Monday, November 26, 2012

Stop Me, Before I write about the Same Thing Again

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Every now and then; well, actually several times on each and every day, you run across individuals (and groups as well), hopefully at a distance, who epitomize the very worst expressions, of what are definitely not human beings ...but which attempt to pass for one. Such an example can be found here, in a location where a great many similar, cretinous and poisonous snakes can be found, any time the doors are open for business. This individual, whose components can be found on the bottom of your shoe, should you be inattentive, while walking through a dog run in any urban park, looks like what he is; a real life slime ball of gargantuan proportions. This crocodile swine should be publicly guillotined on some Fox network, reality show. People should print out this photo and get creative with it. This photo needs to be circulated. It needs to be printed on rolls of toilet paper and dispensed from holders in the House of Lords. These are the privileged elite, 'to the manor born', they should be stripped naked and whipped down the streets of London, on their way to a memorial lamppost, there to be displayed for public viewing, hanging there till they rot and the stink wafts for blocks, exemplifying the stench they carried with them through their life. Oh right, the guillotine.

Here's why we are afflicted with these types in these times. Who could imagine a Harvard Law Professor putting the word 'asshole' in the title of a book? Who could imagine him quoting Kant and Rousseau at the same time, in a book entitled “Assholes, a Theory”. Anyone missing the irony here is probably unfamiliar with the works of these authors. I'll leave the uncanny inclusion of Hobbs for the entertainment of any of our resident pseudo-intellectuals. Speaking of assholes, how about this grand prize winner? How come he didn't get the Nobel Peace Prize?

Back in the day, I used to fantasize about my Playboy interview. This is back when I still thought I had a shot at some kind of routine celebrity and I would think about the clever, insightful and controversial things I could say. It was not a large jump from there to getting the Nobel Prize for literature. To show you how dense I was at the time, I thought that prize was a distinct honor. Now, as the years have passed and one asshole after another got a Nobel Prize, many of which were slanted to Tribe members in pursuit of legitimacy; a goal that will never be attained, I view all of these things differently. Ignominy awaits these miscreants and big changes are in the wind and here's a second wind on that. Apparently Obama has tumbled to the reality of his pending assassination, at the hands of those who killed Kennedy and also did 9/11, among all kinds of other things. I use this particular link, out of all of those available because of the entertaining commentary in the thread. These things have all been made possible by the abject stupidity, greed and capacity for mindless frenzy on the part of the Mr. Potatohead contingent, proliferating through western culture, which by this time should be on a glass slide, or in a Petri Dish and... what do you know? Here we are. Well, it's not all bad news; next paragraph-

It is my considered opinion that in cloistered confines, in the halls of power, around the world, there are any number of conversations taking place and they all have the same theme. Something has to be done about humanities most pernicious enemy. Yes, I can feel this happening and I know who is provoking it. Yes, it is Mr. Apocalypse; given that yet again, 84% of the Israeli population supported Operation Pillar of Shit-Golems. This is a downgrade from the 94% that supported Operation Cast Lead. I want to point something out here. These genocidal incursions have nothing to do with security or defense, that's just the BS excuse and one needs to keep in mind that every conflict was initiated and made to happen by the world's number one aggression nation. If a conflict takes place, they made it happen but... I'm digressing. None of this has anything to do with security or defense. Elimination, subjugation, exile and extermination are the point and they are dying to make it happen and- with your permission- they will.

There goes Mr. Visible, hammering on the SOS again. Can't he pick a different subject? Why are we subjected to this on what seems like every day? You are subjected to this because I am subjected to the egregious indifference of a stoned and stupid population that thinks getting hosed is a blessed and religious experience. After all, it says that in The Bible doesn't it? Maybe my eyes are not entirely open but they are open enough to know that we got to carry that weight, on just about every level of human experience that is unpleasant. I see it and I feel it and not all of the phony apologetics that show up around here and say, “It's not them”. “It's the Vatican”, or "it's only a few of them", when few and none, is the criticism coming from those who are not all of them and should be saying something and are saying nothing; nada, well... maybe you see my dilemma.

You see, eventually we got to deal with this and also this, which is the same thing and it all ties into being allowed to do this because the religion of materialism is Satanism and we know whose religion is geared to that ...because we know something about history and maybe some of you don't mind following the Judas goat through the paddocks, out on to the killing floor but I do. Maybe you don't care about yourself but I do. I do. I have to live in this world, at least for some while longer and I will not turn my head from the obvious and horrific offenses, committed on the human race by those who are not human.

In the realm of materialism, there are lots of apps, to fill that vacant space in your heart; of course, they will not fill it. Why are there no spiritual apps? Why are there no apps for what really ails us? Shopping can be deadly, especially when you are looking for deep discounts. Stealing is not permitted, unless it is done by the major thieves, 'steal a loaf of bread and they hang you. Steal a country and they call you a patriot'. No, I'm not going to lay off on bringing something up again and again because, until people wake the fuck up, I am not going to sleep. You have my word on that. As long as crap like this continues, I'm not going to shut up.

Lately, I am hearing self indulgent expressions of male insecurity about liberated women. They got that Henry Makow virus; put the bitches in skirts because they are the permanent underclass. If you don't have the class or the stones to win a woman's heart and heal the condition that brought about all of this anger and resentment then you are no man anyway. The divine feminine is rising, so, get used to it. Part of the negative aspect of the changing on the age, into an Aquarian mindset, is the epidemic of 'Gay' copouts because the responsibility of straight is too much to bear. Switching to gay means less responsibility and is also a direct manifestation of materialism and I saw that in my early acid trips. The whole mall consciousness was fueling sexual ambiguity. This is not to say that everyone with that attraction is wrong in their expression because that is a phase we all pass through and it can tend to come about through over sensitivity to certain things. I got no problem calling them as I see them. However, putting your divinely gifted rod where excrement flows, should be a clarification on what people just don't want to admit. That is a hard, cold reality and I recommend that everyone read Tom Wolfe's amazing article, “Oh Rotten Gotham, Sliding down the Behavioral Sink”. You want to understand the whole Gay phenomenon, along with a host of other temporary sewer slides, read that story; that's reality. You're living in it.

