Sunday, September 14, 2014

Nine - Fourteen - Fourteen

So...  Another lovely September day.  Some wispy cirrus clouds in an otherwise blue sky, temperatures in the 70s....  A good cigar burning between my fingers.... 

Anyone with even the slightest bit of awareness knows there is something wrong.  Humanity was not meant to be what it has become.  There is some force pushing us in the wrong direction.

  Call it what you will, its existence cannot be denied, except by idiots and the brainwashed.  Leaders of nations and leaders of religions do not have the best interest of humanity or our home at heart, rather they are interested in manipulation and exploitation for their own selfish ends.  This percolates down to the common man via the programming and conditioning of his mind from early childhood.  People are taught to be greedy, self-centered consumers, useless eaters keeping the big machine running for the benefit of the 1%, livestock and draft animals in abject servitude to the illuminati masters.  In order to break the vicious cycle and break free, one must first become aware of what is happening around them.  Then they must pass this knowledge on to others.

  The more who become aware, the closer we get to the overthrow of the overlords.  You can choose instead to deny the truth, even as it stands before you smacking you in the face, and to go on about your delusions.  That is unfortunate, but the programming is hard to undo.  Throughout history there have been those who try to break the chains, unlock the cages, and set humanity free...  Most of them are killed in a violent manner, often by those whose freedom they are trying to achieve, because the programmed minds are unwilling or unable to admit the truth to themselves.  This is where pride gets in the way, saying, "I'm not an idiot! I couldn't possibly get swindled into believing lies! My church/government/teachers/etc. would never steer me wrong, they are beyond reproach! How dare you insinuate such?! You must be the liar, then!" (Etc, etc, ad infinitum) This is known as belligerent denial.  I have not yet found a sufficient means of smashing that wall of denial and forcing folks to look at the truth, and without some "positive empirical proof", some "concrete evidence" that cannot by its very existence be doubted, I know no way yet of freeing humanity.  I still keep on searching.  Deep within there must be the answer I seek.
There has to be a way to smack even the most belligerent delusional mind awake.  When I find it, all will know.

It's  hard, exceedingly so, not to become jaded.  It's hard not to get angry, anger born of frustration, frustration at the seemingly dimwitted examples of sheeple who aimlessly roam thru life, sometimes speaking opinions which are not truly their own, but rather are what they have been told to believe by some "authority" figure or another.  It's difficult to make myself understand that it mostly isn't their fault, (bless em) that they have been manipulated by outside forces mind-fucking them.  To try and get thru to them is like nailing jello to a tree.  {Goddamn sonofabitch! I coulda fucked a mule!}

I try just to make my peace with The All That Is, simultaneously judging myself harshly for judging others.  I tell myself that everyone and everything is Divine and Sovereign, even those bastards that I hate.  It ain't easy carrying this sack of rocks on my back.

If I had a woman to share my burden, but no.  None of them ever quite understood.  It was always fun for awhile, getting some pussy, but then the arguments would ensue.  Who can be expected to understand the mind and the heart and the soul of a crazy person?  So I carry this sack of rocks alone.

Maybe one day that big black triangle will return, with the cute blonde who speaks to my soul with her eyes.  Maybe she will come and take me away with her.

I know there is a purpose to it all.  There has to be.
Fuck, fuckedy fuck fuck.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Muckin Puckin Motherfuckin Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck

Howdy.  Greetings.  Salutations.  Hello.

It's been a minute.  It is what it is.

When I was twenty, I never suspected that at forty eight I'd be an old, grey-haired, cigar-chomping, miserable fuck.  Yeah.  But here I be. the blogosphere, as it were.  Yeah.

So, what are they doing down in the tunnels?  I don't mean subway tunnels under any given city, either, and I don't mean highway tunnels either.  And when I say they, I mean they, them, the hidden ones, etc.  You know to whom I refer.  Mount Shasta, CA and Dulce, NM... Area 51... Yeah.

The network of tunnels is vast, if what I have been able to investigate is any indication of surface-scratching.  In fact, it's possible that our Mother is not what she appears to be, she may not be a naturally occurring planet at all, but a manufactured one, in essence, a spaceship.  Like the Death Star.  And our Moon as well.  So what I ask is, who resides inside?  What are those little grey anthropomorphic things with the big wraparound eyes?  People use the word "alien" to describe them, but I don't think that is entirely accurate, is it?  The word alien means not from here, from elsewhere, so it could be correct if they are from another planet, or another dimension, or another time.  But what if they are from here?  What if they live underground, like mole men?  It could explain the pasty complexion and the large eyes.  What if they were here before we were?  Maybe the gods created them first, to live in tunnels underground, and mine minerals....  Then they created us to live on the surface and, I don't know, herd aminals maybe, or something else.  Maybe to be the guardians or caretakers of the surface, or to be visible for other races to observe, as opposed to the hidden.  Maybe they created man with the intent of creating a being which is capable of transporting their essence, an avatar thru which they could interface with this world.  But something went awry... Something... A fault in the system, a ghost in the machine, a glitch in the program... Somehow we became sentient on our own, capable of reason, capable of our own volition, our own freewill.

I don't know, man.  There are so many unanswered questions, so many variables, so many unknowns.
Find x.  For 1 to 1gulptillion, x=ae/y ~ EADGBE ;; DADGAD ;; EIEIO (and sometimes w) so find the motherfucker, I triple dog dare you!  And.... yeah.  There it isn't.  Good cigar, though.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, meaning it doesn't have any weed in it.  Maybe tomorrow they'll legalize recreational marijuana consumption nationwide, in which case, a whole nother variable is introduced, and whence hereupon my cigars may contain more than just tobacco, but for this moment, yeah.

