The Burrowing Cockroach in a World Gone Mad.

I drop by Fox news dot com about once a month. This gives me a chance to see what cutting edge disinfo they’ve inserted between the tits and ass from silicone, bimbo world. These horizontal hula, blow-up doll, trampolines are something else; one step removed from a Chatty Cathy doll and all pneumatic, slick gliding, plastic from the toes to the nose. These are the culture models. These are the products made by the machine presses and stamps that shape the minds that shape the bodies of the wet t-shirt, shrink-wrapped final product that dances in the flames of California burning. We all know that California is burning but since it’s on TV it isn’t real and neither are the tattered, homeless forms, moving in the bridge abutment underworld beyond your windshield, as you drive into the future through the self-fulfilling prophecy of the moment.

We think of prophets as rail thin, wild men feeding on honey and locusts somewhere in a desert landscape. They speak in riddles filled with ominous portents of things already apparent but unseen due to some strange disconnect between the mind and the senses. It’s right there but it’s not there but it’s there alright. There are other prophets who are more precise because they speak in the specific language of the times. Fox News is a prophet. MSNBC.com is a prophet. All the controlled information feeds of radio and TV are prophets when you are objectively positioned to see into them as opposed to being ridden under them. Think of it as the difference between watching a horse race and being in a horse race. Watching grants a detachment not possible to those engaged in the spectacle.

This is how people can be ‘driven’ through states of madness …and yet maintain their course, as determined by the bit in their teeth and the reins attached. This is why they cannot stand outside of what is happening to them and identify it as something pathological instead of the natural order of things. We left the natural order of things a long time ago. When you are inside it, when you are dressed in that coat and tie, moving on the rails of habitual performance, all you know about is your engagement with or as the beast on the track. Sometimes it is better and sometimes it is worse. But… you are always at the whim of the beast. There is the element of control and then… there’s all that force which may go astray at any moment. No wonder you need a drink and another drink and a little stress management release in the wonderland of porn. Sure… it used to be something else before the romance was stripped away. Now it’s just porn. Now it’s just going through the motions.

Today Fox News had an item about the heaviest bug in the world. It’s in Australia and it’s a burrowing cockroach. Think of it… a ‘burrowing cockroach’. Is there a more perfect metaphor anywhere? This is prophecy indeed. This is a very big bug and it needs to be a big bug because it symbolizes something very large indeed. It’s the totem crfeature of the times.

When we are distressed, as we well should be, from ceaseless confrontation which something whose intent is to destroy us, then it is a natural reflex to burrow deeper into the pressing forgetfulness of what is causing the problem to begin with. It’s like pulling the covers over your head. It’s like just one more drink or happy pill. It’s whatever you need to create the cushion between you and what is feeding on you and that is why there is so much more flesh these days to give the impression of insulating something that is in a constant state of injury; granted no more than temporary relief from whatever tributary of Lethe is being accessed for the suppression of the symptom which is the evidence of things gone wrong. Suppress the symptoms and you increase the pressure at the root cause. What does your understanding of physics tell you about that?

What I see is riveting. On the one hand there is the remorseless push for deeper confinement, within ever more tightly proscribed boundaries, as if containment was an effective remedy. On the other hand there is the rapidly growing evidence that what you hear is not mirrored by what you see. What you feel is not mirrored by what you are being told. It’s Mick Jagger lashing the stage with a studded belt while saying, “Peace, brothers and sisters.” It’s the soothing voice which tells you everything is going to be alright as everything gets worse and worse.

There are other fires breeding beneath the rags in the corner of the storeroom, below decks on the great ship of state. There are vast piles of combustible materials known as ‘commercial loans’. There is an accelerant know as ‘bad intentions’. There’s a game of hot potato where the potato grows hotter as it passes from hands to hands. It’s a demented game of musical chairs, where sharp instruments are growing out of the chair seats apace with the increasing tempo of the music. Sitting down is not going to be pleasant but to be left standing is fatal. When the final player grabs the last remaining seat he is impaled on a steel spike that breaks through the crown surface of the skull. “Game over, you won!!!”

