You take one down you pass it around, 98 lumps of shit on the wall and... so on and on and on but for some reason the shit still remains; like how there was six million killed and in one location they reduced the number of casualties by more than 3 million and there are still six million. It's sort of like Mickey Mouse hitting the relentless brooms with an axe and there being two where there were once one but he'll get mentioned again because Mickey Mouse sums up the whole affair better than anyone else and Wiley Coyote had better look out but you may be sure he won't because you can't maintain a one pointed fixation on a particular objective and still possess an objective awareness of what's going on around you, unless it will facilitate getting what you want.
Dog Poet Transmitting.......
Oh the Horror! The Horror! There's shit everywhere; walking shit, crawling shit, flying shit, high end shit and low end shit, shit for brains (plenty of that) and shit for lunch, shit apathy and shit entropy and most certainly shit out of luck; no shit- au contraire, there be plenty... plenty not so good and plenty. There's cold shit, warm shit and all of it available in steam pans filled with shit. We're going to be talking about shit today. If you disagree with my term selection, I assure you that I gave it a lot of thought and all I could come up with was... shit. So... pardon me but this really is the best I can do, mostly because this is not the best that so many of the rest can or could do.
It's official, Trump is either a willing or unwilling captive of the Satanic Tribe. He is most assuredly a Shabbos Goy. He has come to the penultimate of the nonsensically trivial and irrelevant of his materialistic waste of space life. You can see him literally jump like a Pinocchio on strings as he herky jerkies out the neo-con talking points, on Russia, on Iran, on Donner and Dixon. I now realize that all the good and courageous agendas that he brought forth were only to appease those deluded fools who saw through hope and change and thought there might still be hope and the possibility of change; before I go any further, let me say that there is most certainly hope and you can count on change, whether you like it or not but very little of general human value is going to be forthcoming from him. He's a sold out and bloated caricature and a poor imitation of someone who was fake to begin with, rather than being the maestro of The Apprentice he is the Sorcerer's Apprentice as personified by Mickey Mouse in Fantasia.
Let us read the words of the prophet before we travel further. Let us reflect on the meaning implicit thereon because it is the absence of reflection on these very tenets that has brought us to such a pass, though we shall not all be continuing on the road to perdition because not all of us are playing 'follow the leader', or were going in that direction in the first place.
Speaking of shit, here is the latest shit mousse, duck shit pâté. It's not babies torn from the incubators -
It doesn't have people being thrown into industrial plastic shredders. What it is is a variation on those themes with murdered infants and raped wives and fantastic details of Pakistan and America working together against the wicked Taliban. This will assuredly tie into the Iranians at some point. Do I lack sympathy for these people? No. I just don't think these people exist.
How about this load of shit from that center of all things perverse and twisted... Toronto, where Normal is about to be criminalized because it is owned from the top down by the same people that own Trump.
I love reading the bio's of people who feed off of the fly blown shit heap of the entertainment industry; pay special attention to Hayley McGowan's. I especially like the comments that come around indicating the intelligence level of the people who patronize the people who feed off of the shit heap of the entertainment business. I am amazed at the cluelessness of celebrities and their shameless glomming on to anything that will hopefully, possibly (fuck! I'm desperate) elevate them out of their D-list celebrity status. Even if it means fabricating a meaningless drama out of nothing because we all have a Harvey Weinstein story somewhere, even if it is only in our imagination. Some of us, however, need a Harvey Weinstein story like we need to draw breath if we are under water too long. It appears there are so very many of them. If you know much about Gwyneth Paltrow's real life you would have most likely, like myself, broken out into laughter at her version of Rashomon. Let the piling on begin.
I'm not defending Harvey. I've known about Harvey for some time and I'm not a fan but... the level of sanctimony and self righteousness that is going on is staggering. Most of these people are people who would do and have done ANYTHING to get where they are, or were ...but now? Heh heh... the outrage is comical. Hollywood is chock full of perversities far beyond anything Harvey has gotten up to in that specific manner. It's possible he's up to other things in other areas that I am not informed about. Anyway... it's all shit; miles wide and miles deep and... it's flammable but ultimately, that's a good thing.
My friends, I am not pleased with myself for writing this. Surely I could have come up with something better and you probably already know all about this and don't need to hear more but for several days, all I have run into is shit... they've got that big industrial 3-D printer going 24/7 and pumping out lie after lie after lie and the reason is that their reality is fraying at the edges and they know it. They can't do anything about it either. Mr. Apocalypse is real and his manner of action is one of degrees. He's not what he was previously when he was setting the stage. He was setting the stage so that he could come on stage and once he comes on stage, it's a whole new ballgame and then there is a new series of degrees and you won't have to worry about missing any of it because it will be going on right in front of you as it intensifies. I take no pleasure in any of this. I am neither in anticipation or apprehension. There's nothing one can do about it.
