Wednesday, January 14, 2015

The Fundi-Gumbi's and the Hoodoo Cowboys.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Slow it goes in the cutting edge West. Delay follows delay and they are attended by difficulties that spring up out of virtual ground like some invasive species, although, we well know, they are most certainly generic to these locales. More on all that later. Let us now turn our gaze to the doings of the day; brought to you and carefully orchestrated by the same people who have been the Hoodoo Cowboys for a good long spell.

I haven't seen much news. Mostly I have seen passing foliage and artificial landscapes, where everything is for sale, including the people buying them. The former is available at outrageously inflated costs and the latter is as undervalued in the marketplace as it is in the minds of those poor souls on the auction block. I tend to think that when it occurs to anyone to sell their soul to the devil, for the general few reasons that anyone might be inclined to do so, it is already immediately forfeit and of no negotiable value. This fact eludes those so motivated and Old Scratch just plays along cause that be what he do.

Anyway... I note where some alleged Muslim extremists broke into an intelligence operation disguised as a magazine and killed a dozen or so provocateurs. Why provocateurs? Let us paint a small example, even if it is irrelevant to what actually happened. Let's say you go and get yourself a sharp stick and then you head over to the dumpsters in Yellowstone and... you wait until the bears show up and then you go over to them and start jabbing them in the ass with the pointed end of the stick. What do you think might be the result of that? So... if you are a committed dumbass with no common sense, you publicly insult elements of a militant religion by slandering and defaming their founding prophet. Were what the press, that is owned by the people who actually did this, actually true, I would not want anyone thinking I defend such activity. I've no use for Fundie-Gumbi's or their bizarre beliefs. On the other hand, I am not one to throw out the baby with the bathwater; interpret that however you will.

I think we can agree that the Paris magazine hit was put together by the same cabal of Zionists and Satanists that do pretty much everything else we run into. It must be said over and over and over again; nothing transformative, in a positive way, will take place ...until the international bankers and moneychangers are rendered harmless by any means necessary.

There is a hypocritical howl thundering across the European Union about 'freedom of speech. This was initiated by those owning the press and who take all the freedom and license they wish by lying without exception through all of the days and nights of present infamy. If freedom of the press held any importance for these people, would Dieudonne be getting put through what he is getting put through? There is no freedom of the press. There are only the liberties taken by those perverting the medium for their own agendas and profit.

The victims at Charlie Hedbo, at least some portion of them, got exactly what they deserved. It doesn't matter whether what is true about the tale of what happened is what they say it was, or whether the lie being circulated is the lie that it is. Either they were sticking a pointed stick in a hungry bears ass or... they were consciously employed by monsters who eat their young, your young or anyone in reach. The remaining possibility that some were simply too stupid to have any idea concerning the meaning of any of this, is also justification enough for whatever happened to them.

It's a simple matter, as it always is, or can be, for those not objectively challenged. You look to see who benefits and that tells you who did it. Some might say that is an awfully wide net, visible; what about chance and coincidence. Well, personally I don't believe in either one of those impostors.

It has been weird being here where I am for these last 3= weeks. I'd taken some number of trips in Europe while there and though there were shades of difference, nothing was that dramatic but... here? Here is another ball of wax; maybe not wax at all but something viscous and in suspension, with glittering confetti that shines for the purpose of distraction and the ground has no traction. You slide forwards. You slide backwards. You slide to the side in a slip sliding away construct and you see them by the sides of the road, those who have not been capable of negotiating the pressures and demands of maintaining your place. Holes dot the shoulder and you occasionally see a head bobbing here and there. Sand... or perhaps it is volcanic matter, comes tossed in streamers to the surface. One woman in the dune after another in that endless act of bailing and for every handful tossed, another slides down in replacement.

Everything is affected by everything and everything affects everything so... we are where we are by the virtue or vice of our particular relationship to it; whatever 'it' is. Somewhere outside the range of normal sight, is a widely scattered army of automated men and women bearing wide stir paddles. They stir in a related sequence to one another. They send out waves into the entirely of the total in synchronicity with one another and from this comes all the events and conditions that we must negotiate our way through and around AND... in every case money determines motive. Money determines force and capacity. Therefore, in seeking who and what, we have only to study who prints the money. But... I am incomplete in my prospectus here. The shine and substance of money are only all powerful in the landscape of money. There are other environments and given that this is all something interpenetrated by differing dimensions and states of being that can be as dissimilar to one another as fire and ice, there are many, many possibilities of station and action. Because of this, even in the landscape of money, money is not always in charge. It is only how it looks and this brings us as ever it does to the truth that appearances are a lie. Appearances deceive, here in the dreaming streets of powerful magnetisms. These magnetisms each bring some variation of sleep. Some sleep deeply and some are caught in vivid dream but the final reality is that sleep is ever sleep and dreams are only dreams. Both have a defining end and that is awakening and the quality of awakening determines the value of every sleep and every dream. Our personal destiny is locked into whatever the scales of judgment tell us is the value and the cost of our sleep and our dreams.

There are no terrorists other than manufactured terrorists and they all take their marching and maiming orders from whoever prints the money. The near inescapable press of the press, attended by the calculated forming of what passes for art and music, along with every other entertainment, or what lacks in entertainment and serves as punishment and furthering deception for those going in the wrong direction... is to no good end. What do you do when you are born into it like a spider wrapped pod in The Matrix? You dream you are one place when you are in another and you can't ever wake up in the same place you are dreaming in. This makes every aspect of whatever dream you dance in meaningless. It means nothing, any of it. How does that make you feel? Yet... on we go, treading water and going nowhere because of generated currents and manufactured crisis points, designed to shake up all complacency and order. Someone said something about 'order out of chaos'. Is that what it is? I don't think so.

My friends, this vague and reaching work of the moment is what I have for you today. Things move very slowly here and short of a working integration, one must make do as one can, with what the moment dictates or provides. There is much that is good here and much that is, as yet, unregistered and unknown. We move as we can and are still when needs be. Hopefully we can soon be able to produce with a greater consistency. In the meantime we are doing the best we can.

Digression; for some time, people have been telling me I have been removed from the Rense website. I guess it must be true. I haven't gone by there because that is how I am made but the drop in visitors and the lack of response to any of my inquiries should be convincing enough. I've never been summarily erased without given cause and no explanation. Maybe it's just a continuation of this steady stream of good fortune that has been afflicting me for years now. Sometimes, the planetary rub is so good to me I can hardly stand it (grin).

End Transmission.......

We hope to have a radio show this weekend.

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