It seems that the only solution to survival is to mutate into a burrowing cockroach. It will come at the cost of your humanity but… you are alive. When ideals and values have gone by the wayside as the price for position and progress, then survival becomes the pre-eminent drive. Souls in possession of honor and integrity prefer the nobility of death in the face of such a choice; “Thomas Hobson to the white courtesy phone”.

Some years ago I lived in a teepee with Michael Green who is finally being recognized as a great artist and visionary. We stayed in this teepee in all seasons. Michael used to walk to town (3 miles of dirt road, 7 miles of highway) in his bare feet in the winter. We bathed in the icy stream on freezing winter mornings. Michael has never wavered in his path and made the right choices at every step of the way. I chose the rock and roll highway with the same goal in mind but traveling through much more serious and painful country. Michael made the better choices but that’s just how it went.

It isn’t the way we went that is important. It’s what our intentions were. We are here to make mistakes and in my passionate fury to burn through the sub-matrix, I made more than a few. I wish I had been more like Michael but regret is for those inclined to indulge in it. I guess some of us just like to do things the hard way (grin).

If your goals are no more than satisfying the need for security, position and power in this temporary realm then you will effectively possess none of them for long. The best you can hope for is to become an example not to be followed by anyone sane. In this world, the reality of the matter is the opposite of what we are presented with. An insane course will lead to an unfortunate end. If this is not self-evident then what hope do those who are collectively insane hope for? It is the bitter reflection of a lifetime missed that is the harvest of those who went by the usual routes. They are left to give their version of Cardinal Wolsey’s speech. In falling like Lucifer, Lucifer incarnates for the moment in everyone who chooses that inflexible course.

There is time for redemption in every life. Every life is filled with the ongoing moment where one might step aside if he willed it so. The force of the river’s current is so strong that they are few indeed who can thwart its intention and none of them without help.

It is always in hindsight that we see with clarity the error of our ways. It seems that the greatest challenge of any life is for the occupant to muster the necessary space for consideration before the fact. As our blindness increases, our ability to see diminishes accordingly.

It seems understandable that anyone who struggles must experience the wrath and contempt of those who could not bring themselves to strive for the narrow path and for which those who do stand as evidence of their failure to. I would not myself be a burrowing cockroach. The saving grace is that, despite my shortcomings, I have evidence of a better world and it cannot be discovered by digging deeper into this one.

Walk Through the Fire or Burn

The New Shangri-La

The Reality TV at the End of the World.

I don’t think I’ve ever really seen a reality show except for being in the room on occasion when one of the early prototypes came on MTV. It’s been years since I’ve seen MTV and decades since I’ve seen network TV so it is safe to say I don’t know what’s going on there. I can look at the general state of intelligence and the culture though and get an intuit into the effects. So… I went to a search engine and I searched for, “How many reality shows are on TV?” Right near the top I found this. I don’t think even the hard core Nimrods who watch this stuff would imagine (if they had that facility) there were so many. I realize this is probably a list of past and present shows and that some are no longer on the air but… unbelievable all the same.

When I check into the MSM each day to see what they are lying about, there are always these faces of people I never heard of and now I suspect this is where they come from. I try to imagine (having that facility) the hundreds of casting agency offices across the country that filter the desperate dreams of the rank and file whose ranks are now filing toward the windows of the unemployment offices and disappearing job interviews across the vast and benighted, obese landscape of their Krispy Kreme world.

Each day I read about people being tazered and beaten by police. I read about people being fired for inopportune words that could have meant this and could have meant that but wound up interpreted by agents of social control, which cost them their jobs and whatever else. Each day I read about random acts of violence and bimbos in suitcases. Every week someone shoots up a workplace. Every week some government agency sets up a handful of retards in a non-existent terror plot and meanwhile… these reality shows presuppose an existence that is scripted by people intentionally driving the culture toward ever further outbreaks of madness.