During my time in Hawaii, I heard most days from frustrated men, about how hysterical and messed up the women on the island were. I won't argue that point. I witnessed it. The goddess thing was really funny. I wrote a song about it called “I'm a New Age Twinkie” and hopefully Sim will put that as “song of the day'. However, I also met and interacted (grin) with some pretty incredible women and all through my life, I have been fortunate enough to have met some real winners. I'll point out that what exists in America is not the same in Europe. If you can't find a woman who meets your criteria; supposing you can meet hers, then Europe will suffice. The nut job syndrome tends to be more extreme the further west you move in the US. By the time you get to Hawaii it is really out there but... that's you too. You make that the way it is. You are the other end of the equation and for every messed up woman, I ran into, I met at least one messed up man who has some idea of entitlement. You're not entitled to anything but what you earn. You get what you are! You get what you are! Your lessons are tied to your idea of what is real, counterpointed by what you want. There are all kinds of incredible women out there, try being an incredible man and see what happens.

Well, folks, I segued out of one thing and into another and they are both connected. Get a clue and get a grip. It's like that masturbation joke. This guy had a problem with jerking off, so he went to the doctor and told him about it. The doctor told him it was a matter of his way of dealing with it that made it impossible to control and that next time he had the urge, he should take his dick into his hand and simply say, “Die! Die!”. So he went home and, typically, was watching some porn and wanted to ease the pressure. He took his dick in his hand and remembering the doctor said, Die! Die! Die! Diety diety diety diety, oh yeah! Diety diety diety die”.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: Almost A Capella by Les Visible♫ I'm a New Age Twinkie ♫
'I'm a New Age Twinkie' is track no. 10 of 12 on Visible's 2007 album 'Almost A Capella'

Almost A Capella by Les Visible

Last night's radio show is up for streaming.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Snuggle Humpers and the Bareback Congo Warriors

Dog Poet Transliterating.......

May your noses always be on good terms with your ears.

For some reason ...and it is not my department. It is becoming increasingly more difficult to ratchet up a terror attack. It's the same thing with assassinations, trigger points and assorted, false flags. It has to be hi-tech when you only get wounded. No, I'm not saying this is what that was. I am saying it was engineered. Originally I had a BBC report, where the news-lady (she's no lady) was trying to do a 'leading the witness ' thing, although it seemed not everyone was in on what was going on. Too bad I don't still have that link because there was a guy being rolled away on a trolley who looked like he had been sent in from Central Casting and where the fuck is Archduke Ferdinand? “Yo Dukester! I like your assemblage. Maybe you and Hilarious Clinton can do some flamenco Dancing with the Stars!

Oh darling, there are strange winds blowing all to Hell and gone. Do you need perspective on the size of The Congo? It is the size of Western Europe. Think there might be shit in there that the bankers want. Ever heard of Coltan? It be for mobile phones. The 8 most developed countries all speak Germanic languages. I believe I have pointed out, at some time earlier, that Deutsch is the international language of economics. Vas ist dis in meine pocketsy, ya! Dis is Yiddish.

You think, there might be some shit in the ground ♫down in jungle land♫? Ya think? Alright then, crank up those engines of war, so I can go and get me some more. I remember reading about the women who were bringing this element, to wherever it goes, from the mines and they would have these cloth bags on their backs that were filled up with the item and held on their backs by a rope that went across their forehead. They say that many of them had a permanent indentation in that location, to the degree of a quarter of an inch. You keep that in mind the next time you are texting Snuggle Humpers about your next bareback rodeo session.

Yeah, that insidious wench over at the BBC was talking to this Israeli, Harvard student. It's just part of the process to be Ivy League, which has fraternal twisted sister action, with The Bush League; if you catch my drift. You can't help but to get all teary eyed and even deliquescent, when you come across something like this, shoehorned through your unicorn prong-hole. It makes you want to take a walk with The Walrus and the Carpenter, when you make the connections between the different leagues. No! Man! I do not want to go sideways Sunday today and today is not Sunday and I be I and I. And you be you and you and you too.

So... they're chillin' or killing in The Congo. It depends on only a few letters exchanged, in the space, in the absence, in the place where maybe they lived once .

I have a thing about Thanksgiving. I have a deep and voluminous love for Thanksgiving because I am all about gratitude. I try to remember all the things I am grateful for, in a life that I don't think anyone else would want, given the prior itinerary. I am especially grateful that I am not like some people. I plan on being grateful tomorrow. Most people don't know how much they should be grateful for but they will find out at some point, if expressing gratitude is not their strong point. I'm going to tell you a cosmic secret. It will take with the people it applies to and the rest will gloss over it, or forget it. We will not forget it because it is critical to our mission. It is one of the weapons in our arsenal. As Lao Tzu said, “Compassion is a weapon from the sky against being dead”. That secret is, being grateful creates more reasons for you to be grateful.

We wish all of you a day of remembering and gratitude, as opposed to a day of eating and drinking and shopping and also killing, as the case may be, in the day to day of some people. We apologize for the brevity and say, “Unleash the Levity”!

A most Happy Thanksgiving to you all and may your every returning year, routinely make you ever more grateful.

End Transmission.......

'Something Good' remastered by Bholanath
Visible sings: 911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible♫ Something Good (is Coming Soon) ♫
'Something Good(is Coming Soon)' is track no. 10 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album
'911 was an Inside Job'

Lyrics (pops up)

911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Cans of Whoop-Ass Wholesale, by the Light of the Darkling Moon

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be noses.

The radio show is now available for streaming.

I love the smell of unbridled hubris, burning in the morning. Bennie- ampheta-mine, Shitwityahoo is all cranked up with somewhere to go. The dark God he works for, is on his back about the blood drinking sands. The entities that live in the sands, are howling for blood and Shitwit hasn't been producing those quality numbers that the hungry underlings, beneath the dry, ocean bed floor, want more of. ♫I want them all. I want them all. I want them all and I want them now♫ Shitwit is also being pressed, unmercifully by himself. All of his bad qualities are ganging up on him and he's losing sleep. They be sayin' “Bennie, Bennie my man! “Let's getter done” you and me and the redneck, cable guy can put a Wal-Mart worthy ass whip on those people we're pretending to be. If they ain't there anymore, we got no competition. You can do it Bennie! Let's face it, you don't care how many people you kill. You wanna increase the power? Increase the deaths! You go girl! Bennie! Bennie, what am I, chopped liver? No Bennie, they're chopped liver! Wait a minute, don't chop those livers, we need them for our strong-arm, organ donor network”.

