Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Dog Poet Transmitting.......
“If voting made a difference, it would be illegal (Mark Twain). I guess we can ask George to comment on the matter. It seems to me we have a choice every four years between sold out dickhead number one and sold out dickhead number two. It's like that Mexican firefighter who named his twins A: Jose and Hose B. Jesus, Visible, that is not politically correct. Uh huh... and neither is Visible. I find myself going out of my way not to be politically correct on purpose, which is a kind -zero sum game. Then there are the Rothschilds. You can find out anything these days.
Here is the thing about bankers. They deal with numbers and that means that human life is just a cipher. Nothing is so rare as a banker's tears. People talk about the devil and they talk about god but they understand neither. Talk is the origin of the wind and as we should note, it blows all around us. The devil is God, as he is seen by the wicked. There is only one force that aspects itself according to the desires and perceptions of the one engaging it. You have to understand that it is all about you. Everything is based on how you see it and interpret and label it; according to that is your world made what it is. The term 'ayin' is translated as 'the eye'. It is also the term that refers to The Devil card in Tarot. This should make one aware of the power of appearances and the fact that they are a lie and conceal the light behind the darkness of their obscuring force.
I don't know much but I think the few things I do know are of cardinal importance, at least they are for me. There are millions of things that I have no curiosity about and that is because some things are primary, some things are secondary and then tertiary and so on and so on. For myself, I care only about those things that will bring me closer to the ineffable. Everything else is garbage to me.
I do not fear governments or the power of deluded religions. I do not fear any power or force in this world. What I fear is to displease my author. I am only here for a little while. I may well be in other environs for a good deal longer. Of course, time is relative. It takes longer to pass in one place than it does another. Time is different in a prison cell than it is in a day at the beach. One might presume the same applies to Heaven and Hell. Then again, both of these exist in the mind. There are locations where there is no time at all. Time is a great deal like gravity. Both of these will eventually make you bent over in your passage and possibly assisted by a cane.
Let us quote Lord Byron from Don Juan;
“Who hold the balance of the world? Who reign
O’er congress, whether royalist or liberal?
Who rouse the shirtless patriots of Spain? [*]
(That make old Europe’s journals squeak and gibber all.)
Who keep the world, both old and new, in pain
Or pleasure? Who make politics run glibber all?
The shade of Buonaparte’s noble daring? —
Jew Rothschild, and his fellow-Christian, Baring.
Those, and the truly liberal Lafitte,
Are the true lords of Europe. Every loan
Is not a merely speculative hit,
But seats a nation or upsets a throne.
Republics also get involved a bit;
Columbia’s stock hath holders not unknown
On ‘Change; and even thy silver soil, Peru,
Must get itself discounted by a Jew.”
It's what it is. People can argue about the matter from one pole to another but the truth is what it is and why it winds up beaten, bloody and alone in an alley. People that argue have reasons for their position. Sometimes they are paid. Sometimes they are in fear and sometimes they are confused but history has long recorded the reality. The beauty of the truth is that it does not mind being beaten or abused through whatever medium it has chosen to express itself in. It lives forever. I daresay, very little else does besides Love. Ergo... Love of The Truth seems to be, to me, the greatest pursuit of all.
We've said here many times, when the truth takes off her clothes, the world disappears. Please file that thought for a more lengthy consideration. We don't seem to have the time or initiative to pursue important thoughts. The world is too much with us. We labor under intensities of force from conning towers very similar to cell phone towers, where subliminal messages come into our subconscious every day. The good news is that god is in charge and if you incline that way, you will be alright; regardless of whether you live or die. Residence here is temporary in any case. It is what you do here and what you are here that marks the itinerary of your passage onward.
Let us say you wind up in Columbus Ohio and you have a stay over; which translates into a lifetime. That is not the best place I can imagine to spend your time but what you do while you are there will account for where you get manifested into following after, whether that be a cockroach in a west Philly tenement or a rat into Baltimore's version of Chinatown, or somewhere so filled with light that you can hardly see for awhile. The thing is that this is really in your hands. No matter where you are, you do your best. It might seem like it is not enough but it is not the world you have to please, or even yourself. You have to please the one who put you in a position to do your best.
All over this world there are some number of people who are doing their best. Some of the greatest heroism and sacrifice goes unnoticed. Some of the greatest service occurs under the radar. As much as we have lost hope in this world, there are many who have not lost hope, who are not caught in the thrall and madness of confused desire. Though we are separated by distance and sometimes by variations on a theme, we are conjoined in our common goal to be free. We help each other with every small act of awareness in the moment. We are what we do and we do as we think and feel and that... according to what influences us. For myself, regardless of my human error, I rise every day in the hope that I might suddenly... and one day it will be true... be a better person; serving more tirelessly and purpose-filled than ever before.