I remember being at Altamont when Mick Jagger was on stage and the Hell’s Angels were wailing into the crowd with their pool cues. Jagger was doing that song “Midnight Rambler” and “Street Fighting Man” was also in the lineup and as surges of violence spread out from pockets of bad acid freakers shoved into phalanxes of drunken thugs, Jagger would soothingly cry out… “Peace, brothers and sisters” and then he would whip the stage with his studded belt and pour it on for the next round. People tell me there was a Satanic circle painted on the stage for The Stones but I didn’t see it. I was pretty close to the stage but out of pool cue range. It might have been there… certainly the behavior was.

That event reminds me of the disconnect between these reality shows and life on the streets of the American Dream as it turns restlessly in its bed seeking a comfortable lie but something is in the bed and is biting the sleeper or… the mattress is wet with urine… or one corner of the bed has collapsed or something.

You go way back to the Bread and Circuses thing and you look through the lens of recall into the passing of history and at every turn you see the population distracted by cheap entertainments while something truly dreadful was going on in the wings. Is this moment in this time an exception to the rule? Should we expect that this time it will be different and everything will right itself and we will be back on course again? It seems we are on a course and it is most definitely the wrong one.

I’m indifferent to the changing permutations of the culture. I don’t watch TV and I don’t read the magazines. I don’t listen to the music. My one exception is movies. In any case, the only impact the present state of the culture has on me is a certain revulsion that rises now and again. I know there are others who are not manipulated by these things either but… there is some large body of the public that views all of it as being real. They are the sort that will argue that professional wrestling is not fixed and that watching cars go around and around the same circle, over and over again, is somehow fascinating; as fascinating as the human billboards that exit from the cars to a Toby Keith song called “Towelheads from Tulsa”

Across the water are tens of thousands of young Americans and even more hardened mercenaries who will be coming back to The Homeland at some point. They are learning what any man learns who is forced by bankers to kill for economic gain and they are all permanently damaged to some degree. Among them are that portion of psychopaths for whom this is an opportunity to torture and murder without penalty. Meanwhile the television puts forth vain and empty froth which is not unlike the froth inside of the heads of the people who are watching it.

Can it be assumed according to any yardstick or measuring device that… this is a mere phase from which some higher mind will suddenly spring like Venus from the forehead of Jupiter? Or is it rather one phase leading into another upon an ever deepening curve downward that is reflected in the increased acceleration of time as counterpoint?

Here I stand or sit, like yourself, surrounded by the cotton candy mist of torpor that veils the torments of those sacrificed upon the altar. Their blood is the grease that lubricates the gears and bearings of the Tilt a Whirl in the midnight amusement park of the nation that took too much and gave too little. I have been told we are all one but I cannot see the connection between them and me. I feel more kinship with the beasts of the field and less endangered by the beasts of the wild.

I know that I am supposed to love all with some kind of divine equanimity. I realize that I am required to move with an egalitarian awareness through the land of the Schmoos but some portion of me has not yet achieved to the liberation from passing judgment upon those who gave up their humanity for something that sticks in their teeth, tickles their privates and seeds their progeny as it devours their souls. Each day I hope that this state of being will descend upon me but so far it has not. Each day I watch the world move like a heavy drunk, leaning into the walls and shop windows for balance as it makes its way home.

If the world is a ship then the rudder is broken or the captain has gone overboard and now the course is determined by the impact of the things that hit it, or the tides, as it moves through space or across the tossing seas. I know this is an illusion and that everything is under control but it takes a lot of reminding under the circumstances.

Cultures and nations rise through the force of vision and industry toward an unreachable dream and descend rapidly into that failure unique to each… all the while the common mass never register the process, they merely play out their roles as canon fodder on the one hand and agents of desire and appetite on the other. You can see where the elite get the idea that they have no more value than cattle, even as they herd them toward their doom.