Bennie's hearing it from all sides. Ehud Barackandroll, is screaming in his ear. “Ve vant ze body count! Ve want ze body count. Bennie! Call out ze Jets! Wal-Mart can get you economy cans of Whoop-Ass wholesale! Cheaper than stolen! Bennie! This ain't no gun in my pocket. I really am glad to see you! Bubbie-Bennie, ve got to mow ze lawn. Ver are ze carpet munchers!!! Ver are the carpet munchers! Tel Aviv is gay Paris of the East! Ver are the carpet munchers! Bennie!!! Ve need to mow ze lawn! Ve need to munch ze lawn!”

Then there's the 94% that supported the last little genocidal excursion. They were con-greeeeeeegating on the hills over the massacre grounds, drinking their martinis, stirred and shaking, singing Hava la Gila Monster and doing touchdown bumps, with no yellow flags. The only good Palestinian, is a mulched Palestinian. I'm surprised they don't have mobile, surgical ambulances, accompanying the ground troops and armor, so they can get those organs on the spot. It's like the Central Banker's do; profit from every end of the equation. Heck, Rothschild built a lot of the important infrastructure. You know they got a body count investment and they want those high end, Franklin Fund returns. Bring in a Palestinian with organs and you get a free toaster! What! They're a bank. The organs are really only on loan anyway. Of course, there's a problem with the return because the principal cannot be reached but hey! It's all good.

What do you know? “Report this petition as inappropriate” is back up on the website. Yes, it's already up at the top of the page, courtesy of Sim (Shady) but you can't say it too much. It's like “Ve need to mow the lawn”! It's like this little puppy here (good doggie). You can't say it too much. “Ve need to mow ze lawn”! Ver are ze carpet munchers! Vas is dis, Astro-turf? Mow it anyway”! Just goes to show you need to be hands on proficient. You don't know that, with all this climate change and weird, inexplicable things, that that Astro-turf won't grow some night under the dark of the moon, It's always dark of the moon there. Uh, what moon? Warren Moon?

Let's be honest with ourselves. Not many other people can manage it. They like doing this shit. It gets them off. I know you're thinking, “How can that be possible? That is some sick shit”!. I agree but sick shit is a growth industry. Like cancer. Damn! Cancer is a double-entendre, growth industry. Yes, they like what they do. They are champing at the bit to do it. They green-light shooting 10 year old girls, on their way home from school and then confirm the kill, with a few more rounds, up close and personal. Then they get acquitted by their own courts. They blow away 14 year old girls, hanging their laundry on a rooftop. All this is just for sport and resultant from the boredom of the day to day, along with inbred spite and basic meanspiritedness. They can't get no action. They have to go out into the hinterlands and launch rockets against themselves, just to provide some motivation. The land is calling too. Some stolen land, always wants more stolen land. Land for a people who aren't people, from a people who owned the land and then got evicted from it.

It's not every nation that can call themselves an aggregate of true, butt-hole surfers. They're the ass-raping bandits of the apocalypse (shame I can't use that as a title, too provocative. Do I look fat in this negligee? Course, when I add a skateboard, it makes all the difference.)

I got to give these guys recognition. They are not getting their due. You got to give The Devil his due, especially when it really is The Devil. I mean, like father like son right? Do you think maybe I'm exaggerating this whole thing? I know for sure that I am not but it's all a matter of opinion and degrees of being informed. Some people don't want to be informed because it puts a certain responsibility on them and most people don't want that particular brand of responsibility but I can see people are waking up. They're getting outraged all over the planet and, of course, this outrages Shitwit. That Anti-Semite thing just isn't working any more. I consider it a badge of honor. Not because they are Semites. They are not. It's simply a matter of the term. People should be able to say, “You know what? You are absolutely right and thank you for saying it. I was hoping you would. The truth is Anti-Semitic. You went ahead and made my day and I'm not even Clint Eastwood but then... neither is he so, whatevah”...

Meanwhile, Ariel Sharon is still in a coma. The beached whale, sleeps in situ, beneath the blood stained sands, esoterically speaking. He's not around and there's some kind of Karma working out there. All his compatriots are in a moral coma. Whatever happened to Unzipit Livi? She was a hoot, a real budding Madeleine Albright. When Madeleine found out she was a Tribe member (who knew?), the first thought that moved from her cottage cheese ass, to her reptile brain, was, “so that's why I said that thing about those half a million Iraqi children. Who knew”? In his gut bustingly funny book, called “Filth”, Irvine Welsh has the main character, often referring to doing a Judy Dench in his pants. It's a flatulence reference. I call it a Madeleine Albright. Great minds tend to think along similar lines. Madeleine's an interesting 'specimen' (why she's in the Petri Dish), also a bit of a junkie. She has Iraqi children ground up and then puts them in a hydrolator, till they're crystalline and crunchy and then she chops them up into lines and snorts them. She snorts so much of them that she's got a deviated septum but that ain't her only deviation. I want to see that Madeleine Albright and Donald Rumsfeld sex tape. Twisted, Moi? Get outta here.

Yeah, I know you wish Patrick would do a rendo of this posting but that's in the ethers and, what do you know? So am I? Kidding! I just wanted to give an acknowledgment for all of his hard work and outstanding courage as Snordelhans. He rocks. I wish more people rocked. Then we could rock the house. We could be 'in the house'! We could have it 'going on'. Yeah we could, if only we would. Don't let me be The Lone Ranger out here.

Shitwit and Barackandroll, need a Red Cross truck on permanent standby. They need the blood. Won't you donate a little of your classic indifference today? Make a difference with your indifference! You know you don't care either way so... go for it or, whatevah!

We want credit, where credit is due, even if it's bad credit, something banker's don't usually like but they make up the rules as they go. Rules wouldn't be of much use to them, unless they could make and break them with impunity, whenever they wanted to. It's like controlling the money supply. When you control the money supply, you can buy up all the necessary industries, like the media and entertainment complex. You can't get effective, full-bore propaganda, for the proper cooked gooses, unless you own the propaganda mediums, so that was Job One; take over the media and entertainment complex and then put the arm of the Departments of State and Defense. Oh yeah, buy off or blackmail both houses of Congress . Make sure you always have a cyborg punk, like Rahm 'em Emanuel in the Executive branch, doing a Grima Wormtongue in the Chief of Staff's ear. When he pisses in the Chief of Staff's ear, the Chief of Staff says, “I think it's raining”. Then it's off to the most corrupt, political city in the world, cause, You da man! You da man! You definitely are something though, giving a human equivalent might be a bit of a stretch, if I were prone to understatement.