Here's a little random video clip:

Irregardless of what a cartoon character may or may not like, It's gotten into the American vulgate and it's a whole nother thing to think you can just make it go away all of the sudden like. Actually, in all actuality, I could care less about it. I could also care more, however, I don't. Webspeak, lolspeak, txtese, and ebonics have all worked their way into the everyday vulgate, which means the language of the people, regular folks, as opposed to suit-wearing yuppy fucks, or English teachers, or other hoity-toity types who walk around with their noses in the air, acting as though their shit doesn't stink. Some of it is just silly, and some of it sounds retarded, such as 'axe' for ask, or the improper usage of there, their, and they're, or your and you're, where, were, and we're, etc. But it's just a reflection of the substandard "education" rampant among products of the regimented, institutional brainwashing and conditioning machine (AKA public school system) in this country. {And presumably in others as well.}
I dropped out of high school in 1982 because I was sick of the rules and the regimented nature of the system. (The scene from Pink Floyd's The Wall with the kids marching into the grinder and coming out as worms comes immediately to mind.) And I had my GED in my hand before my class graduated. I aced a college English class afterward, so I obviously know the proper English, though I choose to use regular construction-site vernacular in my everyday speech, peppered with fuck, motherfuck, shit, goddamn, sumbitch, and other colorful words and phrases, because I feel comfortable speaking that way, and because I can. [Sticks out tongue and thumbs nose at society]
Television is mind-numbing drivel, designed to distract the sheeple from observing the world around them. I suggest reading books. Aldous Huxley's Brave New World is a good place to start.
Peace, y'all.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

You Can't Bite Your Teeth...

...Unless... If you pull them out one at a time, and bite it, but eventually you will run out of teeth, so you most definitely can't bite the last two, so you can't bite them all then, so you can't bite your fuckin teeth. Case closed.

You also can't take a bite out of a redbrick.  Go ahead and try it, I triple dog dare you.  Bite that motherfucker!  ...Ok.  Now that's out of the way,
Where is flight 370 at?  In the ocean?  In a hangar somewhere, getting repainted?  North Korea, maybe?  I'm betting on the Giant Mothership angle myself.  Swallowed up in a nanosecond, like so much space debris.  Picture a blue whale eating a prawn.  That's how a giant mothership would swallow a 777 in flight.  Gulp!
Keep in mind that these ships do not originate in this dimension, and therefore do not obey the same laws of physics.  They can become visible briefly and then vanish, taking whatever/whomever they want back with them to their realm of existence.  They could poof up in lower Manhattan and snatch up Gary Sinise, John Malkovich, David Peel, and Kevin Bacon (because everything is better with Bacon!) and then just quark off in a nanosecond, and the camera might not see anything...  David would fire up a joint for the ride...  Uh, so, where was I at again?  Oh, the giant mothership.  Right.
Yeah, and 239 Chinese folk... Ok, they weren't all Chinese, were they?  How many Thai hookers were onboard?  Any?  They should turn the investigation over to Kinky Friedman.  If he can't find it, I'm sure he can come up with at least one good reason why not.  "Ok, so why would 'aliens' snatch a 777 out of midair?" You say? Well, for the Kung Pao Duck, of course!  Or maybe just for the fuck of it.  Maybe it's Operation Northwoods.  Look it up.  Maybe all those passengers became lizard food.  Maybe they were taken for a breeding program.  Maybe they are all on Mars, working as slave labor in the mines.  The point is, Who knows?  Somebody knows.  Somebody knows, but they aren't saying.  And the ones who are doing all the talking don't know jack shit.  That's how it usually goes.  I hear some food calling me.  Later-bye.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Musing, and Perusing the Amusing...

I have snot in my nose, and it doesn't smell like a rose, I can smell my own snot, it smells like boogers.  Can you fathom the fact?  And imagine that!  When the room smells like cat, and the house smells like dog, and the bathroom smells like ass...

People still like to fly aboard airplanes, even though airplanes have fallen from the sky and people have been killed and maimed, people still climb aboard, taking their lives into their hands, and praying to their gods, they clamber inside the great aluminum birds and set out for adventure...  Cross oceans of water, in search of tomorrow, and dreaming a theme of their journey... Better get a good attorney, your family might want to sue the airline later.

I don't fly.  I don't fly because planes tend to fall out of the sky.  I still remember flight 401, flight 427, flight 800, flight 592, flight 103... I was on a plane ride once in my life, on an Eastern Airlines L1011, when I was ten. (I refer you once more to flight 401...) Once was enough for me. I could see the clouds being sucked into the left engine.  I didn't see any gremlins on the wing, but I wasn't looking for them, either.  I won't tell you if I saw anything grey and metallic-looking, you can speculate on that, if you like.

Suffice it to say, I have no desire to fly aboard a commercial airliner.  Nor do I have any reason to.  That's why we have highways.  You may want to run off the statistics now about air safety vs highway safety, blaw-blaw-blaw... Don't bother.  I know all of that.  Bottom line: Trucks and cars don't fall from the sky! They are already on the ground!  Yes I know I could get gooshed like a grape at 100 miles an hour, {or 90, or 80...} But I'll take my chances.  When I'm driving, I'm in control of my vehicle.  I'm not flying that airplane.  Also, as I've pointed out earlier, even if I have to swerve into the grass, or whatever, at least I'm already on the ground, so there's no chance of falling 30,000 feet.  There's also slim to zero chance of Abdullah The Goatfucker hijacking me with a boxcutter and forcing me to drive into a building.

My sincere apologies and sympathy for anyone who lost a loved one on 9/11/01.  But Abdullah The Goatfucker wasn't acting on his Islamic fanaticism alone, he had lots of help.  Inside job.  False-flag operation.  Search a film entitled Loose Change, and watch it.  I have been gifted [or cursed with the gift?] with the ability to see and identify bullshit, especially official bullshit (AKA propaganda) and I have a well-honed distrust of all things pertaining to government.