Now some woman in Tunisia is about to have twelve children at once which means the Octomom has to move over.

I’m a believer in the yin and yang of the thing. Hard science backs my hypothesis. I believe that whenever the darkness prevails across wide distances that the light must concentrate in certain locations. I believe that a signal goes out at these times and those attuned will hear the homing sound. Whenever large structures crash, there is some portion of the population that is beyond the kill zone.

Is there anywhere a leader of any country who is standing forth on the world’s stage and calling attention to the madness? Are they only being denied the coverage, bumped to Page 12 by some reality TV news? There are those small voices of reason and then there is a great wasteland of confusion moving toward irrevocable adjustment.

Seek out the concentrations of light. Move away from the centers of darkness. I can think of no other advice. That rough beast is on the move.

It Always Breaks Your Heart

The New Shangri-La

Kate Gosselin and The SPLC Terror Gang in Disneyland.

I’ve noted lately that you can’t go to an MSM latrine trench without coming across little scrawls of graffiti like this, “How is Kate Gosselin feeling?” Whoever this person is, they are all over the place. If you type it into a search engine, your first choice in the drop down menu is, ‘Kate Gosselin hair’ followed by; parents, tummy tuck, bad press and… she’s got recipes too. It seems that Gosselin is the mother of sextuplets and a reality TV star along with an estranged husband. I didn’t look any deeper because of the nausea factor.

My going to the MSM is a sort of necessary evil and I keep it to a minimum. I go there to see what shape the lies are taking in the particular time in which I am reading them and this gives me something similar to the Time Monks in terms of predicting events. Of course, I have nowhere near the hardware, elves or savvy that the Time Monks have but I can still read between the lines to some degree. I get information from the twist put on news events, real or imagined and I get information from what’s not being said but of which I am aware through other mediums.

It soon becomes obvious that Nimrods, with the mental acuity of a hedge hog, like the Gosselin brood …are there for the train wreck factor. It’s something stupid which is designed to keep the large body of stupids, who follow things like this, distracted from the truly horrible circumstances that are being erected around their doomed existences.

Twitter and The Gosselins are not accidents. What the Disney department of MK-Ultra did with Britney Spears, Timberlake and Aguilera was no accident. This is all by design. The creation of (Klaus) Barbie and Ken clones on the one hand and the loosing of all moral restraint on the other in every area of the entertainment world is not an accident. This is designed to confuse the inner and outer self by contradicting what you see with what you hear. It’s like someone incessantly tickling your genitals and telling you it is bad. This is why they set Spears up as a model virgin and then turned her into a public pig. Think about it.

You will note that we are never told which Mk-Ultra Disney agents are designing the fodder. We aren’t told who wrote The Patriot Act or who the principals behind the putsch of political correctness are. We aren’t given the faces and the names of the people who write the policies behind major social and political changes. Who decided to build the FEMA camps? Who authorized all of the coffin liners by the roadside? Who is pushing for mandatory flu inoculation? What are the names of the people who are promoting the plague of fascist enterprise across the globe? It’s not Howdy Doody Obama. He’s just the latest stooge, front man.

These days we know who did 9/11 and that is elements in the CIA and other intelligence services in tandem with Mossad. We know who crashed the financial system and that is Goldman Sachs in tandem with certain fellow travelers. We now know that representatives of Goldman Sachs are in all the key positions in the Howdy Doody administration where finance is concerned. We know who instigated the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and that is Israel. It is they who are now pressing to open the door to World War 3 with an assault on Iran.

Who are these other groups and individuals that are working within the social and cultural frameworks? Who is behind the changes in police behavior over the last ten years? Who is drafting the increasingly absurd laws that limit human expression? There are faces and names just like there are faces and names which consistently repeat when one investigates the Dutroux and Jersey affairs.