Put nothing past these blood-stained clowns and you won't be disappointed. Of course you'll be disappointed but you won't be surprised. Now is the time of summing up and the sum of it is the whole of it, on it's way out the door and we won't see it no more.

Okay, my friends, along with the sullen, accidental showups. ♫It's time for my boot-heels to be rambling♫ Radio show up next, he said ,hopefully.

End Transmission.......

Visible and The Critical List: La Vierge Sperme Danceur by Les Visible and The Critical List♫ Cactus Man ♫
'Cactus Man' is track no. 1 of 8 on Visible and The Critical List's 1987 album
'La Vierge Sperme Danceur'

La Vierge Sperme Danceur by Les Visible and The Critical List

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Mr. Apocalypse and his Elves take a Walk with Mr. Inevitable

Dog Poet Transmitting........

May your noses always be cold and wet.

We need a handful of signatures to make this petition go public. I like to think of you and me as Mr. Apocalypse's elves. We could dress up in skin tight black elves outfits, with floppy, pointy hats and elf boots with curled up toes. Mr Apocalypse likes a black ensemble. Maybe a little drama, might accentuate our commitment to the whole process. Conversely we might look like damn fools. Of course, anyone who goes on as if nothing happened, or it doesn't matter if something did, would qualify as a damn fool anyway. Then things go on becoming progressively worse because that is what happens when you don't do anything. Things get worse. Do I have to count the ways or list examples? I don't think so.

Dumb has been raised to an art form in the US. Dumb, mean and senseless are the looming goalposts of Armageddon. The signposts are all up and down the highway and some kind of weird, poetic justice is hammering on the microcephalic pointy heads, who are not wearing elf hats. I ponder what strange and terrible absurdities wait in the wings. Massive rumblings are going on in the wings of the theater of The Grand Guignol. Something with a heavy breathing intensity, is going on about the Benghazi affair(s). Little Georgie Sorrows is losing his mind in a very public and deserving way. Be sure to scroll down the page to see some portion of the terrible horror of it all. Some men are so predictable and truly deserving of what happens to them, when the inevitable comes upon them. We don't see the effect of the inevitable a great deal of the time. The inevitable is a kind of behind the scenes sort of a player. Mr. Inevitable works with Mr. Apocalypse. Mr. Apocalypse makes his way through the disorder of the cluttered and compromised lives, of those who have finally drawn his attention and once he has tapped, or whacked them, with his walking stick, Mr. Inevitable does the followup. Mr Apocalypse lights them up with the aura of their essence and then Mr. Inevitable applies the result that attends that particular composition. Milk spoils and cheese molds. Some things rot. Some things bloom. Route 1 runs through Big Sur, it doesn't go to Fresno. People ought to pay some mind to what highway they are on and where it ends up but they often don't. In some cases they might be clear about the probable outcome but they figure it's worth the risk.

Why we don't see the inevitable and why we are not presented with examples of well deserved justice in the high places of corruption is a mystery but... that mystery is part and parcel of the drama itself. If everything were uniform and predictable, if things always worked out the way they should, when they should (supposing that they don't in fact already do so, when that might be something else we don't see) then there would be no great challenge to anything. The good would be rewarded right off the bat and the evil would be punished, as they should be. It seems not to happen. For my part, I assume this can only imply something I am not seeing, in all the times that my pedestrian mind, by force, or inclination, gravitates to the view that things are just all fucked up and have been for a long time. This gets magnified when I have one of those series of bad days, that come around like clockwork out of the Bad Karma Depository. I don't know the purpose of these days (then again I do, but it won't come to me until later in the post), as I do not know the purpose of a great many things and I don't know these things for a reason. That's what I automatically assume because there are things I don't know and I have the same options as everyone else; to presume I know something I don't know, or accept the obvious that I don't know something, when it is evident that I do not.

This is the initial error made by a huge portion of the human race. They determine that they know what they do not know, or they accept what they are told and that passes for a knowledge that they keep adding to. Most people know that regular consumption of fast-foods will make them sick and eventually kill them. They know this but they don't want to know it so they grant themselves a kind of exceptionalism that frees them (they think) from something they are most certainly not free from.

It's more than passing strange. It's been going on for a long time; this matter of people convincing themselves of things that are not true. Today I read about the ongoing tale of Arthur Topham in Zionist, Communist controlled Canada. Telling the truth is considered hate speech and so long as they control the money supply, they can bribe the legislators, in various countries, to make laws that protect them and remove everyone else's rights. That this is happening is beyond question. That control of the money supply makes this possible, is beyond question. Unfortunately, in this day and age, a great many corrupt tools came into this world to serve the forces of evil. There are also some amount of good men and women. They are not allowed anywhere near the reigns of power. Useful idiots are shoehorned into the roles of functionaries, who carry out the policies of monsters.

Anyone can see what has happened to the police forces, since they have been being trained by the monsters. Deep in this minestrone are a lot of unwilling souls who find themselves going along with the program. At some point, their conscience will not allow them to continue further. We wait upon that day and all of us engaged in the struggle to not become monsters, while we expose the monsters, know that our work is not in vain. As has been said before, “The only thing necessary for evil to prosper is for good men to do nothing”. Edmund Burke, I believe. Our principal difficulty is in knowing precisely what is wrong and what is right and committing ourselves, against all odds to the proper course of thought, speech and action. It can get murky and don't get me started on moral relativism.

There seems to be some kind of ancient consciousness that actually lives within the sphere of flush money. I've seen it time and time again; what it does to people. Very few, I observe, escape the wearing of that cloak of venality and self interest, to the exclusion of and sometimes the detriment of their fellows. I am not suggesting that many people with a lot on money do not deserve it. They most certainly do. They worked hard for their money and I have also see the lazy and endlessly self justifying, who whine about how unfair the world is and won't put their shoulder to the wheel. Of course, you also need to be circumspect, intelligent and bold. It's been said that “fortune favors the bold”. I don't know, I've been pretty bold and I have no fortune (grin). I know, I get it, I get it... except when I don't get it.

I watch a lot of movies. I do it while I'm writing because, otherwise I probably wouldn't get to do it. I've managed to read all five books of “A Song of Ice and Fire”, while having lunch over recent months. I engage in a certain amount of communion, when I awaken and while I await the dream boat coming over the horizon of my departing consciousness. Although my life appears disorganized to some, it is organized in it's own way. I can hardly see a movie anymore that doesn't make some reference to The Tribe and how mistreated they are, or were (uh huh), or what really decent and good people they are. It's getting nauseating.