Hatred is a strong word.  There are many types of hatred, most of it fear-based. (ie: racial/ethnic hatred, for instance..)  But the bitter loathing and contempt that I hold for all forms of "authority", for the king, and for the money-man, for the CEO and for the mallguard, for every thug who hides behind a badge, and every power-mad politician, this is a special kind of hatred.  Born of, "Who the fuck are you to give me orders, motherfucker?!" and "Who has the right to force their will upon anyone else?" this hatred is fact-based.  I recognize no form of "authority" and I bow before no one.
You can kill me, but you cannot make me bow.

Crazy Horse.  William Wallace.  True Heroes are seldom seen, few and far between, and we are in sore need of one now.  How many are willing to fight "authority" to the death?  I am.  I want Humanity to be better seven generations forth from this one, and fascism stands in the way of that.
This must be dealt with.

There.  I went from smelling the boogers in my nose to fighting for freedom in seven paragraphs.  That says a lot about where my mind is actually at.  Though I attempt to lighten things up with nonsensical humor, the truth remains.  And where is the plane?  Who knows?  Not me.  I can speculate with the best of them, but speculation is still only speculation, and most of it is horseshit since it can't be backed up with evidence...  Horseshit is hard to wipe off your boot, and it tends to stink.

I'll close with this:
Guess what...

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Once upon a time I kicked a dead pigeon down the street.  I guess it had been hit by a car, maybe, I don't know, but its guts were hanging out, and each time I kicked it, more guts would come streaming out of it.  You wouldn't believe how much guts there is in a pigeon, unless of course if you gutted one, I suppose.  There had to have been twenty feet of intestine there, and other organs too.  It was bloody, but it was yellow, sort of a cheddar and tomato paste lookin mess there on the concrete.  I kept on kicking it until I lost interest in it.  I still had some of it on my shoe.  Then I went home for lunch.  And guess what lunch was...  Pizza.  Frozen Tambelini's pizza, with a mixture of mozzarella & cheddar cheeses on it, and you know what it looked like?  Pigeon guts.  I said as much.  I told my Mom what it looked like, as I was eating it.  I might've been ten at the time.  It didn't seem overly gross to talk about kicking a dead pigeon, or that fact that my lunch looked like pigeon guts while I was eating it.  It still tasted like pizza.  Moms tend to think things of that nature are gross, though.  Mine did.  She asked me why I kicked it, I said I didn't know, because it was there.  She asked me if I washed my hands, and I said that I didn't pick it up, I just kicked it down the street.  She said that pigeons are like flying rats, they're full of diseases, and a bunch of other stuff, and then she noticed that there was still pigeon guts on the toe of my shoe...  Mothers don't really appreciate the subtle nuances of pigeon guts, or the way it forms a splatter pattern on a Converse shoe.  She really didn't appreciate the fact that I wore it into the house that way, that pretty much iced that cake.  The yelling began, and I decided that was a good time to beat feet out the back door.  Fuck the rest of the pizza.  I think I might've gone back to the dead pigeon and stomped it to make its brains and the rest of its guts goosh out and splatter all over the street, but I didn't do that right away.  I think I went and stole some cigarettes from the drugstore first.  I reckon a normal kid wouldn't have done that.  The stomping, I mean.  Maybe the kicking too, I don't know.  It was already dead, it wasn't like I stomped it to death.  I did that several years later.  It isn't easy to stomp a live pigeon, or even to kick one, since they tend to fly away.  You gotta find one that's sleeping, and then you gotta be lucky.  I used to walk thru the whole flocks of them in the park when I was a teenager, just to scare them airborne, and to piss off all the people who sat around feeding them.  Well, one time there was one asleep, and I just stepped right on it, kind of a jump-stomp, but I never broke stride to do it.  Just real quick like.  Goosh.  And I kept on walking, but I heard people freaking out over my shoulder.  I guess they were shocked by my actions.  I feel bad about it now, but at the time I didn't care.  Is that callous?  Probably.  Heartless? Cruel? Sadistic?  Yes, yes, and yes.  Even though feral pigeons do overpopulate in cities, especially when people feed them, and they do carry disease, and they shit everywhere, and where they roost stinks worse than a line of port-a-johns at a big festival.  It was cruel of me to stomp a sleeping bird, and rude to do it in front of old grandmas who feed them.  So I feel remorse for doing it.  I'm not going to take a knotted rope and flagellate myself severely about the head and shoulders because of it, but I do feel some remorse for it.  And who wants to come home from work to find a mess of smashed bird in the street in front of their house, with approximately twenty feet of pigeon chitterlings trailing out behind it... ?  Not me, I reckon.

I am the Anti-Midas, everything I touch turns to shit...

Shit.  It's all shit.  "Everything is shit."
That's what one 'Gabbi Colette' said in a video entitled Interior Semiotics.
   You can find it here: ... Shit.

It's all shit.  Everything turns to shit eventually.  Nothing lasts forever in the material.  Not even the seven wonders.  I couldn't finish my supper, because it tasted like shit. {Actually, it tasted like vomit, but shit works in this context.}  It even smells like shit.  I can still smell it.  Smells like dukey.
What's brown and runs down your leg? Dukey!  So that's basically it - it's all shit.  From the time I was a little kid, all my shit breaks, I can't never have nothin' nice.  It's like they made it all for someone with a light (or gentle) touch, not for me.  If they'd've made it for me it would've been heavy duty, but it wasn't.  Toys didn't last very long around me when I was a kid.  Neither did other stuff around the house.  Seemed like everything I touched either broke, or wore out, or became unusable in a very short time. (even a puppy!)  Tonka trucks were the only thing that lasted a good minute.  Matchbox cars couldn't stand up to the rigorous gas stove test (or to a redbrick, or being thrown out a two story window, etc.) Clothing didn't last very long either.  Anything I touched, it died.  Neighbors' cars were fair game if they were parked on the street.  I got in and pulled every knob, knobs came off in my destructive little hands, antennas bent or broke off, turn signal levers snapped, mirrors twisted right off their mountings, things of that nature.  It was the same in school, pencils snapped, erasers came off, paper tore, pages came out of books, toilets backed up and overflowed, teachers screamed...

