Dog Poet Transmitting.......
When historians look back on this time of the most pervasive corruptions at all levels of society, one name will stand as the icon above all the rest. That name will be Goldman Sachs. Lloyd Blankfein’s comment about doing God’s work will also be remembered as the ultimate in hubris and sheer naked, panting greed. Like the proverbial goat, which pisses all over himself in the runaway excitement of pending coitus, Lloyd will be a karmic bookmark and the face of his times; a man without shame. Lloyd is the bridegroom at the marriage of The Whore of Babylon.
I saw this coming in the eighties when the greed is good generation began to hit Wall Street, everyone was snorting cocaine and buying $2,000 bottles of wine for lunch just because they could. It was a time of excess and turbo powered self interest. Reagan was the perfect marionette dancing to the music of the corporations. He closed most of the mental institutions and overnight poor people could no longer afford to pay their rent because rents mysteriously went up considerably in those neighborhoods. The tragedy of America’s homeless was born; millions of people sleeping in tent cities; under bridge abutments, in the woods, in their cars, in the subways and wherever they could find someplace to be.
The irony is as pungent as a roadside carcass after a week in the sun. One might say that the mythic American Dream is now a roadside carcass along with all the vaunted ideals that were no more than lip service to the badly veiled motives of the criminal class, who have hijacked the country, while they parade around dressed in the flag and knee deep in the blood of their victims.
Lloyd Blankfein is emblematic of this fast evolving plague of sociopaths in suits. His associates in the firm, past and present, are welded like ticks on a hog to every part of the system. They are the real government and as their confidence in their control grows, they no longer even care to hide themselves. They’re shit golems that look one way to themselves and another to everyone else. They’re on their way to walking with Marley’s ghost for a long, long time and it can’t come soon enough.
I’ve heard people saying that this investigation into Goldman Sachs is a put up job, designed to muddy the waters and hose them off at the same time. Yet, what are we to make of the criminal probe that is now under way? That’s a bit of a mystery and I have said it many times and no doubt will have to say it many times more. There’s a joker in the deck somewhere. Events are proceeding on one level, as the apparent reality, while something much more real is marching alongside.
Some websites don’t like to link to my work because of my attributing so much to actions of the divine. We live in a time of cold pragmatics. The slow crash of the world’s religious institutions seems like some kind of proof that there is no divine agency as if a man lying is proof that there’s no such thing as truth. Just because religion has turned into a mockery of what it purports to represent does not mean there’s no God. I know, beyond a shadow of doubt, that the divine is more real than anything in this world by direct experience many times over.
On and on it goes. It becomes more outrageous and indefensible with every day but they still march on toward some dreadful epiphany. I am in awe of their foul confidence in themselves. These are the success stories of our times? Success appears to be measured by how many lives are ruined on the way to personal enrichment. We have come to the place where we now glorify deception and injury as inspired business practice.
Through all of these outrages and criminal acts, the American people wander like sleepwalkers in a carnival of funhouse mirrors. What is reflected back to them is not what they are. They have no idea of what they are and so they have sacrificed all of the higher virtues for a false identity that makes a joke out of their humanity. They’ve become sick tired clowns with nothing more to offer than to be figures of amusement for people like Blankfein. They shear them and gut them and laugh while they do it. There’s no exaggeration here. It’s exactly what it is.
There’s a real question to be asked about the composition of this fog; this state of unconscious dreaming that envelops such a large portion of the population. Why are some of us immune to this? I wonder about this often but can’t really get a fix on what it is. I think a large part of it is that people do not want to see the truth because it gets in the way of their self-interest and this is the time of ubiquitous self interest, driven by the preeminence of materialism on all sides. The common mind is magnetized by glittering dust. It’s one of the primary illusions of the unawakened mind. Looking outward in any direction, the dream is the prevailing reality. Looking inward is that uncharted territory of the self and every revelation that comes devalues some portion of the dream, until the dream has no value at all.
This is the power that vampires like Blankfein possess. They are the artful deceivers who purvey the magnetized dust to the unawakened mind and shallow hearts of those whose affections are reserved for magnetized dust. They are the image of success in the dreaming world. They are what you want to be but are not allowed to become. These vampires carrot and stick you all the way to the grave but you are the walking dead long before the hour of your departure. They suck you dry.
Because this condition is beyond the power of the enslaved to end or to alter, cosmic force is required to effect the awareness that is the preface for change. Mysterious forces work beneath the scenery to bring about the changes and conditions necessary for awareness to be born. Like any birth in this realm, it comes with suffering and blood. It’s coming now. It’s being generated by The Director and his angels. It’s turning everything to its own uses while the various players imagine they are at the controls. Boot camp is coming to an end and the time of reckoning approaches. Whatever you have invested your time and attention into will be your harvest.
It’s been made pretty clear in the spiritual texts of all faiths. One can be liberated on their deathbed if they will hold the image and name of the master in their thoughts at the end. I have read variations on this in all of the traditions. Right this moment, as events head toward Wackville, there is a conning tower on the ideal plane which is broadcasting into the one shared mind of which we are all a part. One needs to listen closely and come to an understanding that the dream is not real and neither are any of the powers that men like Blankfein think they possess.
The more I see of the woven complexity of this time, the less I know. So many things that I thought would have happened by now have not happened. It is as if the world were hanging on the lip of an enduring moment that continues to extend without any indication of actual change. All sorts of little and larger events take place but none of them have changed much in the day to day. Survival and a comfortable level of living are being tested around the world, as people find their resources to be so much less than they were before, but the big shoe from the hidden world of forces has not yet hit the Earth.
I no longer project what I think will happen according to how I reason out what I see. I don’t have a clue and that is as it should be. Coming to understand and to see that I don’t know is the purpose at the heart of the matter. One thing I do know is that it is not in the hands of men like Blankfein and I feel certain they are going to see and experience this in a real and powerful way. They’re going to get the meaning of ‘blind, lame and ignorant’ as each of us are revealed to ourselves as what we are.
This is the longest and most fractured calm before the storm that I have ever seen. I understand that this is the year when it begins to show itself to one and all. It is my fervent hope for you that you like what you see or are prepared to adjust yourself accordingly.
'My Pickup Truck got Pregnant' is track no. 1 of 10 on Visible's eponymous
'Les Visible' Music Album
Lyrics (pops up)
Petri Dish Mirror.