Unlike so many people, who are so deeply immersed in the dream state, I got electrocuted by the cosmic tazer on several occasions and then, a lot of what followed I didn't have much say about. This also leaves me in a wide wasteland, most of the time, caught between two forces that are vying for my attention. I can mistake who is talking to me on occasion but it doesn't amount to any lasting harm. What it amounts to is my having to have be put through unpleasant changes to come to a realization. This is the reason so many people get immersed and stay immersed in the dream state. Coming out the dream state can be hard and involves rising from level to level of awareness. I am led to believe there is no real end to that. Of course there are states of relative, transformative finality, where the door closes behind you and you can never go back again to where you were. I would say that one of the most difficult things about all of this is the aloneness but... you're never alone, it just seems that way. It's kind of like becoming a star in the sky, or maybe a black hole, in some cases (grin).

Well, I digressed all over the place again. I'm in one of those unsettled states, where I jump at every sound and nothing works and there is a heavy hand, pressing down on me. I am under the impression that this has to do with some pending change and in order for me to pass through it successfully, my papers have to be in order; so to speak. One of the cardinal errors that many people make (I've made it), is to think that the universe hates you and that these period are negative punishment zones. Actually what they are, is you being given a leg up on to a ladder, something with a handhold, that you can't reach on your own. Once one is capable of looking at every event in their life, as a positive transiting condition, your progress will be exponential, by comparison with how it was before. I've been getting a real taste of this lately and have been, over the course of the last several years. You get to know yourself pretty good under the circumstances and not always in the most flattering of lights but, like most things arcane and mysterious, there's a lot more to them than we might suspect, except when there is nothing to them at all; as if a mystery simply unraveled and left you standing there on your own; hope that makes sense.

Well, the bad guys look to be on the verge of doing a lot of bad things. That would be par for the course. The Crass Media is obfuscating with what should be transparent lies. I don't know what shape the outcome will take but I think the whole world is tired of this shit, so maybe this time, it will catch fire and give us some ashes to ashes and dust to dust in a cleansing way, that allows this new age to actually come into being, once those entrenched in the old age have had their rendezvous with Mr. Apocalypse.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: Color Ball by Les Visible♫ Back in the World ♫
'Back in the World' is track no. 3 of 12 on Visible's 2007 album 'Color Ball'

Color Ball by Les Visible

Monday, November 12, 2012

Bang the Drums and Make the Speeches, You Vicious Leeches

Dog Poet Transiting.......

May your noses always be on your face.

(This weekend's radio show is now available for streaming).

Sometimes we have to address things that are unpleasant but... less unpleasant than the tactics that brought the subject to our attention. This has been taking place in the formerly democratic states of America and also in the land of the financial masters, The UK. I travel around and one of the things that happens with me, is that I see things out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes I don't have to see it out of the corner of my eye, like when I was catching the little mind confetti about The UK. Sometimes it hits me smack between the eyes, accompanied by olfactory enhancements, as if I were in the VIP section of a lower East Side defacatorium; not that I've ever been in one but we're talking peripheral input again. A lot of what goes down in the passing of an age, due to the corruption and decadence that pretty much requires a passing of the age, at a certain point, can be nauseating, due to the exposure tactics of Mr. Apocalypse, who arrives on the scene to damn well make it clear to us, how deeply in denial we are about so many things. It is made effectively clear as a result of the degree of pain necessary to wake our asses up, because by some inexplicable and mysterious process, our brains somehow wound up located (seated) there.

I am no fan of bombast or pretentious and empty ceremony, especially when it results in support for continuous, unnecessary torment, torture and bloodshed. It is the perpetuation of this odious shit that makes support for these things, indifference to them and ignorance about them, a crime. You keep your mouth shut and your head down and sooner or later, you will be marching through something you would rather not be marching through, because it wasn't important enough to you to take responsibility for a country you say you Love. Love gives a shit. If you don't, or you're prepared to reflexively waffle in what you miss-perceive as some form of self interest, it ain't love, it's some kind of convenience, some kind of mailed in affection, some kind of fatuous air-kiss and then you do lunch, or each other; who cares? Anyone who doesn't understand about how the military operates needs to go watch “Full Metal Jacket”. That's a pretty good exposition of what's going on. However, the Hallmark Greeting Card image we get is anything but that.

I was watching the games on Sunday, alongside whatever it is that I do most of the time and there's this commercial for The Marines, filled with sound and fury and signifying bullshit. It's all about running into trouble, to help some poor unfortunate people, whose resources the bankers want to steal. The idea is that they run into trouble and then the voice over asks, “Which direction would you run in”? All these wars of recent memory, have been the result of a nasty, calculated piece of work by some real villains. This is the truth. Turn your head, ♫row your boat merrily down the stream♫ wave your tired and compromised flags and strangle your conscience on the bunting and banners. It doesn't change what is. Just keep telling yourself that somehow it's all fine and the way it has to be. We'll see about that. Even now they are building the new gulags because that is what they do. That is what they have done before. It's a consistent and repeating pattern. It's what they do. What is referenced here is only a small portion of the evidence presented by many sources. Anyone can find these things, should that be of any importance to anyone.

All through the games and now streaming through this one, in Chicago, as I watch it this AM, are these pathetic displays of patriotism. They parade 92 year old veterans down the field. They show a veteran touching the names on a Vietnam war memorial. Soldiers stand on ascending steps and fire blanks into the air, as a demonstration of prowess, not unlike a sterile, GMO fed prole, firing his own blanks. Nature is embarrassed at the possibility of any more of them. You can see the generations dying out, like they have done in preceding cultures that were dying out and did die out. Of course sometimes, like in Carthage, they just burned it to the ground and sowed the fields with salt.

I understand what it says in the Bhagavad-Gita about there being “nothing better for a warrior than a righteous war”. The operative word here is 'righteous'. There's been nothing righteous about any of these wars. They have all been mercenary actions for venal gain. You can be tired of hearing about this. You can not want to hear about this; given that a certain onus is placed upon you, as the result of knowing. You can follow your dick wherever it wants to go, playing pocket pool with one hand and fondling a bottle of Rohypnol with another. You do what you do because it's a numbers game and maybe something or other won't get around to you; maybe. Or you can do what so many of the people responsible for all of these things do and that's to put yourself in a position, where you are orchestrating or assisting in the conflicts and have made yourself too vital and important to serve in the violence you get paid to engineer, like Dickhead Cheney and all the rest of the Chickenhawks, who have the capacity to do things that no decent heart and no rational mind, would tolerate. They continue to walk among us, untouched by retribution and unmoved by any sense of conscience.