...As I grew, it was the same, things just followed suit.  Dirtbikes blew up.  Firearms misfired.  Plastic models wouldn't cooperate and go together the right way so I'd get mad and smash them.  Games I couldn't win got thrown across the room.  Sports I wasn't any good at only got played a couple times, then forgotten about. [If there was no immediate gratification, then I lost interest very quickly.]  Cars broke, or engines blew up, or transmissions shat the bed.  Seems like they just don't make stuff heavy duty enough for the abuse I put them thru, except maybe Ford trucks.  Volkswagens make good woods-buggies, but they break too easy, and when you hit a concrete wall head-on, they kinda smash.
(You may think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not.)  Apartments break.  Houses break.  Windows don't stand up to cinder blocks, and furniture doesn't stand up well to drunk humans.  Neither do walls, appliances, or sinks and commodes.  Girlfriends can break too.  Maybe they break emotionally, but it still amounts to the same state of broken.  It's like a long trail of destruction in my wake.  It's gotten better over the last ten years since I stopped drinking booze, but shit still breaks sometimes, or doesn't go my way, doesn't cooperate, and I get mad, and I yell and cuss and smash things... Hulk Smash!  Hulk Smash!   .... But my name isn't Bruce Banner.  I don't get it sometimes, why can't inanimate objects just cooperate?  Can't they see that I'm Human?  I'm supposed to be the one in charge here, not some inanimate object.  Toaster doesn't wanna cooperate?  Burn my toast?  Eat my tortilla and don't wanna give it back?  Fuck up my waffle?  I'll unplug it and smash it with a baseball bat! Pow!  There, I showed it who's boss. Goddamn motherfuckin toaster.  But then I had to go get a new one.  If it woulda just cooperated with me to begin with, then none of that woulda happened.  Why can't shit just work like it's supposed to?  Fuck.  If everything would just go my way, it would be cool.
Motherfuckingoddamnmotherfuckinfuckingoddamnmotherfuckinshit, fuck.  Fuckin, if fuckin shit would fuckin just fuckin, fuckin, do what it's fuckin made to fuckin, fuckin do, fuckin everything would fuckin be so fuckin, motherfuckin smooth, man.  What the fuckin fuck. Why fuckin can't fuckin shit fuckin just fuckin do fuckin what it's fuckin supposed to fuckin do?  Why fuckin the fuckin fuck does fuckin shit fuckin have to fuckin be such a fuckin challenge, man?  Why can't it just work right the first time?  Then I wouldn't fuckin have so fuckin much motherfuckin stress, shit would be all good, man.  My stomach wouldn't hurt.  My blood pressure wouldn't be so high.  I wouldn't want a cigarette.  And if I could hit the lottery for like a million bucks or more, then everything would be cool, man.  No more worries.  Just move to Colorado and smoke reefer all day, and build race cars.  Mmhuh. Fmpf.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Wedgie Comment

This is a comment I just left on a post I discovered by accident on an environmental blog. I will include a link to the page as well, and the picture from it:
Wow. The wedgie picture brought me here. Seriously, my ex had a friend who used to ask me to pick her wedgie, it was her way of flirting, I guess. I see this post is a few years old now. It's January 2014. The cutback on coal usage has resulted in a lot of miners losing their jobs and now adding to the unemployment lines, and at least a few states where coal is a major industry are not happy with the current administration. Some aspects of it, such as strip-mining and especially mountaintop removal are horribly destructive to the land and should be stopped, however, these families have been deep coal miners for several generations, they don't know any other way of life, and thanks to the new regulations they are now fucked. How does anyone justify that fuckery? As far as aggressive climate management, I'm not sure what that means exactly. When I traveled westward in 2008, I fully expected to see large herds of Bison along the highway, and I did not. Even on the res I didn't see any, I saw horses, and black Angus cows, but no Bison. At Crazy Horse mountain I saw a herd of what looked like hybrid Bison/Hereford, but not just Bison. This bothers me a great deal. There should be herds everywhere, and there are not. I also did not see one Puma, or one Wolf. I saw lots of beef cattle, which I'm sure are aggressively managed. I've also read about Arctic Wolves and endangered Polar Bears being aggressively 'managed' via the "Sara Palin method." (Run them half to death with a chopper, then shoot them from above, AKA aerial murder.) Socialist/Communist approaches to things are traditionally not easily accepted in America, although that seems to be changing somewhat in the Obummer days, could that be the "change" he promised? I do not approve of mandatory insurance, and I do not intend on signing up for it, it amounts to fascism, big brother forcing you under duress to buy something you don't want. What are they gonna do, put me in jail because I refuse? Fuck the government, and fuck their laws. Now, gun control, yes, politicians love gun control, politicians like Josef Stalin, Adolph Hitler, Idi Amin, Saddam Hussein... Look at this Sandy Hook crap, a false flag operation just like 9/11, except this time around it was done to sway public opinion towards gun control, but it didn't work like they thought it would, so watch out for still more false flag ops. We don't live in a "free" country, that is an illusion invented by the illuminati in the 1770s, convince the livestock/serfs that they are free, and they will be more productive. Maybe it's something in my DNA, maybe it's my Native Blood, maybe it's my Celtic Blood, I don't really know, but I have this natural ability to see thru walls of government bullshit. Paper currency is fiat money, not worth the paper they print it on, the whole system is set up to favor the uber-rich 1%, because their forebears set it up that way. It's not much different than if you gamble at a casino, the odds always favor the house, because they planned it that way. In their eyes we are all just oxen, beasts of burden which can quickly be converted to steaks on the barby without much effort on their part. Believe it or don't.