In the end... as in the beginning... every little thing counts. Every opportunity in every day is another chance to outdo yourself, given all the failures of the past. It's kind of like that poem, The Hound of Heaven. It's too long and at times, self indulgent but I'll just post the opening lines-
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat--and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet--
"All things betray thee, who betrayest Me."
I think the last line says everything I would say were I capable.
Beamed from the Saucer Pod By Visible at 17:09
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Dog Poet Transmitting.......
There are some fine writers out there that combine the finesse of precise articulation, honesty and courage combined. There are not many of them, of course ...but there are some and this is one of them. We haven't mentioned Mr. Apocalypse recently. What I would like to assure the reader of is this... Mr. Apocalypse is real and Mr. Apocalypse is coming and he is coming like the second coming, within the being of those of us, fortunate and unfortunate enough to live in these times. The second coming is coming in our hearts and Mr. Apocalypse is coming in our minds. It's like one of those dual threats on the football field like Rob Gronkowski and Martellus Bennett are going to be, only this qualifies as a dual blessing on the playing field of life. The avatar is bringing the light of enduring love up through the deep and hidden chambers of the heart and Mr. Apocalypse is playing that divine calypso rhythm on the sounding board of the human mind. It is what it is and if you can't see that by now you cannot be accused of being an early bloomer.
There are some bad people out there and you can call them misguided or deceived. I call them someone to be pitied or someone I am grateful to for not having to be them and to play that role. There are quite a few names, certainly George Soros is near the top of the list, even if he is a Rothschild buttboy, he is fully committed but... at that point you have to be committed or they won't use you; regardless of their deception, creations like Morgan Stanley, Rio Tinto and others, they were all committed. I sometimes see them as ranks upon ranks of doom bound lost souls in three piece suits marching in formation with the understanding that it is worth it in the short term to suffer in the long term and this gives new meaning to the vocation of hedge fund manager, or junk bond junkie. There are sharks in the water but there are bigger sharks around and Leviathan ain't no rookie when it comes to swallowing things whole.
I have to admit that I am stunned more often than not at what people buy into without giving it a second thought. I doubt even Leviathan could swallow some of these things whole but they do. However, Mr Apocalypse is on the set and if you can't see the humor in so much of this, no one will ever accuse you of being an early bloomer. If you can't see that all these vain- 'me first, you later, maybe...' false self loving dilettantes are being set up in a long con, then no one can accuse you of seeing what is right in front of your eyes. It reminds me of all the people that throw away the singly most important thing they possess and who also insist that a garbage filled empty lot is just that, instead of a great opportunity. We're all empty lots as far as that goes. If we only knew the difference between weeds and flowers and understood too that it is usually what we call weeds that have the greatest medicinal powers. There is good to be found everywhere, depending on your ability to see it. Welcome to Samskara Land. It's not just terrorists that make you wear a blindfold, especially when it is of your own creation.
I used to have a lot of friends, then it turned into an Agatha Cristie thing with somewhat less than Ten Little Indians. Real friends are hard to come by and friends with benefits even harder to come with... but when you get to my age you stop thinking like that or you will soon be dead or wish you were; in any case, what do I know? Maybe Hunter Thompson actually did kill himself.
Let's face it folks, the guys who do these things have crafted it into a science by this time. Of course, I work in an industry with limited face time. It is not like anyone is paying attention to the fact that Israel did 9/11 or that I have been saying it since I had acne; even though I never did; must be good genes, if you think that having your progenitor as a Macon dirt farmer who never got out of 6th grade is something to brag about. Well... all it takes is a good PR company but you still have to be able to afford it.
So... now we are hearing about the Saudi's again. Guess who is behind that? Well... I declare, it's Chuckie Schumer. Well, my goodness, I just have to see that Lite Beer commercial with Amy Schumer and Seth Rogan again; even though I have yet to see it in the first place. I wouldn't call either of them lite. Then again, when your ass is for sale, nothing is off the table. Aren't Rogan and Schumer both Pentecostals? I digress.
Right... right... quakes in Ecuador, far more numerous but of a lower wattage; quakes in Japan. I am guessing that the pollution went up high enough to warrant taking out Japan. Can I get a brace of Akitas before that happens? Could this be visible's idea of a spiritual Nibiru? I am probably digressing all over the map but that could also be the reason you haven't seen a posting in awhile. Occasionally I do lose my way, but at least I was headed somewhere in the first place.