You who wave these tawdry emblems of a bankrupt patriotism are responsible for this. You useless eaters and sensation seeking automatons, masturbating to the bloody fantasies of life, as detached video game, like the perpetual adolescents, at their drone control boards, gunning down women and children and farmers in the field; insulated musicians who perform for craven politicians, who take their orders from bankers. No living entity is more damned and demented than the central bankers, who wallow in the steaming carnage of the dead.

♫When Johnny comes home still and prone♫ Then you can put that photo they took when he graduated from basic training and stick it on the mantelpiece to remember his sacrifice by; his sacrifice to the twisted dreams of bankers. He died for the profit of bankers and THAT IS ALL HE DID!

You find out things about yourself when you've been turned into a killing machine that screams, “Kill”! till their throat is raw on the practice fields, before it goes into real time and you soon enough get so fucked up and scared that you do something you are never going to forget, or you make it back with all your important parts missing and spend what remains of your life shooting junk into your veins; Oorah!!!

Lots of people get pissed when they hear this kind of thing. They got that 24 caret investment in the time dishonored lies. They can't bear to look the whole sick situation in the face. They have to opt out for the soiled dreams that are fed into their minds, by the ones manipulating them, because having to see the truth of it ruins everything. Having to see the truth of it, means having to be responsible for your part in it, for sending your children off to die for the fucking bankers, who also destroyed your economic system, thereby erasing your jobs and then rigged the housing market, so that they could take your house. Why don't you just cut to the chase and have “Fuck Me”! tattooed on one ass cheek and “Kill me”! tattooed on the other and just get into the habit of walking around with no pants on. You might want to have “And” tattooed just below the sacral plexus. You don't want the predators to have to wonder if there's some kind of either or choice. You need for them to know that you're going for the whole enchilada, given that you are the enchilada.

I'll tell you what I see when I see the commercial of some young, handsome black man, walking around his neighborhood, in a uniform, all TV-enhanced as a local hero. I see a chump. I see a fool who still didn't get his forty acres and a mule. I see someone who likes to threaten to riot because they got some kind of a black man in The White House, who is hosing them just like every other color of man before him but they are too dumb to see it. The symbolic effect is enough for them. There's little difference between Obama and Shortpants, dumber than rock, Bush except that Obama likes to get blown by men like Bush and Bush likes to get ridden by James Gannon, while Karl Rove watches, or waits his turn, I don't know which and I don't care either. One MKUltra, Tavistock rendered troll is like any other.

Primitive tribes have rites of manhood. Civilized societies often don't have them. The military serves for that. If you don't die, or wind up in a wheelchair, they still want you in a willing position to take orders. They want that embedded discipline to be happening. You've marched off the battlefield, maybe, now you can march by the long route to the grave. You were born for a higher destiny. The available promise of what is possible for you, lies by the side of the road, where you discarded any consideration of it. You may not know about all this now but you will at some point. You will.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: 911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible♫ Bush Family History Lesson ♫
'Bush Family History Lesson' is track no. 5 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album
'911 was an Inside Job'

911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible

Friday, November 09, 2012

Demented Peacocks and Shooting Gallery Jack in the Boxes

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet, or I'll get suspicious (grin).

I can't mention Mr. Apocalypse often enough for my tastes. He's putting his back into it! He's rowing with a will and hammering on the waters of substance and experience. Yowsah! Oorah! Marines don't leave Marines behind, or is it, Marine don't mess with Marines behinds? I can't get it straight, probably because I am straight, though somewhat bent, by my continuing adjustments to the world, as well as my need to apologize over and over for not being Politically Correct, which invariably gives me the dry heaves; not the apology but the Political Correctness.

There's several, interesting things taking place. They are all connected behind the scenes. The pedophilia exposures, are dovetailing with an international awareness of the rank odor of Banker Nation's interference in domestic affairs and elections throughout The West and maybe everywhere. It is as if, all on it's own, a clear perception is emerging about civilizations most diabolical enemy. That's Mr. Apocalypse folks. He's not just hammering on the waters of substance and experience. He's hammering on consciousness and comprehension as well. Don't think that those in the cross-hairs of the lenses of exposure don't know about all of this, they do. One might call it almost an animal instinct for pending retribution. It pings on the survival zone, of those for whom material culture, is the be all and end all. Of course, this kind of mindset accounts for all the success on that plane. Whatever you are fully committed to, you succeed at, within the dimensions of the demographic and... given what the archetypal reactions to that particular dance might be.

Let us consider the material world, which most of the people who come here, already recognize as a stage and that we are all players “having our exits and entrances” (scanning... scanning... for errors that a 7th grader wouldn't make. C'mon Visible, get it together!). Yes, most of us know that, “all the world's a stage”. What we sometimes might not know, is that there are boundaries to the perimeters, which are manned by archetypes, who maintain a particular consistency within the geometrical and geographical limitations of the landscape. You can think of these archetypes, as polarities that act upon each other and may at times, resolve into yet another one, from across and between the poles. They are vibrating verities that maintain the conditions of the moment, through all moments that we have. Our ability to recognize the ceaseless interplay, has a great deal to do with whether we succeed in life or fail, according to the true measure of success. It's ain't what it's generally presented as. The usual route of misinterpretation, of what is real, usually results in spectacular failure, or simple generic failure because the usual state of common humanity is a blue plate special of skewed values, which are grafted on to their awareness, by the world that chews them up and spits them out.

Why is epidemic buggery the functioning liturgy of The Catholic Church? Why is just about every religion all fucked up about sex (pun intended)? This accounts for the majority of people being all hung up about sex and censorious of it, as well as fiercely judgmental about the people who are not hung up, unless it's the hedonistic profligacy of those who do all kinds of shit from a position of authority. Confusing people about sex, makes it possible to drive them with the whips of guilt. It is why alcohol is the operative, world-wide comestible. Nothing creates more guilt than alcohol and nothing leaves you in worse situations in the aftermath. An argument can be made in this day and age for Methamphetamine, Cocaine and Heroin, though prescription drugs kill many times more people ...but alcohol is the queen of the day and night. It's all about guilt. Guilt invariably amplifies fear. Fear is a Hell of a motivator, when it isn't intended as a motivation killer.