That's it.  I decided to copy/paste it over here because it has to be approved over there before it will post, and I don't know how long that takes, or if anyone over there even cares, since the original post was from six and a half years ago.  So here it is, I posted it here, if for no other reason than so my words will not be lost in some cloud of cyberspace somewhere, haw haw.

Remember, more will be revealed.  You must excuse me now, I have cats and dogs staring at me, seeking my attention.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

C'mon, internet. Help me out here a little bit...

Can you imagine what would have happened if there had been a communication network of some kind among all Indigenous Peoples, among all the Nations of Turtle Island, when the first explorers from Europe landed?  Even runners on foot could have spread the word fairly quickly that there were invaders and interlopers on our eastern shores, Warriors could have been sent from other Nations to reinforce the defending army.  We could have repelled the invaders, and the entire global socio-political structure would be different today.  Well, different certainly, but I don't know in how many ways, or exactly what ways.

I'd like to think that we would not have the pollution we have now, that all the oil and coal would not have been taken and wasted, that Mother Earth would not have been exploited to the current extent, but I can't know it for certain.  I'd like to think that the gold would not have been mined from the Black Hills to the extent it has been, and/or that at the very least the Lakota Nation would have gotten rich from it instead of whatever eastern white businessmen did.  But again, I can't know for certain, can I?

Conquest and colonialism destroyed much of the Natural World in the 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, & 19th centuries.  The industrial revolution from the late 19th throughout the 20th hammered it under a shell of steel and concrete.  522 years of destruction and exploitation have taken their toll on our planet.  It makes me want to puke if I think about it too much.

 -Excuse me a minute, the emergency broadcasting system is blasting out of the television in the other room...
'"..If this had been an actual emergency...'" Ok. Can't be too careful anymore these days, or too paranoid. Especially with the giant lizard that blew across the eastern seaboard yesterday into last night. {Monster Lizard} 
Where was I?
Colonialism.  Europeans tried to own India, Africa, and the Americas.  They probably would've tried to own China too, but the Chinese had gunpowder.  Now I'm not saying that all Europeans are fucked up mentally, but the whole mindset of "I claim this land in the name of [insert country/king]..." Regardless of the fact that said land is already inhabited, is not only brazenly pompous, but it defies logic.  How about if I take my own flag and plant it on the lawn of some millionaire's estate and say "I claim this land for me!"?  The pigs would come and take me to jail.  For the Spanish, Portuguese, English, Dutch.. (did I miss anyone, yeah probably) claiming and conquering was a way of life, though it amounts to basically being a thief.  I have more respect for pirates, because pirates didn't pretend to be explorers seeking territory for their kings, on the contrary, pirates attacked and plundered the ships of the kings.  Pirates swore allegiance to no monarch or government, which makes them heroes in my book, even though they were also thieves.

What is to be gained from being a thief?  Well, I guess it depends on the individual and how he/she conducts their business.  The 'royalty' and 'nobility' of Europe amassed material wealth over centuries by hoarding resources, jewels, and precious metals, but at the start they were all just thieves.  They preyed upon those who had less than them, were weaker than them, could not defend themselves sufficiently, etc.  They feuded with each other, whoever won would steal the resources and hoarded materials of the ones they defeated.  Somehow they were able to get armies to fight for them, mostly by paying them, or promising them a share of the spoils.  They stormed across the land, ransacking, raping, pillaging, scaring the innocent peasants into submission.  The Romans did it, the Huns did it, the Mongols, the Turks, the Greeks, seems like every so-called 'great' civilization from Europe and Asia was involved in conquest, war and destruction, devastation, the taking and exploitation of lands and peoples.  (How did the ones with the power ever acquire said power to begin with? By being thieves, stealing, robbing, killing the innocent and robbing them of anything of value... Did they have help from some outside source[s], offworlders, inter-dimensional entities, etc. ??)  This behavior pattern continued through the dark ages, the medieval times, the black plague, the renaissance, all the way into the age of exploration and discovery.  The behavior has become ingrained into the DNA and the thinking of the old world mind.  Even the regular people (peasants, commoners, vulgate, serfs, proletariat...) perceive it as "normal" and rarely rebel against it unless and until they are pushed as far as possible and their backs are against the wall (Kind of like here in America today..)

So, if there had been some organization, some network among the Tribes and Nations, could we have fought off the invaders?  Could we have kept them off our Homeland? We had the Six Nations, but we couldn't keep the invaders from taking out lands.  Down south, the Maya, Aztec, and Inca had large civilizations, but they couldn't keep the invaders from invading. The first 'explorers' brought with them horses and swine. The horses quickly got loose, multiplied, and became an asset to many Indigenous Nations.  But the swine also got loose and quickly multiplied.  They ate the Native crops, which were not fenced against them, they grew tusks and became feral, nasty-tempered little voracious eaters.
The Europeans also brought diseases with them that the Indigenous Peoples had no natural immunity to.  Diseases spread like wildfire, wiping out vast numbers of Humanity. (Which some Europeans perceived as their god driving out and wiping out the infidels before them.)  The Anasazi disappeared, without explanation.  The Mound builders also vanished, so that we don't even know who they were.  There is no record that any modern scholar can comprehend.
Tragedy is such an understatement as to not even come close, there's no single English word powerful enough to describe the extent of desolation.

When the next wave of Europeans arrived, they found lands largely devoid of inhabitants, they called it a 'paradise', which they then immediately began to exploit and destroy.  Their 'royalty' and 'nobility' sent representatives here to be governors and overseers, to manage the peasants and serfs who had tried to escape them by migrating here.  The governors brought soldiers to kill the innocent Indigenous Peoples who were strong enough to have survived the merciless onslaught of disease.  The 'nobility' began to parcel the land, to draw dividing lines, to make plantations, and to import slaves...