It is no accident that a man of Trump's farcical stature is where he is. It's no accident that so much polarization is taking place. It's no accident that such a epic storm of flies are swarming around the shit. It's no accident that cellphones are everywhere and that the masses are attached to them as if their life depended on them and in many cases their lives have been lost as a result and technology is rapidly approaching a state where the world is soon to be transformed in more areas than one can catalog.
It is no accident that it has become a joke but it is not something that is funny. It is tragic-comic and very sad and it is right there, being defined and defining itself and for some reason, the present level of human awareness does not allow for a deeper scrutiny and so... we have cellphones. They are the total surrogate. They are Linus's blanket. They are like layers of fat that insulate one from feeling because of all the alienation and loneliness and shame and disgust... the self loathing that one holds tighter and tighter as an affirmation of identity that is a fabrication built out of nothing at all.
9/11 was and is a composite of ridiculous presumptions that no rational mind could entertain. Sandy Hook and Las Vegas, transsexual children, mind-numbing television, The agony of want in the face of conspicuous excess. You can spend as much as $300,000 on a car stereo. You can spend a million on a single home speaker. Any search engine will give you the details. I don't think you need anymore links. I could list for you one absurdity after another of what the very rich spend their money on while a good portion of the world is hungry. Whenever the world gets out of balance and those who have far too much have even more than that and those with too little compose such a number, cosmic forces are automatically set into action. I just heard, “chase down your passion” and “life is as big as you make it”. The announcer was talking about Budweiser. Yes, the baseball playoffs are on and even being aware of what I am aware of, I am not immune to pedestrian entertainments. I tried living in remote isolation and I literally was not allowed to. I've learned through painful experience to rely on the ineffable for everything and I have no choice anyway and if I think I do I will be shown otherwise.
Sometimes we can aspire and achieve and sometimes we would profit more by doing what is expected of us and by some means we are informed as to what that is if we pay attention... or failing that, have it impressed upon us.
I'm sorry I had to talk about shit today. I really do apologize for that. It's just what came up and tomorrow or the next day it will be different. I didn't even include some of the most glaring examples that I came across. Suffice to say that lacking as we are in more examples of it here, I have seen a whole lot of shit recently (grin). However, the problem is perhaps with my own vision for I have seen many beautiful examples as well and I see them daily in my personal life; thank god!
The point we have been trying to make, albeit ineffectually, is that the time is truly at hand for us to consider what is important to us. It is time to reflect upon the course we have taken and give serious thought to what that implies. It is time to reach with a burning desire for the one who is in possession of the fate of all life. It is my belief, my firm and certain belief, that in this time there is a miraculous potential for spiritual growth and advancement on the path. I fully intend to rededicate myself in every moment that I am fortunate enough to remember to do so and place my life in the capable hands of the everlasting lover of us all.
End Transmission.......
What the heck... let's bring a touch of beauty in with one more of Timothy Raab's photos-
10 comments:
Mr. Visible, have you come across the work of John Lash Lamb? His main book is 'Not in His Image' https://www.amazon.com/Not-His-Image-Gnostic-Ecology/dp/193149892X
He also identifies the people who cause most of our problems as strongly as you do.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IH9_1Cvk7Cs
I think you would pass each other's tests.
Mr. Apocalypse meet Sophia's Correction.
Someone was trying to bring us together a few years ago. I was offered the job of caring for his library somewhere in the UK (I think). I didn't follow up on it. Apparently he's got quite the library if there is a need for someone to manage it.
Well... A most unusual Petri Dish. I guess one has to scream occasionally, in this world.
I saw that 'Shabbos Goy' column over at The Saker; he is just as dumbfounded over Trump as anyone. The Saker recently started using a Russian term for the American political apparatus: Not Agreement Capable:
"The Russians ... openly began saying that the Americans were 'недоговороспособны'. What that word means is literally 'not-agreement-capable' or unable to make and then abide by an agreement. While polite, this expression is also extremely strong as it implies not so much a deliberate deception as the lack of the very ability to make a deal and abide by it. ...to say that a nuclear world superpower is 'not-agreement-capable' is a terrible and extreme diagnostic. It basically means that the Americans have gone crazy and lost the very ability to make any kind of deal. Again, a government which breaks its promises or tries to deceive but who, at least in theory, remains capable of sticking to an agreement would not be described as 'not-agreement-capable'. That expression is only used to describe an entity which does not even have the skillset needed to negotiate and stick to an agreement in its political toolkit. This is an absolutely devastating diagnostic."