We know the public faces of those dancing around on the snake oil wagon but… who is putting the small pox in the blankets? Who brought the whiskey on to the reservation?

The one thing you begin to notice is the dreadful irony that constantly appears when you look into something instead of at it. Take a little time and search out what Morris Dees of The Southern Poverty Law center had to say about militias shortly before the Oklahoma City bombing. Take a look at how he takes credit for predicting militia involvement in terror activity. Keep looking and note the connections between Dees and Elohim City. Now look at the cat screech fever of the moment as Dees’s rails against militias again.

Read about the Missouri, “Modern Militia Movement” doc written for law enforcement and guess whose name appears once again? Note the recent appearance of militia concerns across the nation as reported in the MSM and by those whose agendas are served by creating a re-constituted boogeyman.

Think about all of the Halloween characters who are now dancing in your living room window. They dance on strings and they pop up out of boxes like demented Henson puppets. Welcome to the 24/7 all Fear Network. Switch the channel and spend some time at the all Disinfo Channel. Then you can scoot on over to the all Gosselin channel and hear the heart rending “Tale of the Tummy Tuck”.  I want the names of the people who made the decision to present us with this blood and shit spectacle.

I’ve given you some cause to think about at least one of the players here today. Real FBI evidence (snicker) is there to be seen and there’s a lot more where that came from.

The stage hands, gaffers and grips are hauling and hammering. The scene painters are busy. The time is approaching because the situation is not unlike where it was when The Segway Kid was right here in his first term. They are chatting up the perpetrators and the patsies are already with the makeup people. The financial climate and signs of social unrest are the perfect soil for the needs of the moment.

Let’s start naming names. Let’s start connecting the dots. For all of you in your living rooms there is a home version of our game in which you can play right along. Every time some talking head comes on the TV and immediately begins lying about something you are supposed to say, “Bullshit!” and then immediately inquire as to what is being said by not being said. In most cases you can assume the opposite of whatever you are told. When the president or one of his goblin posse starts talking, you say, “Bullshit!” Anytime some lamprey in a suit says anything, say, “Bullshit!” If your circumstances make that undesirable then think it out loud.

When you see senators and congressmen interrogating members of the Federal Reserve; Goldman Sachs or any other Swine Flu operation, you should remember that as soon as the program ends they will have their clothes off and be rolling around with each other in a gigantic sty filled with heated blood, oil and shit. When you see Randy Cunningham sent to prison you have to ask yourself if you know all there is to know about what happened there. Ask yourself who Randy pissed off.

The people who arranged for Janet Jackson’s tit to stage a prison break are having dinner with the people who wrote The Patriot Act. The people who gave you herpes of the mind are the same people selling you temporary relief.

These people are in an increasingly desperate state. Something they didn’t expect is now inside their heads telling them to expect a visit. In their arrogant desire to display their power before the Schmoos they have hung themselves out to dry on their own washing lines. This does not put them in a good mood. It’s that old cornered rat thing.

You have seen them screw up the world beyond all recognition but that is nothing compared to what they have in mind to save themselves and that’s not going to happen.

Alas… there are many among us who have opted to stay the course on Fantasy Island even after Doctor Moreau sets up his practice. There is little you can do about this. This is their choice. Don’t let it be your choice too.

Surfer Joe

The New Shangri-La

Of Cabbages and Klingon’s

Well, I followed the link at What Really Happened to Curt Maynard’s blog where he talks about this new search engine and how Google slights people by comparison. He lists a variety of writers whom I expect he is fond of and noted that the top guy had around 53,000,000 hits. I then did what anyone would do (grin), I put my own name into the search engine and lo and behold, I get 60,800,000 hits. Well, that made me feel good for about two minutes and also explained why the Guinness Records people contacted me the other day. Apparently, in my field, I make the least money with the widest exposure on the internet. Well, that made me feel bad for about two minutes and so it goes.