  Vicious cycle of death, how wanton your devastation, how unbridled your greed and lust for destruction. How vile your need to waste and ruin anything good. I can't understand how you waste with impunity. Is there no end to this senseless murder of life?

I wish I knew a way to reverse it all, to educate the masses, overthrow the overlords, restore the land...  We are supposed to be the protectors, the caretakers of Mother Earth, not her murderers and destructors.  That's what leads me to believe, or at least reinforces my belief, that the European Royals are not Human.  Or at least, not entirely human.  Look at some of their other attitudes and behaviors.  They walk around with their noses in the air, they act like they think their shit don't stink.  They think they are somehow better than everyone else, they actually think their bloodlines give them some right to treat others with disdain, to use and abuse and exploit and destroy, all with impunity, because they are so damn special.  I think they all need to be forcibly brought down from their castles and dragged thru the mud and the shit, be pelted with rotten garbage and generally degraded until they are made humble before the masses.  Then their material wealth be divided equally among the whole of Humanity.  And I don't just mean the kings and queens, but all of them, all of the illuminati, the bankers, the CEOs, the politicians, everyone responsible for the suffering of others, everyone responsible for the exploitation and destruction of our planet, including their human cronies who work for them, to the very degree that they have abused their fellow Earth-beings.  They need to be made to pay for what they have wrought.  Then we all need to work together to restore our planet to Her former unspoiled state, and it will not be easy by any means, but it needs to happen, lest we all perish.

Before any of that will be possible, we must uncover the secrets that they have been hiding from us for millennia, we need to know exactly who and what our enemy is, what it looks like, how to distinguish it from ordinary humans and other beings which are not destructive, and, of course, how to kill it.  It may well be some kind of insect, or bacteria, or even a virus, which somehow invades a human host and then controls him/her.  It could be Spiritual or Ethereal in nature, which could potentially make it harder to uncover, and/or harder to kill.  It could be hyper-dimensional.  It could be physical but able to shape shift and assume human form.  It could even be human for all intent and purpose, appearing exactly like ordinary humans but with a malevolent, destructive essence, mind, and Spirit.  It could be all or some or even none of the above.  The point being that we simply do not know at this point.

We know from the obvious what the identities of some of the illuminati are, but it would be difficult at best to get to them without massive casualties on our part, because they are well-protected.  This is case in point for why it is imperative that we uncover all the secrets and make them known to all of Humanity.  Once all the cards are on the table, so to speak, then the overthrow of the overlords will be much easier to accomplish.  I still don't expect it to be easy, I expect it to be difficult, and long, and arduous, and most-likely a bloody mess.  However I do believe that Humanity has allies, and maybe once they see that we are standing up for ourselves, maybe they will help us. Maybe.  (Refer to the Prime Directive from Star Trek, they may not be allowed to alter our destiny, they may not be able to interfere at all, but they may yet be able to help us in some way.)

What (or who) are these little greys with the big black eyes that everyone associates with abduction?  Are they beings?  Are they some kind of organic automaton, following a program?  And if so, who programmed them, and why? They don't seem to show much concern for us, anymore than we show for a lab rat.  Are they what the Annunaki were trying to create when they created Humanity? (if in fact they created us..)  If one little grey was isolated from its hive-mind, would it begin to think for itself?  Are they even capable of sentience and individuality?  Humans are prone to the phenomenon of the mob-mentality. I've never been involved in a riot, but I've been involved in bar-fights, and some other big fights, and I have lots of firsthand experience with concerts.  Why do we have that tendency to unite violently in certain stressful situations?  Is it a latent trait from ancient times?  Is it something programed into our DNA by someone attempting to make us act like a hive?  Are we a mistake of breeding?  Are we genetically related to any other race or races?  How about the Tall Whites? How about the Nordics? Fact is, we don't know, do we?  We don't know enough.  We haven't been told the whole story.  Governments and religions have secrets they refuse to disclose.  Disclosure of facts must be accomplished.  We must find a way to break the wall of secrecy.  I would willingly incite a riot against "authority" if I knew beforehand that the outcome would be favorable, that more would benefit from it than not, and that no innocents would be harmed.

The Rodney King riots accomplished nothing of any benefit to anyone except indirectly to the very "authority" that people were rioting against, there's some bitter irony for you, but it's true.  Innocent people were hurt, stores and other small businesses were destroyed, and the pigs came out in body armor and proceeded to bust heads, which I think they actually enjoy doing. The more recent riots in England seem to have been about the same, accomplishing nothing, except innocent people being harmed, and the pigs turning out in armor to enjoy a game of 'bash the skulls.'  This seems to be an increasing trend, and can only be overcome by rioters turning out in greater numbers, preferably also wearing armor of some kind, especially helmets and gas masks, in order to counteract the increasing number of pigs.  However, when more people turn out to riot, still more pigs turn out to bash heads, and they start using rubber bullets, beanbags, tazers, nets, water-canons, and ever increasingly larger and more powerful weapons against innocent people.  Thus, violence only escalates, violence begets violence, and pretty soon we have a war on our hands, wherein more innocent people end up suffering and being hurt and/or killed by pigs.

  Now know this, in no uncertain terms: There are far more citizens than there are pigs.  Trouble is, pigs have weapons, and enjoy using them.  There are also more citizens than there are military troops, but again, the military has weapons.  Lots of weapons.  And big weapons.  It is better to get members of the military allied with the protesters, that way they will be less likely to follow the orders to shoot innocent civilians when the government orders it.  And make no bones about it, ordering soldiers to shoot innocent civilians is the next logical progression down the line, just like they did at Kent State.  Those guardsmen at Kent State were lied to by the government, they were led to believe that the anti-war demonstrators were a dangerous communist threat, and then they were intentionally spurred  to shoot into the crowd.  It could happen just as easily today, but today we also have methods available to us (such as the internet) to make contact with enlisted personnel and communicate with them so as to interrupt the chain of command which orders them to fire on civilians, and hopefully we prevent the mass slaughter of innocents which can occur from pigs being allowed to run amok unchecked.

