Dog Poet Transmitting.......
May your noses always be cold and wet.
I thought that hockey stick thing had slipped out of town ♫Round midnight♫ some while ago but... here is one of our times supreme bubbleheads, telling it like it isn't and definitely not inclined to ♫Let your conscience be your guide♫ The Shitstream Media just keeps cranking it out. They're coming with both barrels in this 'no shortage of irony', Halloween Election season. Global Warming, what there is of it, is most certainly caused by all their hot air and political brain farts. They admit to something and then and they debunk it; nah, nothing to see here, no conspiracy, even though conspiracy is the mainframe system ...and the crumbling infrastructure of our culture, which, appropriately, belongs on a Petri Dish, rather than anywhere else. Sane researchers use microscopes and rubber gloves; “Please turn your head and cough”.
There are a lot of epidemics going on, which befits Kali Yuga. Some of these epidemics, are truly psychotic. When they don't want to mention what the weapon was, you know it's not a gun. I'm guessing it might have been a spatula. There are a number of epidemics seething and festering in the dark underbelly of these times. The acid reflux is heating up. I always knew that all those guns was a recipe for disaster. I recognize the need for guns, given who already has guns and doesn't want the rest of us to have guns. I also recognize what can happen when the residents of Nutjob Central, finally, completely, buy into life as a video game and have the needed economic and social reasons for reaction, given the physics of a rock and a hard place. The madness and absurdity, are reaching all time highs. It's gotten to the point that one might find themselves weeping and laughing at the same time. You've seen this before and you will note that both of these dishonorable mentions, are examples of Crown Colony Syndrome, manifesting out of the heart of The Black Nobility.
No doubt some sector of the readership gets annoyed at me for bringing up the same tired mindfucks day after day, like who did 9/11. I've got very good reasons for all of this. The primary reason is that 'they' do not cease and desist from their programs of perversion, oppression and extermination. I couldn't care less what people do sexually with one another. My concern is with the depraved, social engineering that any fool can see is taking place. If you can't, or don't want to see it, then that is all the more reason for me to hammer on all of it by the day after day. A record has to be made and kept. The truth must be relentlessly brought forth, into the light of each passing day ♫Bang a gong, get it on♫ If this is not the truth that I am presenting then someone will effectively, righteously and irrefutably prove that case here, where a space has been provided for it. If you cannot do this- and YOU CANNOT DO THIS- then I need no further justification, imprimatur or authorization, for saying these things over and over and over. Until such crowds gather, to shout down and shut down, these twisted, murderous freaks, this work will continue.
These freaks of darkness are remorseless and unrepentant in their ways. The 'in your face' upchuck garbage, is egregious enough to gag a maggot. The Great Unwashed just bounce off the walls, stoned and dreaming about late night, Burger Kings and Pizza Sluts, made attractive, like all those gray cats in the night ...by cold packs of Pabst Blue Ribbon, or a bad Chianti. Late night in the bar, round 2:00 AM, is when all the sweat-hogs turn into beauty pageant winners. That's followed by that morning after, when your eyes first open and you think to yourself, “Oh no, what did I do last night"? You're turned on your side and are facing the wall. Somehow you know there is someone else on the other side of you but you're too scared to look. The porcelain throne is calling out for the worshiper, to come to the altar and give up the elements of the previous night's debauchery. You can't drink or smoke your way out of this, people ♫Darkness at the break of noon♫ It might be noon. That's not good news either. ♫Strange days have found us♫
Yes, it needs to be said over and over and over and over again, until the rolling combers of the sea, echo it with each crash upon the shore, until the wind whispers and howls it, with it's every passage, until the plants bring it forth, in their blossoms and leaves, until the animals repeat it, in their varieties of speech, until it is present in every groan of the Earth, until the Earth gives up the dead and they repeat it.
These are days of ubiquitous zombie movies and there is no coincidence in that. These are the days when the ingredients labels on processed foods have over 60 letters in their names. These are the days my friends and ♫Those were the days my friend. We thought they'd never end♫ I remember some years earlier, when an African insurgent leader took over a country and marched all of the leaders of the previous regime, into a soccer stadium and had them machine gunned, while that song was playing over the sound system. There have been any number of things like this but they get written into the peripheral margins.
There's a certain prophecy that comes out of the Christian tradition. It may be resident in other traditions. It says something about The Devil being loosed on the world for a thousand years. Did that already happen, or is it yet to happen? It's no accident that his primary servants are operating high on the hog and who happens to be their totem animal. Everyone has their reasons for not eating pork and theirs would be singular.
No other religions calls for the death of everyone else. No other religion defines others as cattle and chattel. No other religion has teachings that legitimize the slavery and abuse of others. These are the ambulatory cowpies of The Golden Calf. These are crocodile swine, who consume and devour everything in their path. Am I wrong? I am not wrong. It needs be said. It needs be said because all the cowards among us, have become expert at The Sidestep and The Dosey Do. They don't want to get stains on their costumes. They don't want to get down into the mosh pit of reality. They want to pontificate all around it all and give that cutting edge appearance, while not offending anyone, especially those most offensively offending them. They want 'the rep' and the meal ticket. They don't want to wear any tedious labels. They want that tailored hair and the custom suit. They want that condo and the Corvette. They want to be a player and get themselves on Oprah's Book Club list. Oh well, good luck with that.
A person has to determine where they want their credit to come from and they have to base that determination on what they value. Everybody gets paid in the coin of the realm, where their attractions are based and where their requests can be satisfied. I've made my bed and I'll sail in it. Some people have made their beds and they will lie in it. Some people have dug their graves and whatever applies, applies, until they are called upon to speak. What is taking place is taking place.
I still get people defending this guy. I'm not nearly sure about the author for all kinds of reasons but I'll take the truth where I find it. Sincere conversions can and do occur, no matter how Elmer Gantry people like Benny Hinn might be. No matter how all embracing the Maya Spider Dream Web may be, people do climb out of it. There is no barrier that can stand against relentless determination and certitude ♫with a little help from my friends♫
You ask people about their friends and immediately faces will come into view in their mind. You ask me about my friends and it's a different matter. There may be a few faces, from far and usually invisible locales ...and then there are no faces, just coronas of light. We're defined by our friends and enemies, as much as we are defined by anything. We are defined by our appetites and attractions, as much as we are defined by anything. We look like them and we reflect them. They say “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery”. I say emulation grants you your appearance and I definitely agree that “character is destiny”.
In closing, I will direct you to Patrick W's latest gifting. Hang in there, sooner or later, it all works out.
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