We could get out of this vicious cycle, if we weren't so susceptible to the carrot and the stick. We just keep motoring along for the unreachable carrot, while guilt and fear whip our asses onward. Where's the serenity in that?

It's been mentioned here, a time or two about the historical record, as mutilated and reconstructed as it may be. Most people don't have a deep sense of history. They are unread about huge swaths of time, though they might be somewhat aware of some of the many, many hideous circumstances that have gone down over time. Those of us who are, perhaps, a little more aware of things, like violent invasions, revolutions ...and things like the trench warfare of WW1 and any number of disasters that were telegraphed ahead of time... we ask ourselves, why did they hang around, given what followed? Sure, in some cases they were hemmed in but, in many cases they were in a position to get out of Dodge. They did not do this and you can trace nearly all of that inaction to some form of attachment. This is what keeps people consistently hanging around for their own torment and demise. It's what gives people a mortal perspective in the first place. Most people have no clue whatsoever what is possible for them. The potential is limitless. The potential is measurably limitless, whatever that means (grin).

I've mentioned the capacity for objective awareness and reasoning many times. I've done so because it is a very important ability to possess. The world and those who serve it, are much engaged in compromising people's ability to exercise objective awareness and reasoning. They are engaged in imprinting false information to begin with. After a time, the mind tends to accept total lies, simply because they are ubiquitous and so often repeated. You have to question everything. One of the reasons I was so enamored of psychedelics, for such a long space of time, was because they acted like a rocket booster that blew me right out of the confines of what is (as far as I am concerned) known euphemistically, as normal life. WTF is that? Now, until very recently, I hadn't taken psychedelics for a couple of years but much earlier on, I took them every chance I got because I did not want to be trapped in the world I saw around me. Given my persistence on various levels, relentlessly, I am now not trapped in this common world, either physically or consciousness wise. It's there but I'm not. I can't say one hundred percent of the time but I don't say 100% about anything, usually.

The level of spite and “fuck you, no matter how it makes me look” is a feature of these transforming times. Dreadful irony prances like a demented peacock in people's faces and... do they get it? Maybe something like this is responsible. Well, I will present with verification an uncomfortable truth and implore all of you to adopt the Boy Scout motto as a visceral reality. Be prepared, should 100% of the time, dictate, “be aware' as well”.

Lies are manufactured by the hour, quite often to support failed and indifferent product, as if telling you something is good, makes it so. I saw this piece of crap and it 'ranks' with the worst of the series ever to hit the big screen. It's muddled, confusing, plot challenged and poorly directed. The death of M got the kind of treatment you would give to some bit player who was in for a moment and out for another. Obviously, if you are a film buff, this piece of excrescence couldn't occupy the same room with the recent remake of Casino Royale. The only good thing you can say about it was that Javier Bardem showed some decent acting chops, independent and apart from all the bad writing and all the other abortions of the process. Why did I digress like this into some seemingly unrelated thing? Is it unrelated? Did you question my assumption based on my experience of the film? Good. Question everything, except the fact that there is an indefinable unity, underlying all things. Of course you are welcome to question that too. I don't, not no way and not no how and that is why I don't have to stand around confused about all the multiplicities, vying for singularity, like shooting gallery Jack in The Boxes and neither do you, unless that's part of your way of doing things and getting done at the same time.

(scanning... scanning for something less than a 7th grade effort in this unremarkable post... scanning. Damn! Get it together! Be a man! Go ahead, whip it out and wave it around. Why do you think they made trench coats in the first place?) I'm amusing myself. You can take that any way you like. Since I don't know how you like to take it and since I don't want to have to give reign to my imagination, in that regard, I'll just whistle on past the graveyard here and hope The Headless Horseman don't show up. I did used to get compared to Ichabod Crane but not in a long time now. The tale says he moved to another country and became a judge.

♫When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, Let it be♫ (scanning... scanning). So, my suggestion is to never accept anything, until it proves itself to you. In the Yoga Aphorisms of Patanjali (I prefer the Alice Bailey edition, though those of you who get all worked up about Lucis Trust might not) there is reference made to restraining the Chitta. This is a lot like my practice of snorting, when thoughts enter your head, given you don't know the provenance or what internal airport they took off from. This leads to an unbroken flow of knowledge, transmitted from the object under consideration. This is what I mean by never accepting anything until it proves itself to you. It will and you should remember that this is the time of Mr. Apocalypse. Familiarize yourself with what he does. Many of us think ourselves familiar with all of his aspects but make sure, look into it. Make yourself aware that he is in action right now and profit from the positive aspect of his multi-dimensional activities. There are positive aspects and you are personally on his mind. Get that mind meld operational.

End Transmission.......

Visible and The Critical List: La Vierge Sperme Danceur by Les Visible and The Critical List♫ Camouflage ♫
'Camouflage' is track no. 8 of 8 on Visible and The Critical List's 1987 album
'La Vierge Sperme Danceur'

About this song (pops up)

La Vierge Sperme Danceur by Les Visible and The Critical List

There will be a pre-scanned radio show this weekend.

Tuesday, November 06, 2012

Shit on a Shingle from Bankerscum Nation

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Patrick Willis does it yet again!

In No Man's Land, Seeking the Doors of Deliverance

♫I feel good, like I didn't know that I would now. I feel nice, not like sugar and spice. So good, so good, I got something or other♫ Don't think I missed that comment at Mirrors about missing me. That felt good to see, so Mulțumesc mult, E o plăcere să fiu aici..

Today we celebrate (well, actually I don't celebrate) our quadrennial, voter fraud day. Traditionally, the voter fraud, is exercised by the fascist equation of the demographic but... since both sides of the equation are fascist, as in fascist economy sized and fascist plus size, there's no telling what kind of hanky panky will take place. If Nit Romney wins, war is guaranteed. If Howdy Doody wins, war just continues to march along, with a daily unpredictable push and shove, between the ruling junta of Bankerscum Central and the Muppet, political circle jerk, that rubber stamps their twisted agenda.