More and more individuals are waking up to the actual way things work, as opposed to the bullshit they teach the kids in school.  More and more of us are opening our eyes to the sneaky underhanded way that governments operate.  And wondering what we can do to change it.  And more and more of us have smartphones which we can use to record live video of whatever is happening at the moment, including pigs beating innocent civilians.  And we have a whole internet to use to communicate with one another and share our opinions and ideas.  I still think it will be awhile until we see positive changes which will benefit everyone, rather than the "change" which politicians promise and never deliver on, (other than to steal more from us and funnel it to their rich buddies,) but we are moving in the right direction, even as the propaganda mill belches out more and more prefabricated bullshit to the sheeple.  But as the bullshit propaganda becomes more and more ridiculous, so more folks open their eyes to it and say "What the fuck?"

I'm really getting sick of the totalitarian NWO police-state that society has become, not just here in America, but globally.  I'm hoping for some kind of a major wake-up-call that will jolt the majority of the masses out of their somnambulant slumber and open everyone's eyes to the truth.

C'mon, internet. Help me out here a little bit...

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Bridging the gap of years to the endoplebe...

I just saw a film.  I watched a movie.  It was a sad movie about little kids called Bridge To Terebithia.
I had heard of it, I even remember seeing the trailers for it seven years ago, sort of. 2007, I was living with a crazy junkie girlfriend at the time, she used to throw dishes at me, and lock herself in the bathroom.  I was driving tow trucks for a living.  I remember the trailers, but I never saw the movie until tonight.  It dredges up some unpleasant memories from childhood.  I want to figure out why.  I don't remember how old I was at the time, just that I was a little kid.  I got invited to someone's birthday party.  We were all eating cake and ice cream, and a whiffle ball landed in my plate of cake.  I looked up and there was a kid laughing at me, so I got up and went after him.  I smashed his face into a stone wall, hard enough that it made a kind of "Pock!" sound, and his nose and mouth were all bloody.  I figured that he threw the ball into my food on purpose, because he laughed at me.  I got in trouble.  I had to leave the party, and I wasn't allowed to go back to those people's house anymore.  I got my ass beat.  I don't know how bad I hurt him.  I don't even remember his name, who he was, if he was the birthday kid's family or just some kid from school, or what.  I don't even know if he threw the ball, or if he even had anything to do with it, or if it was an accident, what direction it came from, nothing.  He might have been just having fun, and all of a sudden some kid got up and smashed his face into a wall.  Pow!  Probably fucked up his whole day.  Shocked the shit out of the birthday kid's mother, I remember that much.  But he laughed at me!  How dare he laugh at me?  They all laughed at me in school and called me names, so I showed them.  I took toilet paper rolls and stuffed them into all the toilets and flushed them until they overflowed, then I flushed them some more, just to make sure the bathroom was good and flooded.  Then I pulled the fire alarm.  I also went thru parked cars, whatever ones had a door unlocked, and I pulled knobs off, stole change, pulled emergency brakes and watched them drift into other cars...  I guess maybe I was a bad kid.  Once there was a milk truck parked on a hill, they still had milk delivery to your house in the early 70s, and I guess the milkman was up at someone's house, but his truck was running in the street.  There was a whole string of little kids, and we all walked thru the milk truck, in the passenger door, and out the driver door.  I was the last kid in line, and I released the brake, and the truck started rolling backwards, as I jumped out the door.  It rolled all the way down the hill and into a tree, with the milkman chasing after it yelling.  We all ran away.  I never got in trouble for that one.  I must've been in second grade.  How old is that?  Seven?  Yeah.  Rumor had it that the milkman broke his leg, but I don't know.  I was a bad kid.  I can see it now.

So why did that movie make me remember that stuff?  I guess it was the two bully kids, and he finally turned around and hit one of them after the girl died.  I don't remember any kids that I knew dying, but I sort of remember some girl's cousin got killed by a drunk driver, run over walking home from school, I think, but I didn't know her.  I got picked on sometimes, but I found ways to get revenge.  I stole one kid's matchbox cars and crushed them with a brick.  Things of that nature.  I hit a kid in the back with an umbrella, stabbed him with it would be more accurate.  I pushed people into the barberry hedges. (that hurts, let me tell you)  I stomped thru the wet cement in front of someone's house one time, and I mean stomped and also jumped with both feet, boink-boink-boink!  I got busted for that one.  Got my ass beat.  Then I went and broke windows in that guy's garage, that'll show him for chasing me home.  Except he saw me break the windows, so I got busted for that too, and got my ass beat.  I got in my Dad's car when I was five, and put it in gear, and wrecked it into the garage wall.  He had left it running.  I got my ass beat with his belt for that one.  After awhile, anytime anything got broken, or stolen, or set on fire around the neighborhood, it got blamed on me, whether I had anything to do with it or not.  I was about 12, and I stole this little mini-torch from Radio Shack.  I guess it was for soldering or something, I don't know, but it melted aluminum pretty good.  There was an intercom box on the outside of a doctors' office building, it had buttons with each doctor's name and a doorbell button next to the name, and it had a speaker.  I used to stop and buzz all the buttons, just to piss people off.  Sometimes I would yell cuss words if they answered.  So I had this little torch, and I found out it could melt aluminum cans, so me and my buddy went to the doctors' intercom box and used the torch on it.  It caught on fire, with lots of smoke, and we ran like hell and got busted.  We also got busted for breaking windshields with a hammer, and some other vandalism.  I threw an axe-head thru the window of a city bus one time, but I didn't get caught that time. That would've been some time in juvie for sure.  I set the trash can on fire in school, I stole things out of stores, I stole things out of parked cars, and peoples garages, but I didn't get caught for any of that.  I used to light green plastic army men on fire and watch the plastic drip.  If you've ever done it, you'll remember the "vvvit-vvvit-vvvit" sound of the plastic drips.  I used to put matchbox cars on the gas stove and watch them burn, but my Mom didn't like when I did that, and I got my ass beat for it, so I had to steal road flares and do it outside.  I stole 12-guage shells and buried them in the dirt, then used road flares to fire the primers.  Not to blow stuff up, necessarily, just to make it go boom.  There was a building with a long hallway in it, I used to run thru there tossing firecrackers because they would echo.  One time I had a big capacitor from out of a stereo, and I hooked a long cord to it, and plugged it into the wall socket in that hallway.  I had a buddy with me, and we heard it make a big loud boom as we were running out the exit door.  Surprising we didn't get busted for that, it was loud as fuck, and it probably caused some damage.  I think we set a big ashtray on fire in that same hallway one time, one of those metal trashcan ashtrays, we put a strip of firecrackers in it.  I think we might've thrown them into big blue mailboxes too, and I know that's illegal, not to mention really bad, and just plain wrong, and you can get in a lot of trouble for it, but we didn't get caught.  Was I a bad kid?  I guess.  I had a lot of anger, probably because of my Dad always beating my ass, and other kids in school fucking with my peace of mind, so I lashed out at society.  When I was five, my hero was Dennis The Menace, I wanted to be just like him.  When I was in grade school, my heroes were Tom Sawyer & Huckleberry Finn.  No wonder I did shit.  Then I read a book about Crazy Horse when I was 11, and after that I wanted to fight the government.  I'm just getting in touch with my inner child here.  The endoplebe, that's the child within.  Mine is in need of some attention, he's pissed off at the world, he wants to fight everyone and everything at every turn, and I'm trying to find out why.  Why are you so pissed off, kid?  Who did this to you?  Poor kid is fucked up in the noggin, emotionally scarred from some traumatic event, but what?  I can't seem to remember...  Why?

