"The Pretentious and The Pretenders Need Each Other... The Way The Cute Girl Needs an Ugly Friend to be Compared With."

God Poet Transmitting.......

Well... it can't be much longer now. The left side of The Media is owned by The Commie Faction, and... the right side of the press is owned by The Neo-Con Faction, and even the left-hand side is losing faith in The Cackling Loon. It's one thing to see an upwardly mobile (some imply... agile) hooker make it to the big leagues in an economic sense, BUT... politically? Yes... they are all whores, but not real-life whores; they just play one on TV. Yeah... I know... they are real whores but this is realer than I think they ever thought it would be.

Some might wonder about the difference between a hack and a whore. Biden was a hack, for instance. Kamala is a whore. The difference is that a hack is a whore who isn't very good at it, but now we get one of those anomalies of a whore... who is not very good... at being a hack. I don't know what her credentials are for her night job. I do know that a prostitute is a whore who is good at what they do. Otherwise, no one is going to pay them. I get confused when I try to talk about stiffing a prostitute because you didn't get what you thought you were paying for.

I seem to have misplaced a double entendre somewhere. If you happen to find it... just drop it in any email server cause my email is tattooed on the back. It will get to me. This is not the first time that it has happened.

Tim Walz went to China 30 times. You read that right... 30 times! It explains all the Somalis. It explains a whole lot of things. Kamala... we know... is also a Commie. So... that's two Commies in a tight proximity to The White House. The Commie Faction owns most of The Press. That explains why all of them are in bed together, and it circles back to the first two paragraphs here; we're going to need a bigger bed!

The Neo-Con Factor is more interested in eliminating those pesky Palestinians. The Left Faction... represents the militant wing of The Palestinian resistance. This is so that no matter what happens... either side... can migrate to the winning side... with plenty of warning. I know that may imply a certain large percentage of hypocrisy, but speaking with a forked tongue goes with the territory.

You have to understand the fundamentals here. Neither side cares in an idealistic sense about Communism... Fascism... left-right or sideways. Both sides care ONLY about the money and control; from either side... one gets the other. It's always better to be on top because can see them coming; whoever that is. If you are approaching from below... then whoever it is that is on top... can see you coming.

It would be right about now that I would begin to mention the inversely proportionate. Fortunately, I am not after money or recognition so... I can bypass that. It's the sort of thing that people who are not Kepler... or Newton... would say to give you the impression they were in the same company. Poseurs and fakirs are always doing this sort of thing, but they need each other. The pretentious and the pretenders need each other... the way the cute girl always needs an ugly friend to be compared with. Still... all cats are gray at night.

The thing about Ugly is that it moves from the inside out. If someone looks ugly... that means it has finally made its way from long concealment... into public view. If someone looks attractive... it just means the ugly hasn't made it to the surface yet. A person's face is their fortune... in a manner of speaking.

Only a few of us look like who or what we really are, and they have the charisma of light that has taken form. The rest of us are identifiable to whoever we are chasing or being chased by and... are invisible to everyone else.

People out of the loop... on the bottom tier... on the run... or facing ruin in every direction are... understandably resentful of everyone who does not have their problems. The people who do not have their problems are still creating the karma that is going to set those same problems in motion later on. You are always at some point on the wheel of the dynamic of cycling return.

When nothing is returning on you besides sunlight and The Glory of God... you have made your way through The Valley of Darkness.

A few of us have stepped out of the noise and confusion. You get to this point when all the things that make noise, and... are otherwise used to confuse you... are no longer of any interest. You can now see the thorns that attend material beauty. You can see the false advertising of the spider on the web. You can see the come hither... the wink and the nod... because you remember what happened when you went up to see her sometime and came back with running sores... or a broken head... an empty wallet... or all three.

This is how you become immune to the lures of the bait and switch. Somehow you have learned that The World is a giant con; an endless come-on. It holds no further attractions for you. Then there's a waiting period where The World makes sure... over and over... that you really... positively... absolutely... do not want whatever it is trying to get you to put your hand (or some other part of your anatomy) in the trap for. The World has to be very sure... before it is willing to let you go.

Finally, you hear a buzzer... or a bell... or a wind chime... and a portal opens before you rimmed in celestial lights... it's the unobstructed way in... to the everlasting Christmas morning of a Norman Rockwell painting... the real Pleasantville. Sometimes it's called Elysian Fields if you are one of the good pagans... or Heaven... if you are not a pagan.

The interesting thing is that once you walk through that portal... you are still here. You have changed, and The World has changed completely because... it is all done with mirrors. Really! It is all done with mirrors... so it's either some degree of smoky... or impossibly bright and beautiful.

You get to carry this around... inside and outside of you... wherever you go... the same way others get to carry gray skies and impending doom. You are either in The Land of Smiles or in The Land of Tears. You might also say The Land of Fear or The Land of Love. What you have... defines what you are. The good news is that you already have it. You don't have to go looking for it. The bad news is that you don't know what it is. How can you find something if you don't know what it is?

When I say you don't have to go looking for it, I mean you don't have to look for it outside of yourself because... you won't find it. Life routinely tricks us on this matter... through the agency of romantic love. Enough time at the well. Enough time falling into the well, and having to climb out... should cure you of that.

Some people just love the merry-go-round. They want to ride all the horses. The horses... or painted ponies... that go up and down. This is supposed to be something for the young and stupid; oh! When I was one and twenty... I heard a wise man say... give crowns and pounds and guineas, but not your heart away. However... it can and does happen at any age. It happens through the ages. It happens round and round The Celestial Clock... until God starts getting ready to go to bed, and everything is burning.

There's no telling how it will go for you or... is there?

That probably requires a whole other post; ♫ maybe tomorrow... maybe someday; you've changed ♫ Oh well... that's why they write the songs... isn't it? Hey! Turn it up! I like that song. Why do you like that song? Why do you like or dislike anything that you like or dislike? This is where people really ought to spend more time in contemplation. This is where... the intrepid make a deep dive... past the knots and tangles that bar the way to self-discovery. It... I mean... You... are right there... on the other side of the protective shield that keeps The Personality in charge.

They have all these sciences that claim to show you the way. What I do is to look at the people who represent these sciences to see if they know what they are talking about because... it's going to be written right there on their faces; been there... done that... over and over enough times to know what I'm looking at. You get especially good at this when you find The Self or... it finds you. It can happen either way.

It's all about glamour. Either you are susceptible or... you are not. There are glue boards that surround all the somethings that are actually nothing.

Sometimes one sees passionately to the core; such is the case with poets and true artists. Sometimes God just gets tired of hanging out... in such a tedious location, and... performs a spiritual version of a mercy fuck on you.

People confuse themselves endlessly through the medium of projection... where they have become convinced that God is just a bigger version of themselves. This is the holding tank... The Green Room with no door... where the truly dangerous and the spiritual retards have to wait until one of The Professionals is free to treat them, and...

... one last thing.

“How arrogant does a person have to be to believe that it’s possible to lose your salvation—but they haven’t?” -Voddie Baucham pic.twitter.com/iJ2wl25AkQ

— ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕁𝕠𝕙𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕟 🎚️ (@cjohnsonn0311) September 2, 2024

Also... here's an Honorable mention.

Gigglin's Island...
👀🎶🤣 pic.twitter.com/JWMzHTdU6a

— C3PMeme (@C3PMeme) September 3, 2024

End Transmission.......

Links are at GAB.