Mr. Apocalypse is strutting his stuff...
Best Wishes,
Ray B.
That was very well put.
because of all the alienation and loneliness and shame and disgust... Thus spake V.
It's uncleanness. Here's a curious thing:
Lev 15:16
And if any man's seed of copulation go out from him, then he shall wash all his flesh in water, and be unclean until the even.
alienation, loneliness, shame and disgust is how I feel after sex. It's their duty to their father to exploit our weaknesses, so that the tail will be the head and the head the tail, as told in Deut 28. Spooky, that one. Anyhoo, is anything more overrated than sex? It withers a guy's balls, literally and figuratively. We have a whole world of these limpwristed metrosexuals, making buffoons of themselves for women. God made Adam her head. I submit for your approval: Has she not lost her head?
I figure if nature wants you issuing seed, and you're not doing it, nature will up the ante, and make you more attractive to the opposite sex. A 15 and a half year old virgin on AOL, saying she was 16, got me thinking about this. She had a glow that would make a bozo swoon. You might hear her energy field crackle when she walked by. She might arc! It's that true virtuous sexiness that gets ridiculed by the rechabites of 1 Chr 2:55. Go to the roots of those tribe names in 1 Chr 2:55 and see how they function together. Loud speech, censorship and monopolies. Same shit, different millennia.
Greetings. Yes, Toronto can be a shit storm. The link you provided regarding Toronto features a one Kang Lee. Of course it does. What does Toronto feel like at times?
It feels like hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait for that subway that only makes you late for a job you can't stand serving people you're not allowed to hate.
A buddy and I will sometimes take our voices to an open mic night. One guitar and one piano...
"When the night shows the signals grow on radios.
All the strange things, they come and go, as early warnings.
Stranded starfish have no place to hide, still waiting for the swollen Easter tide.
There's no point in direction, we cannot even choose a side.
I took the old track, the hollow shoulder across the waters.
On the tall cliffs, they were getting older, sons and daughters.
The jaded underworld was riding high.
Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky
And as the nail sunk in the cloud, the rain was warm and soaked the crowd.
Lord, here comes the flood.
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood.
If again the seas are silent, and any still alive, it'll be those who gave their island to survive.
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.
When the flood calls, you have no home, you have no walls.
In the thunder crash, you're a thousand minds within a flash.
Don't be afraid to cry at what you see.
The actors gone, there's only you and me.
And if we break before the dawn, they'll use up what we used to be.
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry."
-Peter Gabriel
Hyya all,
Try to not comment on the comments, but in the spirit of "what's the deal?" that
was extremely well translated!
memyselfnie
Very well said, Vis. Many years ago I was a drummer in a rock and roll band with my then best friend who played bass. He belongs to the Tribe on his father's side. He married a millionaire's daughter he met in college, a lovely, slim, blue-eyed blonde WASP. After a point he tapped into her and her father's money to start a high tech media business in NYC with the Tribesman who managed our last band together. The business took off like a rocket. As soon as he became rich, he arbitrarily cut contact with me and the other few, close friends of his youth while divorcing his wife. Then he muscled his partner, who was the true founder of the company, out of the business taking complete ownership of it. He is stupendously wealthy, limousines everywhere, private planes flying him to luxury villas all over the globe, mansions, etc. etc. Due to an unusual circumstance, he called me about 6 years ago, 27 years after breaking contact. After a few calls and emails he broke it again. The reason I bring this up is because I'll never forget what he said during that first phone conversation after so many years. Quote/paraphrase : "In my business, I've met countless celebrities and celebrity wannabes over the years of both sexes. One thing they all have in common is that they will do anything, and I mean anything, for celebrity fame and fortune. Without hesitation they would pimp their mothers, sisters, and daughters into prostitution and sex slavery. They would willingly be filmed having sex with quadraped animals. They are all too willing to sell themselves literally, regardless of the price they have to pay." I would bet my right arm on a chopping block that these fine looking angels complaining about old Harvey did not offer more than token resistance to his advances if any at all. Self righteous, hypocritical scum. When ancient Rome was at its peak, the grand patrician families who ruled it considered actors and actresses to be the scum of the earth, as low as prostitutes, which most of them were as well. Now, the brain dead masses deify them. Go figure. Hereticdrummer (please send follow-up comments to johnedbunker@yahoo.com Thank you)
Like. (Nostrils up.)
You called it Vis, Me. Apocalypse kicking ass and taking numbers
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