In any case, we’re not here to talk about me today. I actually have a blog for that with no posts of that sort resident. Let’s talk about the fall of The Empire and how uncanny it is the way it mirrors the conditions for the fall of Rome. Military adventurism is high on the list as a factor. It’s that grasp exceeding the reach thing as well as too much space between the supply wagons and so on and so forth.

They say that Rome wasn’t built in a day and it didn’t come down in a day either. Another factor in the fall of Rome was the debasement of the currency (sound familiar?) as well as high taxes on farmer’s outputs so that they stopped growing food.

It really is fascinating to see so many features mirrored in the long past and to reach the understanding that it has always been like this. That’s how it is on Planet Earth. That’s what we do. It’s as if the same reality play just repeats itself over and over and you wander into the jungle and you can see the stone heads of fallen kings whose names you never heard of covered in moss and flowering vines. A cobra hisses in the underbrush. It’s not a threat. It’s a warning of what awaits naked ambition and unbridled greed.

Every now and then someone criticizes me for being in Europe and not on the front lines in Babylon. I was on the front lines in Babylon for a long time. A warrior can retire and not have to go on and on until he fades away. A warrior can take a desk job. The thing is that I’m not big on excitement anymore. I like peace and quiet and the embrace of Nature. I’m sure it’s going to be spectacular when the whole thing implodes and crashes to the earth but I’m not interested. Some people like dangerous thrills and I’ve had my share without having to look for them all the time. Some people like the bright lights and the short dresses and the exotic mystery which you can go deeper and deeper into until it turns out to be nothing at all. Some people like to be tied up and spanked but I’ll pass on that too.

I just can’t get over the fact that so many people are pretending its all normal and it’s all going to get fixed in the mix by the usual experts who decide who gets what according to the theme of “Me first, you later… maybe.” Now, of course there are a lot of people who are upset but I suspect they are still in the minority yet. However, the dominos are rolling in slo-mo and sooner or later, critical mass is reached. It’s unavoidable. It’s in your face. It’s got Voice of the Theater speakers and yet… apparently it’s not happening. Or… is it like that search engine where the actual outrage is far more than what is being reported by the prostitutes in the main stream press? Is the whole thing simmering under the radar? Is the radar turned off or pointed at high end residential zones?

Of course there are already barbarians at the gate (this would not be PC if I named anyone, even though I don’t know anyone) but the most dangerous barbarians are the ones already inside the gates. They are camouflaged as solid citizens enjoying the fruits of materialism under the thin veneer of civilization. They are the people that go batshit when the conveniences stop working.

America has more people in prison than any country on Earth and some of the heaviest laws around. They hand out forty years and multiple life sentences for all kinds of things now like they were M&M’s. This is one of the considerations when the system goes down and I could see huge Road Warrior gangs on death cycles sweeping across the blasted landscape with “Born to be Wild” playing in their helmets. Well… they won’t be wearing helmets will they? That’s probably retro but… what do I know?

Maybe the country will break up into factions. The gays and the lesbians will have San Francisco and parts of Massachusetts. The Hispanics will take Texas and Arizona along with Southern Kali-fornia. The blacks will take the south along the eastern seaboard and a lot of abandoned cities. The whites will head for the center of the country and various and sundry will have their little outposts somewhere out of sight… for the moment.

Cannibalism will break out here and there. A spiritual master told me once that in the last days of a civilization this becomes rampant. I can see orc-like figures roasting strange meats on old refrigerator grills over flaming 55 gallon oil drums. The fire catches the red highlights of madness in their eyes. It’s going to be Escape from New York and 28 Days rolled up into one film with that whole zombie thing happening all the way through.

I don’t know what’s going to happen to the politicians and celebrities, the rich and powerful. They will probably have these small armies of mercenaries to protect them in their fortresses but… once the thing falls then loyalty goes out the window with the rule of law and there’s no reason why the private guards wouldn’t off their employers and just head off with the swag… or stay in the fortress.

