not but yet it is.

In this enclosed corral of rabid rodeo clowns, who chases who is based on which one is possessed by a greater insanity. Like they say, it's not the size of the dog in the fight. It's the size of the fight in the dog. Nothing really makes sense here. You know with dogs it comes down to home field advantage. You know with humans it comes down to the greater concentration of truth. Truth is the stronger force by comparison with anything because truth speaks to the degree of which is the greater concentration of The Real.

In the end, when all the stages have been broken down and where all environments have been rolled up like rugs and stacked against the wall, only The Real remains and it is only from The Real that every following drama, real or unreal, is able to unravel into one more following wave from the sea to the shore... pounding down upon the white particulate sand that was once a coral reef; that is what is left of the cultures long gone. That is what the coming attractions say about the cultures yet to come.

Hopefully this made sense because... objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.

End Transmission.......