Now... if my calculations are right, something is up in a big way. The only way to suppress a revolution is to confuse the people driven to it. Of course, divide and conquer is not a new concept. You would think, after all this time, that people would catch on ...but in a country where Beyonce's crotch thrusting can be confused with a statement about The Black Panthers, it should make you think. This is not Kant's 'Critique of Pure Reason' that we are talking about here. It's not even a fireside chat where Schopenhauer is mentoring Nietzsche. Apparently clear reasoning always leads to passionate reaction at some point. Am I digressing again? It is always possible.
I'm guessing that people are either lost in space about the dialectic or mostly comfortable about having shit served to them warm. Me... being who I am and not having more than an elusive clue about who (whom?) that is. Is it just me or is it getting warm in here? When you are really schizo and someone tells you to get a room, you all go. Group rates? Forgetaboutit. This is where season passes become relevant. I would really like to do something about the Dali Lama's Rolex. I'd like to melt it down and pour it over his head like that wild horseman did over the head of the brother of the Dragon Lady in Game of Thrones but... more digression.
Then again, you can sit in the front row of Eckhart Toll Booths lecture if you don't mind spending a few hundred bucks to listen to elementary hypnotics and look good around Ken and Barbie. What do you think Tavistock would charge me to learn how to do that? They would have to pay me a fuck lot more to go through it. Is it just me or is it getting warm in here? I would like to think it is the result of romance in the air but I suspect foul play. Well, I'm not going to hold it against Robert Cray. After all, he wrote this too.
But I digress. We are at the turning of the age. It is not my fault and it is not yours either. I am thinking about my friend Liz from LA. It kills me that there is nothing I can do. There is little I can do in so many situations and believe me... situations are coming. You will be horrified, shocked and delighted by what is coming, depending on your disposition. In the long run, it all works out. It might take awhile but it all works out.
I miss a few people... probably more than you think but in this hour of dread and uncertainty... in the early hours before dawn when I come into consciousness fully awake and I sit there looking at the terrible specter of my own face in the mirror of my mind, I think about all those great souls that I have known in this life and I just keep being inspired., I keep pushing on as I surely should. For all of you out there who feel like I do, don't let them get you down. And say a prayer for Liz and all of us facing an unknown dawn, of awakening and awareness. As many times as my heart has been broken, I never seem to learn. It is kind of like being a ten year old kid. I just don't seem to get it and by the time I do, somehow it is later than I think.
In any case, to paraphrase Bilbo, I love twice as many of you more than you think and less than half of you as well as you deserve.
Beamed from the Saucer Pod By Visible at 14:19
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Dog Poet Transmitting........
I would have to say, as is usually the case with most things manifesting out of the smoke filled boardrooms of Satan; "I don't know." I only feel atmospheres but atmospheres on the material plane, all have some degree of smoke, mist, or funny reflections in warped mirrors. It is the nature of the times; deception is everywhere. You hear one thing. It means something else and behind that is something else and eventually you come to Babylon astride the Beast.
Mark Glenn is a warrior for the right side of things. At least that has been my experience of his work. He is articulate and possesses finesse and an admirable depth of thought. I haven't had much interaction (none at all actually) over recent years but due to the widening gyre, things do fall apart and have been doing so more and more in these times of dispersion and dissension. In any case, due to an associate of his, I was sent this article and it has given me cause for thought. I hadn't put it together anything like that but I am a babe in the woods when it comes to the understanding of what these people get up to.
I don't know if these things are true or not but I can't argue with the writer's logic. From my place of observation, all of these front men and women are liars and not to be trusted but it could well be the result of my not getting it. From my place of observation, nothing less than a spontaneous revolution in the human heart and a dawning awareness upon the captive, collective mind is going to have any real, any positive, or any lasting effect and that can only be accomplished through the will of the ineffable and the appearance of the avatar into the slipstreams of human thought. This is all I have been able to come up with.
I recognize that my kind of thinking and the conclusions I come to are not expressions of the general trend of thought in a time of dense materialism but it is what I am left with
I read an article about Trump recently where someone was questioning his foreign policy acumen and the person responding from the campaign said that, on the contrary, Trump meets weekly with his advisers and policy wanks (or is that 'wonks'?) and experts from Stink Tanks who inform him about what is what, according to the agenda of the Stink Tank. What most people don't get about Stink Tanks is that they are put together to come to certain conclusions over and over, regardless of the real facts. They adjust the facts, they shape the facts, to suit the points they want to make and big money is behind most of these Stink Tanks. They are like NGO's and Super Pox. Super Pox is not like Small Pox, it is much bigger and more pernicious and it doesn't just scar your face, it scars your soul.