There will be people on boats and maybe even small armies on former cruise ships. They’ll be moving along the coast looking for booty; in both senses of the word. I’ll probably be navel gazing in the Himalayas but then there’s the Chinese isn’t there?

Yes, of course it can get this bad. It has before and worse. Will it? I don’t know but it doesn’t make sense to be front row in Babylon when the firework display starts going off. I’ve already seen how quick people lose that patina of civilization to reveal the beast beneath. I read a study once that said if they turned off all the power in the cities that half the people would be dead in 3 days. That sounds absurd but… as I remember; they had a pretty good argument.

The fundies are going to be bouncing up and down like pogo sticks hoping that maybe that will jump start the rapture. The nights will be an interesting time. There will be screams and predatory cries. There will be explosions and the usual special effects in real life. I don’t know how much anyone actually cares. They are already doing this in Baghdad and other places and they don’t care about that. The people of Gaza and the West Bank are being systematically butchered by the IDF and beaten by the settlers which includes young children and not too many people seem to care about that either. They would rather twitter and exchange recipes on line because why would they want to trouble their beautiful minds?

They say what goes around comes around and some things are definitely coming around while the principals responsible are packing their bags for the next looting operation which will begin to rise as this one is falling. It’s some kind of a law of physics like a slow moving herpes outbreak. An infected area goes into remission and a new one surfaces. Its cultural sarcoma is what is …in D minor by Karposi.

I’m hoping there will be somewhere by a blue sea with dolphins and I can carry on like John Lilly but I suspect I would have to keep a weather eye out or maybe some of us will have fortresses too; very different kinds of fortresses and we will form alliances over time because there are always more good people than there are bad. I think.

Well… that was just a little stroll down Dark Fantasy Lane in search of that Spartacus Road that’s not adorned with slaves this time around.

I Love Country Music

Build Your Own Community

Leave Good Footprints- Cave Dei Videt.

Yesterday, Michael Rivero made the statement that he would no longer link to AP articles because links create traffic and he doesn’t feel like supporting that. Yes, AP is a collection of anonymous, informed sources that lie in support of the fascist intent of corporate world takeover. They’re a pack of whores and their employers are pimps in pinstripes.

This struck me and I realized that I have been unwittingly assisting in this ♫as time goes by♫, so I’m going to do what I usually do when I learn or understand something that I hadn’t known or understood before, I’m going to apply it. In this case I’m going to apply it across the board and take it several steps further by no longer linking to ‘any’ MSM news site again. I’ll just say I saw it in the MSM, you’ll have to look for it on your own

The way my mind works is that I reflexively eject most thoughts that come into my mind because they are looking for a free lunch at my expense. They want to feed at the well of my desire or longing by giving the impression that they are what I desire or long for. The thoughts that I do not eject are the ones that, for whatever reason, catch my attention and cause me to investigate them; why did they show up? Where did they come from? And… what are they trying to tell me?

Here is something I discovered a long time ago. When I look into something, I usually find something. Here is something I discovered more recently, there’s usually something underneath the initial discovery and something more underneath that and… so on and so forth. So when I look at something of interest now, I don’t stop with the surface acquisition. I keep studying and probing and… you know what? It seems to me that you can discover the secret of the universe in anything, if you just keep digging into any particular thing, until you discover its essential nature. That’s because the essential nature of anything is the essential nature of everything. You theoretical mathematicians with a metaphysical bent already know this. Everything real that we doubt, because we don’t know how to manipulate it, is proven in spades, if we could just learn that the passionate intensity of the surface and the bottomless depths are the same. It’s just a difference in perspective.

Ergo… all truths are connected somewhere and all lies are too. A firm focus of inquiry into any lie causes it to reveal its inconsistency and disappear. A firm focus of inquiry into any truth causes it to appear and reveal its quality.

