Dog Poet Transmitting.......
Far under the compost of the leaves in years passed, one can hear the muffled rumble of the drums of war, coiling up like a Gaboon Viper, in stealth mode, on the far side of an ancient, decomposing log. It might be hard to imagine getting bitten by a metaphor for a vibrating skin; a metaphor the snake is still living in. You don't want to get bitten by one of these. They have an enormous head and two inch fangs.
It is all the actions of serpents on the inter-penetrating planes. You can see enormous serpents half in and half out of the Earth. They are holographic projections of connecting diamond shapes that you can see right through. You can hear the demigod sounding the OM in the darkness of the Muladhara. Initially this also is the drum of war, uncoiling as it rises through the portals in search of Peace and... Peace will come once the opposites are united in the harmony of their love. The entirety of the process is all internal. The outside mirrors the inside; “your inside is out and your outside is in So come on. Come on, it's such a joy. Come on, is such a joy. Come on and take it easy. Come on and make it easy. Make it easy... Everybody's got something to hide, cept for me and my monkey.” The mind is a monkey and I guess you can fill in the blanks. Given the nature of a monkey you can assume there are a lot of blanks. Then... there is the Monkey on a Stick; Murder, Madness and the Hare Krishna Murders. You wonder how events like this can happen.
It should be clear by now that in this age of confusion, Religion is one of the linchpins of insanity. It contains the madness in a holding pattern, until the widening gyre fragments and things fall apart. The center will no longer hold.
“Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”
No greater poem has been written in the centuries of conflict preceding the moment we are in. It says it all ...and now... the mercenaries skulk into the Crimea, to force the issue and enrich the Tribe bankers and B52 cockroaches like Victoria Nuland and her, 'hail Satan' husband, Robert Kagan, who was one of the dual national architects of The Project for a New American Century and- by extension- the 9/11 attacks. The evidence for this is clear but the doomed sheep pay it no mind. They got their own injunctions of appetite. More than half of these sewer vermin are neo-con fascists by way of the fantasy land of Rothschild. All the parts of the puzzle interlink. A high school freshman could suss this out, while tens of thousands of college educated zombies have 'all you can eat' on their minds; the monkey dances, the reflection trembles and is equally as incoherent as the figure seeking to articulate it for the desirable prizes of appetite. More! More! More! I hunger without respite and it matters not who dies, at the hands of the uniformed armies of lies.
Why... against all the arguments of reason and prudence, do these slathering, mouth breathing monsters, persist in the creation of such carnage? They are whipped forward by their infernal master. They have no recourse but to make piles after pile of skulls, bleached white beneath the pitiless sun of darker doings in darker days. It's like Phnom Penh all over again; to paraphrase Yogi Berra.
The world is a lot easier to understand if you look at the whole dynamic of its operation as a Holy War. We are not speaking so much about one faith militarized against another, as we are referring to a War of Souls. Just as Nature sprouts in the Spring and comes to fruition in the summer, harvest time arrives eventually. The fruits are not brought into the silos and barns however, they are routed onward toward whatever destination is the sure and certain result of the thoughts, words and deeds of the residents here.
We have heard various arguments, for and against, the existence of Heaven and Hell ...but even casual observation on the doings of this plane make it quite clear that both Heaven and Hell exist in various forms right here and since; “as above so below,” one can reasonably presume that these places exist in more rarefied and even denser versions of themselves somewhere else. I believe what the Hindu traditions teach and I firmly believe that all of the other religions came out of these traditions, in the root beginnings ...and then came to be established, according whatever changes and schisms followed. In the Hindu and Buddhist traditions, of which the latter came out of the former, it is said that there are lokas; what we would call Heavens and they become more and more refined and blessed as they come to exist in ever more pristine and indescribable environments. One also remains in these locations for periods of longer and longer durations, based on the fineness of the locale. Knowledge of these locations is reserved for the very few. There is some kind of cosmic reason why so little is known about the worlds beyond. Atheists point to this as just one more argument that there are no worlds beyond. Most assuredly there are and a study of the various rays that exist in subtle nature will yield much reward for the committed investigator.
I have long been both dismayed and amused by such a large body of the populations that can, with little effort given, provide such sweeping pronouncements, concerning what they know nothing about. In the end, it seems to me that people arrive at the conclusions they desire, in order to justify and legitimize their life choices. They look for arguments and philosophies that affirm the world view that is most in accord with what they are after. This flies in the face of all that is reasonable but... we live in unreasonable times. One should seek to prove what is, in order to adapt to it and have the assurance of reality behind the conclusions they have proven through experience to be so. Of course, there is much that we cannot know but... it is possible to come into a state of abiding confidence in what one does not know, via the intuitive mathematics of what one does know. It's like algebra. You can shoot around corners. Most importantly, if you search for the ineffable (recognizing that the ineffable is searching for you), the ineffable will provide to your mind and heart, all things necessary and desirable to know.
I saw things in heightened states of awareness which proved beyond a shadow of doubt that there is not only a God but a vast and intricate celestial hierarchy. These evidences were provided to me over and over, across time, in such volume that I can remember only a small amount of everything and everyone I experienced and encountered. I was truly fortunate in this regard but... anyone could be. You just have to want it ...and drugs aren't necessary. Various disciplines can take the determined to states of consciousness well beyond anything that drugs can facilitate.
I caught some ration of shit for my use of Ketamine, which went on for several years but once those experiences that it could provide were exhausted, I never used it again.
There is a God my friends and you can choose the relationship you desire; father, mother, lover, friend and more. I chose 'friend'. Each relationship has its own special parameters of experience. Accept that God is real and set out to prove it to yourself in your daily adventures by simply loving the almighty and allowing the natural progression of this form of devotion to unwind into the destiny toward which it leads. Each of us are different and so each of our destinies will have a unique flavor to it. The terrain of landscape and experience may differ but the final result will not. God will reel you in like a fish. Once the hook is set you are done for, in the very best of ways.
There will be a radio broadcast Sunday night. The program starts at 8:00 Eastern and my segment comes on about half an hour later but James is always a good listen.
Saturday, August 13, 2016
Dog Poet Transmitting.......
Beamed from the Saucer Pod By Visible at 23:02
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