Dog Poet Transmitting.......
I saw a real box office piece of shit
last night called “Bridge of Spies”. I knew it was going to be
crap because all the usual bloated and bombastic critics loved it.
Through the movie I kept getting the impression that this was an
attempt to make us hate the Russians. It was boring and that is
probably one of the chief crimes any film can commit. It featured a
truly constipated acting job by industry hack, Tom Hanks. Several
times I asked myself, who is responsible for this piece of crap? I
found out with the closing credits, Steven Spielberg; not my favorite
director, whom I consider really juvenile at his craft. I would call
him the most overrated director, by comparison with his level of
success, pretending to be working today.
Then I saw Black Mass, actually I saw
this prior to but I'm being lazy. Man! Johnny Depp can play himself
some gangsta. It was pure evil and menace all through. What I like to
say about Johnny Depp is, when the make up goes on, Johnny doesn't
comes out, someone else does. I can't say I liked the film cause it
was dark and displays a world I would rather not come into contact
with.
Both films were about historical, real
life figures ...but only one of them was real or professionally done.
I didn't come here today to talk about films though. I came here to
segue into Halloween, which is an easy step off from Depp. Step from
Depp? Today I was in Long's Drugs to get a prescription. It's one of
those prescriptions that only the CIA and the DEA are allowed to
traffic in the product of; just like how only the real terrorists
don't get felt up by the perverts at the TSA. Anyway (digression
coming), I'm sitting there and waiting and even though Halloween has
yet to arrive, that odious tune, “Silver Bells” comes on, sung by
the avuncular misanthropic pipe felating, Bing Crosby. The song
sounds like the soundtrack playing in the minds of those wearing
Fentanyl patches on their way to the mortuary. Someone I knew died of
cancer in Germany and I got his remaining Fentanyl patches and I
tried them out. As a fearless pioneer of the chemical frontiers, I
'occasionally' field test certain things on a one off basis to see
what's going on there. This particular chemical is a death compound.
My intuitive nature was on full alert with it and that's my
prognosis. The Silver Bells, Fentanyl Highway to the River Styx is
how it is.
I don't like Halloween. After
Halloween, I don't like New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July, which
are the two major holidays for amateur night on the highways. I won't
go into why I don't like Halloween except to say that I don't
appreciate the celebration of the monsters within. Materialism fever
generates the monsters within, the same way that other fevers can
generate hallucinations. Why did I segue to Halloween if I am not
going to spend any time on it? FIIK. This is Petri Dish. We talk
about the culture so... so far so good except for weaving around the
place like a New Year's Eve driver on their way home, or somewhere
else.
Is this
an expression of the culture, or more specifically, political? I
suppose it is both so that's okay. It's worth reading because of the
dissembling of that odious, petri dish mucus composite from the
bottom of a Manila landfill, Dershowitz. He's a lot like Gerald
Rivero in too many ways to go into. In these times you get a surfeit
of personality types who are, forgive the language (but what else
can you call them?) sick fucks from Hell. The bitter pill to swallow
is the level of success so many of them have but I am not the envious
sort, nor obsessed with injustices that merely reflect my own
insubstantial success on the material plane. I know, in a place
inside myself that is unshakable that success depends on what you
have made out of yourself, not what you have made out of the world.
I, like you, am in the movie of my life and simply because so much is
hidden from me, I am firmly convinced that my focus MUST be on my
interior being. What is being hidden from me is very significant in
this regard. There is usually a very good reason that significant
features of yourself are concealed beyond every effort that can be
made to uncover them. We'll see (what? Heh heh). Another feature is
when out of left field bizarre things happen to you and through you
and there is no defining reason for any of it. This is a red flag,
metaphysically speaking.
I cannot hammer this point enough;
hammer it into myself and hammer it into you, for the purpose of
comprehension (grin). Life is about discovery and is composed of a
programmed litany of experiences devoted to that end. If you don't
discover that, which the experiences are set up to reveal to you, you
are condemned to a variation on the theme until you do get it. Here
is where the number one killer of human life comes into play; no
matter what the disease manifestation turns out to be, it is usually
brought about by, 'stress'. Stress is generated when you oppose the
discovery that is provided to you by life experiences. You resist it.
You enter into the realm of denial and the force of energy play
between the poles of who you are and who you told yourself you are,
generates higher and higher degrees of stress because you are doing
things you don't want to do, thinking things you don't want to think
and feeling things you don't want to feel because this is all that is
available to you, as you skirt the discoveries of the truth about
yourself. It is the fear of seeing whatever that is which keeps your
awareness at bay. The sad reality is that what you would discover is
wonderful. It is not frightening, except insofar as the
responsibility that comes with it. You are responsible for what you
know and never more so than when it turns out to be true.
Even borderline intellects should be
aware that Obama is a preening psychopath and that Zionism sets the
tone for all political policy in The United States, The United
Kingdom, Canada, Australia. Even a Schmoo should know that the
official line on 9/11 and Bin Laden and his improbable demise are
fatuous and impossible lies. A Schmoo might not know that Israel was
behind 9/11 but they could if they had even a small amount of
curiosity about the matter but the truth is, they don't want to know,
based on some variety of 'curiosity killed the cat'. See... even if
people know something is very wrong they are not inclined to find out
what it is because they become responsible for it. It is much safer
to make fun of those who tell the truth because in these times, lies
are the negotiable currency of the day. Counterfeits trump the
authentic across the board. Unless, of course you are a member of the
few, the proud and the brave and I'm not talking about The Marines,
who may number among their kind some solid fellows but who more often
than not are composed of those who kill on command for Satanic
bankers and aren't even aware of it. They are playing video games in
their minds.
This brings us to the real problem
going on all over the place and that is manipulation. You're aware of
the obvious manipulations of the media in all its forms and the way
the direction of the entertainment industry is skewered ever more and
more into the depraved. Then there are the other manipulations that
have to do with government policy and the education system and these
can seem less obvious because they are made to seem necessary and are
overseen by professionals, who are supposed to have our best
interests at heart... but they don't. Then there is the manipulations
we perform on each other, due to these other manipulations performed
on us by the aforementioned. Stockholm Syndrome is an epidemic in all
kinds of ways that might not look like what it is but it is.
The whole game is about making one
thing look like another and then make that other look like yet
another and that is how you get to where nothing is what it seems and
it's perfectly okay, until the stress of it makes you too sick to
continue. The only difference between sheep on the hooks and sheep in
wingtips and high heels is a matter of appearances. The same result
occurs to them both, it just doesn't look that way. They are both
consumed by someone. The sheep wind up in all kinds of culinary
displays from patties to racks with a green jelly garnish and the
wingtips and high heels are stuffed with particular compositions over
the course of time, to please the palate of the entities who dine
upon them. They are not consumed at one sitting but in stages, over
time, until they look like they have been hollowed out from within by
invisible fires. As Mikhael Aivanhov said, “If people were aware of
who was having lunch while they were having sex they would be a lot
more careful about it all.” I'm paraphrasing but that is the gist
of it.
Alright my friends! We have come to the
end of another posting and I'll see you next time if there is one. In
the meantime, may you find what waits in that place of discovery that
is the fruit of every experience which comes before you should you be
able to see it. That said, the usual salutation follow.
End Transmission.......
Sunday's radio show is
still awaiting your consideration in the usual location.