I’m going to leave this area of mind play now and try to say in plain terms what I came here to say this morning. I can already feel some people’s eyes glazing over and some are asking themselves why this isn’t at Visible Origami instead of simmering here in the Petri Dish. So…

…what Michael said got me thinking deeper into the thing and I realized that in my efforts to speak the truth there are times, no doubt, when I am dragging engines of disinformation along with me as object examples of what is not the truth and sometimes using them as evidence of something, when… these engines of disinformation never told the truth at any time even when it looks to us like they did.

This got me thinking that I ought to turn my lens of inquiry upon myself when I go about the business of passing on information because, the odds are, I’m not right all the time and that means I’m casting some amount of shadow in my passage in pursuit of the light. I was thinking that this is how it always gets back to what it was after awhile. A whole lot of people set out to speak the truth and live correctly. The passionate exuberance of youth finds us dreaming of our careers as doctors and lawyers, policemen and politicians, where we make a difference in the world but… the majority wind up doing exactly what their predecessors did before them. It starts with little corruptions and sooner or later, self interest, along with ease and expediency are driving the car.

Every generation finds out what their antecedents discovered. They all make deals with the darkness. It is the rare individual that hangs in there at the loss of what everyone else sold out for. This poor fool who won’t make the necessary accommodations, now becomes an embarrassment to everyone who did make accommodations …and a pain in the ass to the bankers and merchants that own everyone else’s ass. The next thing you know is that someone is muttering, “Will no one free me of this troublesome priest?”

I mentioned how most of the thoughts that enter our mind are just looking for a free lunch. It also serves that once they get that lunch they will be back for dinner and the following day’s breakfast. They get larger ♫as time goes by♫ and some of them come to require all your efforts just to feed them and this is how people get old in a hurry and wind up spending their lives to accommodate entities that mean them no good.

All the alternatives media eventually becomes the MSM. All the successful efforts to drive out corruption eventually become generators of corruption. Every nation based on the concept of personal liberty eventually turns into a state of tyranny. This is because of the compromises and adjustments they all make once they’ve become trusted institutions and they work that trust all the way to the point where no one trusts them anymore. That’s called success.

This was my intent in not having any advertising; not trading links (even though people get mad at me and think I’m a jerk), not playing footsie with larger alternative media and being dropped by many after it became clear that our brief courtship was not going to result in my dropping my pants and I wound up being linked at the same two larger sites I started out with.

The prosecuting district attorney nails the bad guys and then gets nailed because he was nailing prostitutes; getting setup by agents of the folks he nailed on his way to wherever it was he finally didn’t arrive at. The political priest moves up in the ranks and then slides his hands down into the pants of the innocents he was charged with protecting. If you want a relatively crime free society then you have to be aware of the criminal elements and manage them but you had better manage them inside yourself to begin with.

The people being screwed the most at the moment are the people who played by the rules and the people doing most of the screwing are the people who perverted the rules for their own enterprises and spend their time praising and enforcing virtues they never possessed to begin with. This is how come full time profligates spend all their time preaching about continence and abstinence and laughing at the one’s who take them seriously because they hung the ‘free lunch’ sign in their minds the moment they realized it was a lot less work to pretend to be something instead of actually doing it. They praise industry and savings while they offshore the one and loot the other.

There’s no way this system survives because it has RUN ITS TERM. This is something you need to know. This isn’t something you fix, because it was broken to begin with. The best we can hope for is an increase in the exposure and prosecution of the criminals (and that is in progress) while we build something new out of the ashes. It won’t mean anything though unless it really is something new and it won’t get anywhere unless we build it into ourselves in the first place and remember that quote about ‘eternal vigilance being the price of liberty’.

No man becomes a slave who did not sell himself into servitude in the first place …and all because he thought he wanted something he found out he didn’t want, shortly after he got it. It tastes like ashes because it is composed of ashes; the burned out fruits of misinformed desire.

We’re coming up on the denouement and we’re going to be sitting in judgment of ourselves. It would have been nice if more of us had tumbled to the reality of that a long time ago.

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