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Aye, Cap'n Suh...

The Solstice comes, the Solstice goes...  Christmas comes, Christmas goes...  The new year comes, the old year passes into the forgotten...  Santa Claus doesn't come, except in some young hearts and minds, but overall, no jolly old fat man wearing a red suit...  Oh, there was the usual wanton consumption, consumerism, commercialism, corporatism, fueled by selfishness and greed, with the usual scrooges counting their coins, while the modern-day cratchets  go hungry, the Tiny Tims suffer, the drunks and junkies shiver on skid rows across the land, and the shallow, self-absorbed louts in between busy themselves with their own little plans and desires... The preacher-man stands at the pulpit, in his Armani suit, and blathers about something he read in a book while the congregation raptly donates pennies to the coffer...  They all feel good about themselves for a minute, comfortable in their delusions, while the homeless couple wrap their children tighter in their thin feeble blanket and pray they survive another night.  This is America.  And Santa Clause didn't come.
Dichotomy of haves and have-nots...

I had the flu for Christmas, followed by bronchitis, and then pneumonia. I did not even come close to almost cutting my hair, though.  I can't smoke a cigarette.  I want one, very much in fact, I just can't smoke them anymore.  While I once had that privilege, I abused it so drastically, so frightfully, to such a degree that I no longer have it available as an option, not if I want to survive much longer.

Though I suffer routinely from suicidal ideations, I do not relish the thought of meeting Death on Death's terms.  I do not wish to die a long and painful death, plugged into machines, hoses entering and exiting my body, nor do I wish to starve, or drown, or suffocate, or aspirate my own vomit.  Still, we all die eventually, one way or another.  I'd rather die fighting against tyranny than die a slave.

I can elaborate ad infinitum, and after my tirade the results would be the same.  If I succumb to depression and end my life by my own hand, then it all becomes moot. - Everything I ever believed in, everything I ever worked towards, all my hopes and dreams, all my opinions... Everything, moot and pointless.  Life no more significant than a football game.

I don't know how it will all end, or what hopes and dreams may or may not come to fruition.  I know that I don't want it to all be for nought.  If there is no meaning, then what's the point?  Does humanity even deserve betterment?  Are we worthy of something more than just groveling for subsistence?  Or are we simply a parasitic disease, a blight on the face of Mother Earth, devouring all in our path and leaving scorched and used-up soil in our wake, a snake of shit to mark the snail's trail of desolation.
Some would say there is bitterness in my words.  Should there not be?

Do we deserve to evolve to the next level?  We who have a history of murdering one another and our fellow creatures, we who tend to use up resources wantonly and spew toxic pollution with willful disregard for future generations, we who take-take-take and give nothing back, we who nearsightedly perceive ourselves as the height of Creation and the center of the Universe.... How dare we be so presumptuous?

And so the outsiders come, the offworlders, the dark overlords, the visitors, the archons, whatever you choose to label them, alien or guest, friend or foe, angel or demon...  They have been with us a long time now, a very long time, as we perceive time, and they bring with them their own dogma, their own set of rules, their own agenda.  I can't say for certain just what their agenda is, but you can bet your ass that it is whatever most benefits them, not us.  ...And we sit around making memes about fuzzy-wuzzy kittycats, Y U No's, and "rage comix"....  Wasting every spare moment engaged in one selfish persuit or another, watching meaningless television drivel, discussing partisan politics, arguing over whose god will kick whose ass... That is, those of us "lucky" enough to have time to think about any of that, those of us not preoccupied with surviving another day.  "Where will my next piece of food come from? Will there be shelter tonight? Will the sun rise tomorrow?"  If my biggest concern is will there be enough half-n-half for the coffee in the morning, then who and what the hell am I?  What have I done to help mankind today, or for the benefit of Mother Earth?  And if I cannot immediately answer, then I need to stop thinking about I for a minute. Aye, I Eye!  Oooh...