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.