We used to have a song lampooner who came around here. He was pretty good. He could take that Pretenders tune; “Back on the Chain Gang” and do something like “Back in the Stink Tank” ( uh ah... uh ah...)
Bat Shit Crazy is a pandemic. Read this. Read it carefully and observe how the words are formed to the ends which they are directed. Note that this is Stanford University. The whole world is under siege at the moment from agents of The Bat Shit Crazy Brigade. They seem to be everywhere but they are not. There are pockets of normalcy all over. Of course, normalcy is a PC no no and you have to conceal this trait if you want to get along in many places, like at universities, large companies, in politics and here and there... here and there.
It is unlikely that anyone is allowed anywhere near the political arena unless they are owned, one way or another. Sometimes they are only owned by their own pride and arrogance, or vanity; that plays a bigger role than most people might thing but not as big a role as self interest. Self interest is at the heart of political ambition and always has been.
I am sure, it is true, as it is true in medical schools and law schools that there are all kinds of fresh and shining faces; minds filled with the prospect of idealistic enterprise on behalf of the needy and less fortunate. The same is true of politics at the inception of one's entry but... that soon gets washed out of them and I have seen it over and over. Arrangements and deals are at the core of politics and you get nowhere without quid pro quo.
Of course, exceptions occur and I celebrate that but the nature of the world is that few pass the tests upon their humanity that weed out the sincere from those corrupted by the process. That's all going to change at some point in the not too distant future, circumstances will demand it. See... here's the thing. When a person is going wrong, or a nation is going wrong, it is unlikely that it will suddenly, out of the blue go right. The same applies to a culture. When a culture is headed into Bat Shit Crazy Country it is not going to suddenly find itself in the middle of the bat shit and, washed in guano, rise like the dead on judgment day and soar into the heavens as if they were right all along. They weren't and they won't. What it is is 'purpose of demonstration'. We are in the times of 'purpose of demonstration' and that is a metaphor for judgment day.
There are all kinds of Bat Shit Crazy and this is one of them. Sometimes Bat Shit Crazy comes about through contagion and sometimes it is genetic. On certain medical forms they ask you if any member of your family ever went bat shit. As far as I know, I am the only member of my family to exhibit symptoms that the bat shit crazy consider crazy. I'm not sure if that is an example of 'really' crazy or sane ...but unrecognizably so because Bat Shit Crazy is the new sane.
If you are watching then you know what I mean. The problem with the truth, or- should I say; the major problem with the truth is that it takes you places you wish you didn't have to go. This is one of the reasons that people don't go. The truth does not take you where you want to go, or where it is convenient for you to go. It takes you to the truth and the truth is the enemy of darkness and disorder, unless the truth is about the exposure of the agents of darkness and disorder and that, of course, makes it the enemy of them anyway. The truth does not seek to be the enemy of anything. It just happens.
Caravans cross the world in all directions. The caravan of truth goes in only one direction, no matter what direction it goes in and there are always dogs barking as the caravan moves on. These are not real dogs, although dogs do bark at caravans; at least that is what certain poets have said. These are more those 'dog in the manger' types. They are not going into the manger but... they are not going to let you go in either. These dogs are often angry because they know that you are going where they fear to go. They are angry at what your journey tells them about themselves. They are angry that you are still around when you shouldn't be because they live in fear of a mortality they cannot escape but imagine they will and they don't understand how you can still be around having walked into the unknown and back again. This unknown is the unknown country of the self and it terrifies those who fear the discovery that awaits. There is no kinder nor profitable return on existence than to walk this road, or ride in that caravan.
Somehow, Love and truth are inextricably woven together, as are all of the qualities of the ineffable that radiate upon and through each other in some mystical manner and out of which the real world precipitates into the consciousness of those who seek to dwell there. It is unfortunate that so many are content to live in Bat Shit Crazy land and pretend they like it and hope that the darker angels of feral recognition do not see them, or that in the lottery of life and death, their number does not come up but... it always does, sooner or later. To live in fear is no life at all.
So many of us are dead long before death claims us. We fall into repeating loops of expression and nothing new happens except for the inevitable that awaits the fearful and falsely committed to whatever distractions are employed to deter one from the uncertainty of transformative change; change which is the cornerstone of eternity and out of which immortality is achieved. Change renders us unrecognizable to our former selves, again and again and again, as we rise into the image of our own glorious being. which has forever been guiding those who give a shit and are not bat shit. There are other forms of madness that are inescapable for those who aspire to that truth, which they are ...and which lies hidden under a material cloak. One can be blind and still see quite well. Sometimes a particular blindness confers a sight that is routinely unknown in the worlds of darkness where so many think they can see and cannot see.
Beamed from the Saucer Pod By Visible at 19:22