I am repeating once again that Mr. Apocalypse is on the scene. Let me say in one of the countless ways one can say it that he has one very significant aspect to his modus operandi. That would be revelation, which is just another way to say, 'apocalypse' as well as 'uncovering'. What does Senor Apocalypse uncover? He uncovers lies and he reveals the truth. Consider some of the monstrous lies that have found their way into a bent perception of reality; whatever the Hell that may really be at this point. Think about the lies that have empowered Bankerscum nation and granted them the dispensation to run roughshod all over the Earth and reduce the quality of life for everyone else to shit on a shingle. I grew up on military bases, so I've had my share of shit on a shingle and I used to like it a whole lot. I used to be blind in one eye and couldn't see out of the other also. That's not the case anymore.

I figure those of us who can see some portion of what's going on, past the point of a certain line of comprehension, are inline for a consciousness upgrade; getting tapped on the shoulder by Mr. Apocalypse, due to our willingness to see things as they are, which is the sole requirement for the upgrade. The rest of us are going to get swatted on the ass, until we can't sit down because there's been way too much sitting down going on 'over there', speaking in a sedentary way. It should come as no surprise that there are so many zombie movies. I intensely dislike zombie movies (it's okay with me if some of you like them). I get the impression that they are supposed to be scary but I find them ludicrous and also reflective of a lot of the world I move through. The only difference between the movies and real life (or whatever this is), is that they aren't eating the unzombified. They are eating themselves and it tastes damned good, probably because they are unaware of this. You'll note that when people age, usually, they are bent over from the solar plexus area and that is because the fire of desire in the visceral, abdominal brain has been burning, lights out, through the day today of those living in perpetual twilight.

♫Don't cry for me Argentina Turner, Wack! Wack! What's love got to do with it?♫ The absence of Love is the problem. That is because the preeminent feature of material culture, is attachment. Attachment inhibits Love, the same way that hate is Love suppressed and why it smoulders under the old paint rags of 'me first, you later, maybe'. People think selfishness is enlightened self interest, because justification is the major tool of going in the wrong direction. Why do people go in the wrong direction? Whatever the perception, it is, in some way, connected to attachment. All of our offenses against ourselves and others, is in some way related to attachment and the initial attachment is to false concepts, which express themselves in wrong action. This is what makes it possible for the shit on the shingle chefs to be serving a standing room only crowd of 'what the Hell am I doing here', only they ain't asking. They ain't asking because all kinds of other demands, are superimposed over the the most most important and ignored inquiry of; who am I?

So, today, election fraud Tuesday, is made possible by Nowell's, basically hood ornaments, plastic flamingos on a drinking glass, bobbingup and down in affirmation of transparently obvious liars, prevaricating punks, who could care less who dies or suffers as long as it's not them; glib shit bags who really ought to be set on fire on these people's doorstep, cause maybe they might get a clue when they stamp it out but probably not. However, Mr. Apocalypse is is going to be doing something about those bent frame, side stepping, broken line dancing, drug store cowboys, who don't mind bad drugs being legal and good drugs against the law because then they might get a clue, should they be exposed to some irresistible impetus banging on their Fox-lock, locked subconscious. Don't go down there, something might change and the level of attachment would experience something like holding hands with The Wicker Man. One would be impressively stunned, were they to be confronted by what is truly happening to them. Given their investment in what is not, it comes as no surprise that they would resist awareness by every possible means. Have another dry martini. That red face really compliments your haute couture, deshabille; nighty night kiddies. Love the neck flow over the collar. It's not everyone who buttons their pyjama top all the way up. Too much blood flow to the brain can be a real impediment to avocational sonambulism, or zombie waltzing; aleman what? I know wrong context but we got plenty of that.

Twit Romney or Howdy Doody? Sounds like a retarded Hobson's Choice to me. Kind of what you expect in a world where Michael Bloomberg compliments Howdy Doody for his splendid work, as portrayed in The Crass Media, also know as Banker Scum, Yellow Journalism, while in the alternative press, tens of thousands are screaming in outrage about a Katrina Redux. Smilin Bama man just takes it all in stride, glib and polished and full of it; knowing that the public is just as dumb as he thinks they are. Doctor Drone Killer is in the house. Hosing to the right of him, hosing to the left of him, hosing on a 360 cause shit happens, especially when you make it happen. It's what's for dinner.

However, Mr. Apocalypse keeps on choodlin. He seems a little slow but that is about compassionate patience, hoping that those multiple, swift kicks in the ass might prove unnecessary but we know better about that, or think we do and maybe we don't, so we remain hopeful that something which never happens, might happen. We sure hope so.

Judgment is coming, sooner or later, waking up or not waking up. A lot of dirty water has passed under the bridge and the cosmic storm troopers, of long overdue equalization, are in their cigarette boats, motoring upstream. These are the Karma salmon coming to deliver the viral spawn. It's a neutral sort of things at the inception. It is given an identifying persona, at the moment of contact with whatever. Good transforms into good in resolution and bad transforms into bad in resolution. It's a universal certainty. You reap what you sow. Many people don't believe this because it is inconvenient in respect of their going the wrong way and because they don't see instant karma, then they think there is no karma at all. As one can see over the short term, looking long term, evil seems to prosper but evil is it's own reward. You get where you are headed and that means whatever environment your intention designates, attended by it's particular weather, it's particular inhabitants ...and it's particular kismet. I realize that it often doesn't look this way but as I have mentioned often (but not in awhile-grin), we are on a Mobius Strip and only see the half of it. Sometimes you see things working out on this end but you may be certain they work out on some end the end. The impression that they don't, is a motivating condition for people to imagine they are getting away with something when, in fact, it is getting away with them.

This is the critical, cognitive dissonance. Our perceptions reflect our intentions and everything comes out looking like we want it to, without actually reflecting what is. What is, comes along later, when what is not has finally pushed the river, until it backs up on itself, which is how your ships finally come in, bearing whatever cargo you had on order.

Yes, it's voter fraud day, when people pretend that what they have chosen to be, becomes the operative make-believe, relentlessly reported upon by the Bankerscum Crass media and then acted out, by the useful stooges, who sold their souls and their asses, for a place in the spot light, never realizing that the spotlight highlights and exposes them in front of the whole world. That Jimmy Savile thing is picking up steam. It's going to be a hot time in the old world tonight. What's the deal with it all having to do with a former prime minister? Can't anyone figure out who that is? Why is there no mention of who the likely top end, rear end happens to be? Questions, questions.

End Transmission.......

Visible sings: 911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible♫ While the President Makes War ♫
'While the President Makes War' is track no. 8 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album
'911 was an Inside Job'

About this song (pops up)

911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible