Missive From ‘Merica: Sumfin For The We Kenned

Happy Friday, Dear Reader 😀

Hot on the heels of yesterday’s missive, we have another from the Okie Devil of Text US…

*Yeah, and it has some wavy wikiwall pools for you to explore, Clicky…*

Enjoy! ❤

*******

WHAZZUP!?!?

It’s Thursday December 3rd of 2020, and…fuck! Can you give me a sec? I promise I’m not ignoring you, just receiving a call, and I really need to take this. Mind if I put you on hold for a sec? Thanks. ❤

X: You’re about to open a can of worms.

Cade: I know.

T: You really think that’s prudent?

Cade: Prudence is a strange topic when you’re in the big middle of a shit-storm.

A: How so?

Cade: It occurs to me that, during extraordinary times, “prudence” would be measured in seconds, or maybe minutes.

X: Not days, weeks, months, years, etc..

Cade: Correct. If you’re in a trench in 1916, each and every thing that you do, whether prudent or imprudent, is gonna vastly affect your continued ability to measure and mark time.

X: Living one second to the next.

Cade: Yes. Do I raise my head up, have a peek, and hope no one puts a bullet in it? Or do I keep my head down and wait for a more opportune time.

0: You ever wonder what “an opportune time” would be in those circumstances?

Cade: Welp, I would think in that situation, one would either have to rely upon one’s own gut feelings as to how best to proceed, or maybe the instincts of a commander who is putting a boot in your butt irrespective of your own internal inclinations.

X: In one set of circumstances you have a choice, and in another, the choice is not yours to make.

Cade: Yes. Just thinking that “prudence” can get lost in situations where the consequences are much more immediate and dire.

Z: Almost opens one’s self to being a scapegoat.

Cade: Or at least a tool or some kind of leverage for another purpose.

X: Care to elaborate?

Cade: Well, just thinking that one could make a thousand “good” decisions…

Z: But it’s the one bad decision that you’ll be remembered for.

Cade: Yes. You’ve been on the line and hugging that berm for ages, peeked over the edge a thousand times, but the one time you look and your brains get dislodged from your cranium?

X: You did a bad thing.

Cade: That’s what I’m thinking. Your “prudence” is suddenly measured by that one event, and not the multiple events that allowed you to arrive there in the first place.

X: And how does this relate to your thoughts on the concept of prayer in the presence of a deity?

Cade: Or deities.

0: We get the point, get on with it already.

Cade: Just occurs to me that “prayer” is an odd concept to entertain when one is in the presence of one or more deities. Seems…oddly self-serving. Fucking hell, I dunno, just a weird thought I’ve danced with for a while.

Z: Can you elaborate a bit? Even I’m lost.

Cade: Let’s say one is given an audience with God and their merry pack of miscreants and hooligans. You’re standing around chatting about the weather and fashion trends, and suddenly, it occurs to you that you have a friend back home who is sick.

X: Your first impulse is to…pray, for that someone?

Cade: Yes. I’m just that dense.

X: Standing in the presence of The Creator & Co., and you have the desire to pray for someone else because you thought of them. Interesting.

T: You think maybe instead of praying, you could…I dunno, ask?

Cade: That’s not as straightforward as it seems.

0: It isn’t?

Cade: Hell no it isn’t. I’m a human being. Being in the presence of all the Universal big-wigs doesn’t mean that I abandon who and what I am. Also doesn’t give me license to clear my own personal wish-list just because I have their ear.

X: Ears.

Cade: I was gonna say that.

A: Protocols…plural.

Cade: That’s…yes…I’m thinking of that.

A: But?

Cade: But I’m also thinking of the fact that “prayer” in this instance could be construed as me trying to secretly communicate a something to the Almighty, even tho I’m in their presence and the fucker is right in front of me.

0: Wait. Wait, wait, wait…wait just a second here. Prayer, whilst in the presence of God, is secret communication?

Cade: Way to put words into my mouth.

X: I think they are just trying to understand.

Cade: That makes two of us.

B: May I interject?

Cade: By all means.

B: You are saying that, just because “God” can hear your prayers, the others cannot?

Cade: I have no idea if that is the case or not. But I have thought that this may be the case, yes.

B: So you are concerned about having a side-conversation on the sly, with God, whilst you are in the presence of not only God, but also all these other higher-ups.

Cade: Correct. But I also don’t want to sperg and verbalize just because a thought popped into my head, and now might be an opportune time to bring up the subject considering where I am.

B: Because you are in the presence of the gods.

Cade: One would figure at least one of the fuckers might be able to do something about it.

B: And if they don’t?

Cade: That’s the rub isn’t it. Since when is any god or deity or some other ethereal entity mine to command?

X: Sounds like a prudent course.

Cade: When I was younger, sure, “the gods” are my own personal ATM machine from which to dispense funds whenever I demand it.

Z: Do you even have an account at that bank?

Cade: Good fucking question. I have no answer for you tho. Christianity sure seems to think that you have to be a member of the guild before blessings will be dispensed.

0: And if you aren’t a member of the guild?

Cade: Luckily, there are two. You get defaulted into the shit-show, and you have to make a conscious effort to join the winning team.

X: You join a team, simply because they are the winning team?

Cade: That’s what it says in The Book. The game is rigged, the fix is in, the match outcome has already been decided, now it’s just a matter of going through the motions. If you want to be a winner, put your money on the Christians.

0: Sounds as if it is prudent to sign up.

Cade: Here on Earth/Terra, it’s very frowned upon to stack teams, simply because you have the money to do so.

B: Moneyball.

Cade: Yes. The deep pockets can afford the primo players, which means they can tip the scales in their favor in order to better increase their odds of winning the big games.

Z: The house always wins.

Cade: In gambling, yes, but I see what you are saying I think.

0: “The house”, is those big-wigs.

Cade: Rumor is, they created it all, they own it all, they can do whatever in the hell they want with it. But now I’m thinking about the “houses” in Astrology, and I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

T: Maybe you should pray.

Cade: Sounds prudent.

0: Is it prudent to keep writing?

Cade: No idea. I have less than two years to get the fuck outta here, and currently, things look quite glum.

0: No, I meant all the stuff you are about to write below.

Cade: No idea, but I’m gonna do it.

X: You see what you see.

Cade: I wrangle over what to write or not write more than most prolly think.

X: You see.

Cade: I see what I see, and share it. Me actually understanding a something is an exception, not the rule.

X: Big game.

Cade: Sure seems that way. I’m not fond of that particular association tho.

X: Blood, sweat and tears.

Cade: Waters.

X: …

Sorry, that call was a bit more lengthy than I expected. You now have my undivided.

😛

^Love and Rockets – Mirror People ’88^

Anyone remember 9/11? Afghanistan? Operation Iraqi Freedom? Guantanamo Bay and all those pictures of “brown people” in orange jumpsuits?

Orange (Colour)
Brown
Syncretism
CREB
Major Depressive Disorder
CREB®
COVID-19 Resources for Calgarians
Calgary
Penal Labour
Krebs, Oklahoma
Citric Acid Cycle
Eustis, Florida
Citrus Production
Triple Sec
Trump lawyer: ex-election security chief Krebs should be ‘taken out and shot’
Fair-Weather Friend
Fair-Weather Friend
Don’t allow ‘foul weather friend’ to abuse good will
The foul-weather friend
Language Of The Birds
Huginn and Muninn
Svadhishthana
Orange Is The New Black
Danbury, Connecticut
13
“Incomplete Pass: Elliott-Marino Motorsports”
Miami Dolphins

Hey…don’t bitch at me. Its a busy planet. Lots going on.

^Butthole Surfers – “Moving to Florida”^

One of the easier ways to acquire real estate, or at least acquire an interest in certain properties, is gonna be via the/a banking system. If your country does not provide for foreign ownership, no problem…use a foreign funds to purchase said property and utilize intermediaries. You can tie up stuff in all kinds of red tape, and leverage the living shit out of it.

Debt = Power. 

Sure there is risk, but the rewards are massive. Question is, how does one “foreclose” on an entire country. Especially if that country has claws.

A: Clause trumps claws.

For some it will anyway. I guess the trick is to position one’s self in a portion of the water column where you remain the apex predator. Sure, there are plenty of much more ferocious creatures in the sea, but they don’t swim in these waters.

^Nategawd, Flo Rida & Lil Jon “Take A Shot And Make A Tik Tok” (Official Video)^

All of this came of a personal sync this morning in learning that someone who I did not know, has died of a heart-attack at the ripe old age of 33. I knew of them, but I did not actually know them. Prolly played a video game with them, and may have even yelled at them a time or two on an Internet forum, but yeah, didn’t really know them.

It appears they may have worked in the mortgage industry, as did I, so we had that in common also. Would also appear that they were from Canada, and Canada has this weird kind of “ground zero” type feeling about it regarding synchromysticism. Dunno if the dude was into this tho, and they may not have been spiritual at all as far as I know.

Personal syncs are typically real easy to work out. They apply to you, and may even be specifically for you, but explaining personal syncs to others?

Dicey. Sketchy. Difficult. 

Hardly anyone on this entire planet gives a flying fuck about me, and most people on this planet don’t even know I exist. So with that in mind, how do I, explain a somewhat mystical synchronistic event to a bunch of strangers? How do I explain to them that “HEY! This weird shit just happened, a bunch of tumblers fell into place, and this means something!”

???

Yeah, I’ve nothing specific, and I’m not gonna assign a bunch of predefined meaning(s) to this/these event(s) just so it will make sense to you, but I’m telling you…this means something.

^deadmau5 – A City In Florida (1080p) II HD^

No idea why I do this. I wrestled with the idea for quite a few years as to whether I should start writing or not. As to why I decided to give it a whirl? Simple…I wanted a return. I wanted some answers. Why is all this weird shit happening, why has it intensified now, and is there anyone out there who is experiencing anything similar? Perhaps if I open up, they will too, and maybe all of us can, together, figure out what in the fucking hell all this nonsense is.

But yeah also, I wanted to help. 

Fuck it…if others are being tight-lipped because they are scared shitless, welp I understand that, but as for me, I’m going for it. Maybe someone out there needs to hear what I have to say. Poor bastard(s). If you are needing to hear anything I have to say, you must be in some deep shit, and I empathize.

^Slap Shot – I’ll be staying in Florida^

I am not a paranormal investigator. Certainly not one with any street cred as to a someone who goes out into the field looking for weird and strange shit in order to better understand it. Due to my personal situation, I’m more of a bookworm type. I sit and wait for the weird and strange shit to come to me, irrespective of the form(s) these entities may assume. And let me tell you, some of the shit that somehow worms its way into my tiny 10′ x 13′ cell can be quite diverse.

^This Is What F-22 Engine Startup Sounds Like^

This is not a challenge, nor is it a test. It’s a demonstration. Put “being right” and “being wrong” on the shelf for a moment, and maybe just be an observer/participant with no agenda for the next few minutes. Below is a video for a band called The Knife, and the song is “We Share Our Mother’s Health”.

Phase One: play the video below, but mute the sound. This time through, we are just going to watch the video and see what we see.

Phase Two: Replay the video, unmute the sound, but do not watch the video. Minimize your browser window if you need, just make sure that you do not watch the video. Listen to the video only.

Phase Three: Replay the video, listen to it, and watch it.

^The Knife – We Share Our Mothers Health^

On #HauntedHour last night, the topic/poll was what kind of paranormal experience one would like to have:

A: Seeing;

B: Hearing;

C: Feeling;

D: NOPE! Fuck this shit, I’m out!

I um…I…ay yi yi…

how do I say this without being dishonest? 

Um…I do not consider myself a paranormal experiencer. Yes, I can safely say that I’ve experienced a lot of weird shit in my life, but as to whether any of it is supernatural or not? No idea. That said, those experiences involving sound tend to be the most reliable as to being accurately indicative that something is amiss. Not only can you hear sound, many times, you can feel it. Sound is also going to carry much more data as to location, distance, intensity, and you can quickly and accurately form a picture in your mind as to your own position in space proximate to the goings on. If the sound repeats, you can zero on it quickly and accurately. I would think that one of the important things, as an investigator, would be to rely on your own internal sample library as to individual sounds, what they are, what they could be, and why these sounds would exist irrespective of whether a location is “haunted” or not.

^The Tucker Zone (A 3D Sound Experience) (Wear Earphones)^

The physical stuff isn’t likely to change just because a location is haunted. There’s likely to be walls, ceilings, floors, paint, pipes, sink or bathtub/shower fixtures, maybe electrical wiring, electrical outlets, carpet, doors, door hinges, door knobs, windows, glass, stone, wood, metal(s)…

you prolly get the point. 

Identify the stuff in your environment, and know the noises they can make. Maybe when first arriving at a new location, wander around banging on shit for a while just so you know how certain things may sound. You are likely in a new environment afterall, and considering the nature of construction and construction materials and how these things can vary, banging on a hotel wall may sound completely different than what it sounds like banging on one of your own walls at home. Same with the springs in a bed, or maybe the water spigot in the bathroom, or that squeaky third drawer in the nightstand.

Now that you’ve acquainted yourself a bit with your new environment, you can better know what certain things may sound like, and you’ll also know whether or not you or someone else with you here in the physical realm is the trigger for a certain sound happening. If the top door hinge on the bathroom door squeaks, its prolly better to know that in advance. Know your environment in order to better interact with it, and to better zero in on and identify stuff that is…out of place.

Phase Four: listen to the below, watch the below, and see if you notice anything different in the video. It’s the same song as above, same band.

^The Knife – We Share Our Mother’s Health (Shaken-Up Version) Live At Terminal 5^

Certain frequencies can cause nausea.

Sonic Weapon

Long Range Acoustic Device

I’ve read stuff about people having disorientation or maybe becoming nauseated when having paranormal types of experiences, and I’m wondering if maybe it could be related to sound(s) being present. These sounds are inaudible, but you sure as shit can feel them/your body detects them. Another thing to consider is that maybe the presence of a visual spectre, with a lack of secondary indications such as sound or touch. This, too, may cause nausea. I know that one of the problems that “virtual reality” has is that the eyes are basically seeing things, but the inner-ear revolts because there’s nothing to substantiate what the eyes are seeing. Just thinking that maybe a visual sighting of a ghost or whatever that has no accompanying secondaries, that maybe any resulting nausea is the secondary indicator/ is indicative that a very real something has indeed been seen.

Graveyard Spiral
Sound in Filmmaking: How to Use Sound to Heighten Emotions in a Film
Schumann Resonances
Bioelectromagnetics
Chemistry (Relationship)
Earthquake Sensitivity
Disturbances in equilibrium function after major earthquake

All kinds of weird shit going on all the time, but we appear to have some filters in place that more or less blind us to some of the intricacies of the Universe. Having the blinders removed is…

eye-opening.
^Klaxons – Gravity’s Rainbow^

A final thought would be that, I assume anyway, that paranormal type stuff is gonna be busting some veils. Or at least maybe making them wobble a bit. And what happens when you wobble a piece of film or a membrane or a diaphragm or whatever?

Seven Trumpets
The Beast (Revelation)
Sometimes, horns and trumpets happen. Perhaps not always Armageddon, but certainly something noisy.
Horn
Trumpet
Moving air...vibrating membranes.
^Klaxons; What makes them sound like that?^

COMIN’ THRU!!!!!

I'd never heard that sound until a coupla years ago.
^TARDIS sounds^

You know how I know if I’m depressed? If all I want to do is sleep, I’m depressed. I fucking hate sleep. Way too full of piss and vinegar to waste time on sleeping. I wanna be on the go, moving, doing something. Past coupla months tho? Sleep.

Sleep sleep sleep. 

It’s all I wanna do. No idea why I’m depressed, but I am.

Catching up on some sleep tho.
^Soulwax – Gravity’s Rainbow^

Air is gonna be a buffer between life and earth.

Water is gonna be more of a negotiator between life and earth.

Fire too will be a negotiator of sorts, but between life and air.

Buffer. Repel. Repel and/or attract.

You’ll need to contextualize with an anecdotal something in order to relate.

A bath. A swim. A flood.

A fire. A fireplace. On fire.

A breath. A breeze. A gale.

A flower. A potato. Quicksand.

^Love and Rockets – Ball Of Confusion^
Hrm...

I’m guessing that the polyethelene glycol is added to allow the vaccine to be frozen while still preventing it from freezing. Maybe, as an added bonus, it’ll give you a case of the shits, post-vaccination.

Polyethylene Glycol
Macromolecular Crowding
Precipitation (Chemistry)

I’ve already got enough autoimmune issues and allergies, and my DNA is almost assuredly a trainwreck. Do I really need to be even more fucked up than I already am?

Q: Can someone who is really messed up and requires all kinds of special considerations just to survive, really be considered “alive”?

A: ó¿ó

Some conspiratorial fodder for you dystopian types to chew on.

Because I cannot participate in a majority of the activities available to humans on this planet, I am…dead. Maybe not dead, but certainly not alive.

Less-alive? 

Incapable of participating in and contributing to the whole in such a way as to justify my continued existence. A burden. A drain. A waste of space that could be better occupied by a productive someone who isn’t me. Seeing as how I’m not alive, it’s kinda open season on me and my ilk, and there are no consequences. Can’t kill/murder something that isn’t alive.

Hrm…now why does this type of thinking ring a bell?

^Devo | Beautiful World | Official Video^

cYacFa

^Vance Joy – Riptide @Live Lollapalooza Brasil 2017^

*******

*/squints… Clausewitz trumps clause?*

*I know ‘vaccine’ comes from ‘cow’, Clicky… /yawns… I fink I’ll go have a snooze..*

Enjoy your we kenned, Dear Reader. Have a Song…

Missive From ‘Merica: Chewing The Phat

*What? We’ve got a missive to post, Clicky…*

*Oh, you’re thinking of the recent accent conversation…*

*Yeah, I ain’t seen that movie yet, Clicky. No idea how Riff-Raff speaks…*

*Blimey. I never knew that… /lights up and smokes… Can we get on formatting the fucking post now?*

*******

My newest band is called…

Four

Fucks

Ache

The new album “Never Mined The Bliss Tours” will drop in November.

^deadmau5 – Bridged By A Lightwave^

Bool Locks

Boo Lox

Bull Ox

Hares

Hairs

Heirs
Sechs Pieced Oles

Sex Peace Tulls

Sex Piss Tolls

I got a question...

Q: How long can a spell make confusion linger within the resonance of a language itself?

A: ???¿¿¿

I’d think that it’s gonna have to right itself at some point. And yes, I get that certain “spells” might be required in order to give…erm…”the creators”, a break. Create a barrier, or some kind of separation, and let the thing run for as long as it does. Give those on both sides of the membrane a chance to figure out some things on their own, and without direct interference from the other side. Yes, I’m thinking about spells, and how they can be nested within a language so as to reinforce and/or extend that spell for a long as possible.

^Icona Pop x SOFI TUKKER – Spa (Visualizer) [Ultra Music]^

Dunno anything about magic. Or magik. Or majick. I do know that I’m leery about “getting into it”. I spent 13 years trying to improve my station via drugs, I’ve been off the fucking things for almost 6.5 years, and the thought of starting to perform rituals and casting spells, yeah, that doesn’t hold a lot of appeal to me. I don’t wanna become dependent upon it. Don’t wanna have to deal with the escalation either. And based on my limited reading, that exactly what’s gonna happen. Once I open that door, I’ll have to be dependent upon it, and it will have to escalate.

I first cast a spell to keep the weevils out of the flour in my cabinets, then I’m casting spells to keep the neighbors dog from shitting on my lawn, then I’m casting spells to get a gal, casting spells to make my cock bigger, casting spells to get more money, casting spells to make my car get better gas mileage, and before you know it I’m casting spells in the hopes of influencing elections in various parts of the world.

What in the FUCK kind of future is that? 

And what really gets my goat about this nonsense, is that many of these “earthy” fuckers who damn big business and big government for being evil, power hungry and money-grubbing shitbags, welp, you’re doing the same shit via different avenues. Trying like hell to get the entire planet to dance to your tune, simply because it suits you.

^Course of Empire – God’s Jig^

You really don’t think you can damn “them” in good conscience, do you?

Opportunity knocks.

They jump on the opportunity.

You see your opportunity and jump on them.

2020 – year of the leapfrog.

Erm…leapfrogs…pluralish.

^deadmau5 – I Said (Michael Woods Remix)^

Mainstream media, alternative press, freelancers, independent journalists, social media, content creators…

its the wild fucking west, and everyone wants a piece. 

There’s already a cornucopia of crazy shit going on in the world, then comes the impeachment of President Trump, then along slouches this nCoV-2019 thing in a US election year. Everything from Assange to Ukraine/Russia to yellow vests to Hong Kong to Brexit to China to pizza gate to climate change is suddenly on the back burners. Everyone is simultaneously petrified, and it actually looks as tho some world-unifying event is about to transpire…

then up jumps the devil in the form of an arrest gone wrong. 

“The Press” has to be pissing themselves in disbelief at their good fortune.

^Calvin Harris – Sweet Nothing (Official Video) ft. Florence Welch^

Just occurred to me that, if I were to change professions and become a sex worker, I’d still be just as unemployed as I am now. Was brainstorming some ideas for employment, and I got to wondering if anyone would be willing to pay for my company.

lolz...

It then occurred to me that a change in profession would almost assuredly not change my employability. Unless of course there is a market where there are women who like to engage in conversation about the mysteries of the Universe and are seeking a tubby, borderline disabled, middle-aged hairy dude. Guess the safe bet is for me to stick with writing.

^The XX Intro long version]^

Lightning and thunder are, different faces of the same animal. However, the further one gets from the source, the more independent these entities appear. Lightning leads, thunder follows. Of course, if one were to get far enough away from the source, only the lightning would appear to exist. Thunder, is absent.

@ source – lightning/thunder coexist

@ distance – lightning occupies one space/thunder occupies another space

@ great distance – lightning exists/thunder does not

There appear to be no entry procedures for one being…erm…“put on the spiritual path”.

It just kinda happens. 

I’m assuming the same may go for one being kicked off the spiritual path. Again, it just kinda happens. One is likely to encounter a lot of people talking about getting on the spiritual path, being on the spiritual path, and even staying on the spiritual path. Not much is said in the way of how to handle being kicked out of the program. You may still be able to see the lightning, but the thunder is gone. Soon, even the lightning will be gone.

Back in the darkness, and alone.

^i_o – No Sleep (Official Lyric Video)^

i_o has died. 

😦

What’s that? You wanna know who the flying fuck “i_o” even is/was? Well, allow me to share a parable via Rudyard Kipling.

The Ship That Found Herself

Funny how we may notice the bricks, but never the mortar.

^i_o – Dancing 2020^

Suppose it’s possible that you’ve not really been kicked out of the program, as much as maybe you’re moving into a new phase of your development that you do not yet understand. It may even be a more precise something that is specific to you and you alone. Maybe a something to get you to not get too hung up on the sweet and the sparklies. Get you away from the group for a while so you don’t get too entrenched in “the whole”. A cycle. A something that you need to experience, but can only experience it via being pushed away from the glitz and glamour that comes with all that love and light bullshit. Walk a section of the path that you never would have walked had all that intriguing shit not gotten you in the door.

Sweet
Savory
Spicy
Salty
Sour
Bitter
Sharp

The menu has changed. Restaurant is the same. Maybe the staff is undergoing some changes. Maybe even some changes in management. Are you equipped to handle change(s)? You might just need some training, and not even know you need it.

^Red Rider – Lunatic Fringe^

We basically just spent a year in silence. Were gifted a chance to remove some of the drone of the background noise(s) of our times…and what did we do?

Filled that silence with a bunch of bitching. 

The togetherness lasted all of about a week. Ten days tops. All of that free time to think, and all of that free time to entertain hypotheticals proved too much. The potential eventualities were just too scary, and those empty streets were just too real. Too many coincidences. Nevermind that all this shit has happened before. You coulda rode out that silence in awe and wonder. Too much at stake I guess.

^Manufacture – As The End Draws Near (1988) [HQ]^

Don’t sweat being lost too much.

Also 

don’t sweat being demoted.

From the fringiest of fringes, to the deadest of dead-ends, to the lowest of lows, to the most uncharted regions of the lost, I’ll be there. Or at least, I’m likely to be loitering nearby and within earshot. If nothing else, you’ll have someone to talk to.

🙂

^The Doors – Break on Through (To the Other Side)^

cYacFa

^Bassnectar – Bass Head (Official)^

*******

*And we’re dun! Cade dun arf pen incite fool missives, Clicky… /looks about… Clicky?*

*I was saying, I’ve dun formatting Cade’s missive. Wot’s wiv the sheep?*

*Crumbs…*

 

 

Adventures In Remote Viewing: Gnostaligia

The longing for a distant place also necessarily involves a separation in time.’

*The Galactic Centre is ‘home’ for Aeon Sophia, Clicky… /lights up… according to the Gnostics… /drags… and Lashy… /streams smoke…*

*Connecting Veras? …/winks… Nice syncing, Clicky…*

Last evening, Dear Reader, Cade Fon Apollyon and I remote viewed an old movie from 1972. I hadn’t seen ‘What’s Up Doc?’ since I was a teenager, lying on the front room carpet, surrounded by family, watching it on the telly…

*Igneous rock teaching humans how to sing… /deep drag… And Judy was my mother’s name… /flicks ash… Plus all the 4th wall breaking… /plumes smoke…*

… It got me to thinking about John Lamb Lash’s Fallen Goddess Scenario, an how homesick the Aeon Sophia probably feels…

*Whether she was tripped, jumped or fell from the Galactic Centre, the Gnostics referred to Sophia’s fall as an ‘accident’, Clicky… /clears throat…*

… How many billions of years she would have traveled, and will still have to travel to reach her home…

 

*Oh yeah, Lashy mentioned a dragon… /stubs butt… Cosplay’s the thing…*

… And that she must get lonely sometimes…

*Did he say ‘alright’ or ‘all right’?*

*Pfft… /rolls eyes… That election was rigged as fuck. Blatant…*

*Um… /thinks… I fink you mean censure knot censor… /pats snout… I guess it’s a similar effect for President Trump, Clicky. With a touch of underdog… /winks…*

… Ooh, that reminds me, Dear Reader. A couple of weeks ago, Leg Iron Books published all my Underdog Anthology stories in one volume…

… Currently it’s ranked 32,656 in ‘Erotic Literature & Fiction’ at Amazon…

*Jus’ free pence short. Yikes! My first ever royalties…*

… The Underdog Anthology, numero XIII is due out this weekend. I have a brand new story in there. It’s a follow-up to ‘What Time Do You Finish?’…

*And how! …/smirks…*

And there will be a new Missive From ‘Merica from Cade the Okie Devil of Text US, here tomorrow. Woo Hoo! 😀 We’ll see you then and… Have a Song 😉

Missive From ‘Merica: Welcome to Fitty Free…

Today is Cade F. Apollyon’s birthday, Dear Reader…

*Don’t worry about it, Clicky. You’re included in our birthday gift to Cade…  /lights up and smokes… Chill…*

*Go find him sumfin he’ll appre-*

*-ciate. Whoa, that was fast!*

… Yes, the Okie Text US Devil has finally arrived at 53, and he’s sent us a missive. So settle back and enjoy! 😀

*******

Hey Guys!

Hay Guise!

Hey Guys!

Hague Eyes!

Hey Guys!

Hey Guise!

^The Smiths – The Smiths – The Headmaster Ritual^

You ever get that strange feeling that something is…not right? Something is askew. Amiss. Not necessarily anything particularly nefarious, just…missing. Whatever it is isn’t there, so you can’t actually see what is missing, in order to know what is missing. There’s just a hole or void. You begin to rack your brain as to what that big empty space is. Where’d that nothing come from? What did that nothing replace? Yeah, there’s something there now, but it is nothing, so what was there previously?

I’ve been (somewhat actively) on Twitter for coming up on four years now. I don’t follow a whole lotta people, and even less people follow me. I don’t look for people to follow, I don’t follow famous people*, which means that virtually everyone I follow, I kinda know. Or at least, I have a pretty good idea as to why that person/account caught my eye….I know why I followed that person/account…and yeah I don’t really know them. I likely read their tweets, I like to acknowledge tweets sometime just to let that someone know that someone out there actually saw and read their tweet, I tend to notice when a someone hasn’t tweeted in a while, I notice when someone stops tweeting entirely, and I tend to notice when someone follows me or unfollows me.

Blocks? Not so much as they tend to by accounts you don’t follow and/or don’t who don’t follow you. Shadow-bans? Again kinda tricky to notice since they aren’t actually blocking you. Mutes? Again not so much since (ironically) people on Twitter tend not to engage others in discussion or debate, or are weird about how they acknowledge you. But when someone deletes their account? Yeah, you gotta dig a bit to find this out this is why an account has disappeared, but you do notice (if you are paying attention anyway).

So when you find out that some interesting someone has vanished from your Twitter feed, you look and see that they are no longer following you, and worse, you are mysteriously no longer following them?

FUCK!!! THEY BLOCKED ME!!! 

Or they’ve shadow-banned me. What in the hell did I say that offended them?! Then you do some digging, find out that…”oh, they’ve deleted their account, fuck”, then you notice that they appear to have been more or less the center of some kind of conversational tempest with a few people just prior to deleting their account.

😦

*I tend only to follow accounts that 1) catch my eye because of some interesting tweet they’ve made which somehow winds up on my feed (usually artsy-fartsy types), 2) is a topical something on a subject that interests me, or 3) is just some random something in the moment which has no rational explanation. All that to say, I don’t really seek out accounts to follow, and certainly not personal accounts. This whole “following” thing still kinda gives me the creeps. Makes me feel like someone is following me. Or worse, I’m following someone.

/yeesh

^Failure Band – Golden^

In ye olden days, e-nerds would have called this “a rage quit” or maybe said “they got flamed” or “they were owned/pwned/quiz0wned”. Someone gets so angry or frustrated that they bail on a forum discussion or chat conversation or bail on an online game or whatever e-activity they were involved in. Maybe even abandon a community entirely, delete their account, vanish forever. Or at least, vanish under that particular identity. There are even people out there who intentionally stir up shit for this very reason. They want to encourage others into a rage quit.

Wikipedia: Rage Quit
Flaming (Internet)
Trash-Talk – Smack Talk
Internet Troll
Griefer
Internet Celebrity (Redirected from Influencer)
Influencer
Netiquette
Etiquette In Technology
Kecak

Really don’t know what happened in this particular case. Just know that a Twitter account is gone, there are signs that there may have been a kerfuffle of some kind which led to this account being deleted, and it sucks that they are gone. All that said, letting go is sometimes the right thing to do. The Twitter world is a bit more dim now, but they appear to be looking out for themselves, and that’s a good thing.

Cya around maybe

^love and rockets – an american dream^

Etiquette is whatever we make it. Standards are whatever we make them.

We also choose whether or not to adhere.

Whether or not to pursue those who do not adhere.

^Pale Saints – Sight of You (Official Video)^

I’d hope that people “follow me” on social media because they have some kind of interest in me. Not just and only because of some group that I belong to, or because of some social construct that I claim to support, or because my interactions appear to tow a particular line, etc..

Prolly just a pipe dream.

A wet one of course.

Idealistic.

Idealism.

^Pixies – Velouria (Official Video)^

!!!MOVIES REVIEW TIME !!!

Yes...plural

Ravoo A: Myself and a certain someone watched a flick yesterday called “LA Story”.

L.A. Story

When the movie was over, best I could sum it up was “that movie was WAY ahead of its time”. Now that I’ve had a bit to think about it, it occurs to me that the movie was ahead of its time mainly because it used bits from Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Now, I gotta clarify here that “ahead of its time” because LA Story reintroduces the concept of mysticism. Somewhere along the way, “mysticism” appears to have been replaced with “supernatural”, and now everything mystical has to be accompanied by fact, otherwise its just myth of the completely fake and totally unsubstantiated variety. Anything without proof or some concrete and shareable/relatable something is almost certainly false. Hordes of people all over the globe are chasing all this weird shit that is happening, but none of it is real. ‘Tis an unusual concept to ponder…all mystical experiences must be a unified thing, otherwise, they don’t exist. I guess some people don’t like to feel they are being left out. And hey, I can relate. All these fuckers are seeing gods and aliens and ghosts and cryptids, and I personally ain’t seen shit.

Makes a fella skeptical

Ravoo B: Today watched a something called “The Game”.

The Game (1997 Film)

Pretty sure I’ve finally figured out why I tend to hate much of 1980’s and 1990’s cinema. Everyone is fragile, and these fragile people are ALWAYS on the cusp of violence. Anything will set them off, and I do many anything. The slightest of hiccups will fracture that calm, cool, collected and highly polished veneer. To make matters worse, violence is the only answer. The only solution. No one, and I mean NO ONE, sucks it up and takes it on the chin. Very eye for an eye…’cept it’s usually more like “please me, or else”.

Something else that I notice about 80’s/90’s cinema? It follows a very similar model to music of the same time…the quiet/loud/quiet or loud/quiet/loud. Everything, is peaks and valleys. Nothing but peaks and valleys. Rises and falls are almost irrelevant. The point of getting on the ride, is to get to the end. The first part of the 1st act is important, the end of the 3rd act is important, but everything in between is just space for timed silence and noises that validate the premise and conclusion.

^Pixies – Monkey Gone To Heaven (Official Video)^

Rage is more likely to be the fat end of the wedge.

Fury is more likely to be the thin end.

Either way, you’re still swinging an axe.

Or a maul.

Or a hammer if you are old school.

^Cocteau Twins – Cherry-Coloured Funk (Live at Black Sessions).^

I’ve been abducted by aliens twice.

First time, some aliens grabbed me and took me to their home planet.

Second time, the aliens that abducted me the first time, paid some other aliens to abduct me from their planet, and bring me back to Earth.

^U.S. Girls – Overtime (Alex Frankel Remix)^

Monty died.

😦

Seeya around girl.

^Missing Persons – Noticeable One^

It would appear that some are sometimes confused when I write about the contents of a video, then post the video in question, without always specifically stating that “this block of text references the video below”. It is with this in mind that I wish to pose a question…

Q: How were Antarctic Nazis poisoned by polar bear meat?

A: ???

I once read in a USAF survival manual to never to eat polar bear liver because it will kill you due to the ridiculous amount of iron stored in a polar bear’s liver, but there are no polar bears in Antarctica. Yes, I realize they prolly brought the meat with them, but what a fucking logistical nightmare, eh? Travel way the fuck north, kill a bunch of polar bears for their meat, haul it down way the fuck south.

And die for your trouble

^5 Creepy Deep Sea Anomalies That Can’t Be Explained^

You are looking for external things. You are looking at external things.

Fair enough

Might…maybe…wanna give some thought as to how these external things line up with things internal to you.

Lets, as a hypothetical, suppose that you are searching for the Holy Grail.

Q: How does the Holy Grail align itself to your inward wants/needs?

A: ?╗¿╚?

Not only that, but what does this particular alignment do with/to/for the rest of your internal goodies, and how do they now line up with external things. If the focusing of one set of mirrors, fucks up the alignment/clarity of the rest of your mirrors, your path may become unclear. Or maybe even so fucking clear that you can’t see it.

Hubble’s Mirror Flaw

Its a tough question to ask oneself for sure. We are multidimensional beings who require all kinds of diverse and far-ranging things in order to survive.

Oxygen

Food

Water

Sounds simple enough, eh? Welp, hold on to your hats cowgirls and cowboys…it’s not always quite so simple.

Dietary Fiber (redirected from Roughage)
Meat
Fish
Dairy
Poultry
Vegetable
Fruit
Salt
Protein
Glucose
Lactate
Gravity
Atmosphere Of Earth (Redirected from Air)
Air (Classical Element)
Interpersonal Relationship
Affection

It only gets more complex from there, but you get the point.

^Throwing Muses – Bright Yellow Gun (Official Video)^

James Randi died the other day

😦

^U.S. Girls – And Yet It Moves / Y Se Mueve (Official Video)^

Watched a talk of his once where he opened the talk by taking an entire bottle of homepathic medicine in order to demonstrate what a bunch of bunk homeopathic medicines are. It was at that very moment, that something dawned on me regarding astrology, power, potency, and…dosing.

Q: Why would God, or a god, or some powerful ethereal being not wanna hang with mortals.

A: King Kong & toxicity

Now, for those who are familiar with any of the King Kong flicks, you will know that King Kong actually had a capacity for being somewhat gentle in the handling of humans when he wanted to. But when those rage vibes were flowing, not so much. But what I really got to thinking about was how some tiny and seemingly inconsequential something could possibly have a profound affect on one’s own life. This made me think of how in the Bible that its typically not a good idea to be in God’s presence because they appear to sometimes have some difficulty dialing their shit back. Made me wonder how a something could be put into place where powerful stuff wasn’t so overwhelming and potentially destructive.

Like say...lead

Or maybe even gold or iron, or kevlar. Maybe even a bunch of swirling tumbling crap that serves to somewhat negate or offset more direct hits by energy or matter upon another energy or matter. What does any of this have to do with tiny somethings creating massive change(s), or massive and powerful things figuring out how to be more gentle with less powerful things? I dunno. Maybe you can assign yourself some homework and think of some things on your own. You don’t want me to do all of your thinking for ya, do ya?

^Belly – Gepetto (Official Video)^

“The first thought is usually the correct one.”

Q: If this is so, will one who tends to be wrong all the time become conditioned to be dismissive of any “first thoughts”?

A: //?\\

I’ve read that either truth or conditioning usually lead to “the first thought” one may have. Makes me wonder as to how conditioning can, itself, be conditioned. How truth can be conditioned. Better thoughts. Best thoughts. Still, I must question myself as to how I wound up in a situation where all of my first thoughts, are the wrong ones. Are always wrong. No first thought is ever satisfactory. Perhaps I’m relying too much upon others to dictate to me the right and wrong of things?

/shrug

^one perfect sunrise – orbital^

You know more about “there”…than you know about, “here”. How is this possible?

How did there, become so knowable from here.

Why is here so unknowable.

Surrounded, here, by almost infinite things to know, and yet, you know little to nothing of here.

You focus not on here.

You spend your time here, dreaming of there.

Hrm...something is amiss

^Philip T.B.C. feat. C.Monts – Back To The Batcave (Topspin Remix)^

cYacFa

^Morrissey – Everyday Is Like Sunday^

*******

*No, pretty sure Monty was a pet snake, Clicky… /stubs butt…*

Very many happy returns to Cade ❤

Dear Reader, have a Song…

 

 

Missive From ‘Merica: Another We Kenned Missive

Breaking news, Dear Reader! Leg Iron Books will be publishing a volume of my Underdog Anthology short stories. On November 15th…

*An auspicious date, Clicky… /lights up and smokes… It’s also Cade’s birthday and… /rubs brow… something else…*

… 18 tales in total. Who knew I had that many in me…

*Nah, me either, Clicky… /pats snout… I bloody well hope I’ve got some more…*

… I’ll let you see the cover artwork when it’s ready, Dear Reader 😀

But enough of that; now we have a missive from Cade Fon Apollyon with his thoughts and reflection from the past week. It’s been very exciting  and turbulent in ‘Merica…

*Seriously, Clicky, that only works if you can imagine Donald Trump as Sandy…*

Enjoy! 😉

*******

Dehsharm
Diss Harm

Dis Arm

Deh Sahrm

Disarm

^Stars Of The Lid – The Evil That Never Arrived^

Many things exist to disarm us.

A nice smile.

A kind word.

A good deed.

Perhaps a miscue, a misstep, or some display of ignorance or innocence.

Maybe even a defect or disability.

A uniqueness.

An offering of some kind…to keep one…from conflicting with another.

An offering of some kind…to keep one…from taking advantage of another.

Establish a decorum or a level of respect.

Disarmament
^Julie And Candy^

We are powerful beings after all. We aren’t always aware of just how powerful we are or how powerful we can be. As a result, sometimes, we are not the best at exercising restraint. It is at these precise times, when Nature steps in.

Disarms us…gives us pause…allows us a brief interlude to reflect and maybe rethink.

Sometimes anyway

Sometimes…She appears to, Herself, exercise restraint. Allows us and our own hubris to march ourselves directly into peril.

^Aphex Twin – Just Fall Asleep (1080p HD/HQ)^

Wait…Steve Bannon was involved with Biosphere 2?

Biosphere 2

Bear with me. I just watched two documentaries, both kinda far out and seemingly on two completely different topics, but I really didn’t see a scrap of difference between them. Two flicks about people learning how to act, presumably in order to manipulate others in order to get what they want from them. However at 1:40:17 into the second documentary, there was a name mentioned that I absolutely did not expect to hear with respect to a movie about 1960’s Hippies taking their green ideas corporate.

Hail Satan?

Spaceship Earth (Film)

Steve Bannon

Bass Performance Hall

I guess it was kinda weird to hear that name, because only recently I learned that Bannon is supposedly big on Strauss–Howe generational theory. First he’s running the right-wing rag Breitbart, then he supposedly is kingmaking with Trump 2016, Cambridge Analytica/Brexit, and now it turns out he was mixed up with Ed Bass and Biosphere 2? This dude has his fingers in everything. This revelation prolly wouldn’t be so weird if that NXIVM cat hadn’t been sentenced just the other day.

NXIVM

One of the connections here is that the people involved with Biosphere 2 were/are labeled as cultists. They are/were outside of the mainstream scientific community, had their own thing going, and as a result they were outcast. But these Biosphere folk were members of at least four other very popular and well-known cults, but no one likes to talk about these cults as being…cults.

The Cult of Advertising

The Cult of Voyeurism

The Cult of Acting

The Cult of Capitalism

They’re also members of The Cult of Humanity, but we’ll let that one go since we are focusing on Bannon and how he eventually came to run that whole Biosphere circus.

Q: What was found during the course of this Biosphere 2 project which inspired Ed Bass to change direction so quickly?

A: Media/Marketing is my guess.

Yeah sure, this project probably taught us a lot about the challenges that long-duration space exploration missions will eventually face. It is highly possible that Bass found something that was both patentable and licensable, wanted to keep it/them a secret in order to secure his intellectual property/properties, and so Bass brought in a pit bull to guard it.

But considering what a media circus that Biosphere 2 project was, and considering the number of outside parties that were brought in to consult on the project, I’d think that media utilization, media manipulation and how to influence and/or drive public opinion(s) was the real motherlode. Especially as it relates to really far-out and obscure topics. How to force the old ideas out, and bring in something new.

^Sufjan Stevens – Untitled (piano)^

Do you ever act? Put on a face? Act contrary to how you actually feel? Any ideas as to why you may do this?

Hail Satan? = Full of actors and acting

Spaceship Earth = Full of actors and acting

‘Tis rough showing the soft underbelly of self. Might be some vicious ass-hat out there just waiting for you to drop your guard, and BOOM!

Scarred for life

You shoulda known better. You did know better. But for the briefest of moments, you believed.

^dwig – different days^

Oh, and whilst we are on the topic of cults and cultists…John Lamb Lash had a damn weird “talk” released yesterday. Seemed to be on the topic of institutionalized sex education, but the talk seemed to be less about Elohim giving classroom type instruction, and focused more on the practical demonstration/demonstrable side(s) of “sex education”.

OJT, if you will

What made this talk even more bizarre, was that it seemed to focus on the ancient sexual education(s) of…teenagers. Teenagers? Did ancient peoples even have such a distinction of “teenagers”? I’ve always been under the impression that, in ye olden tymes, humans went straight from childhood to adulthood, and no such middle ground (teens) existed. Made me raise an eyebrow as to potential faults in modern trappings being associated with ancient modalities.

Also made me think…wait, there are metric fucktons of 30+ years old people, in this world here and now, who know fuckall about sex, and prolly know even less about intimacy. Or at least, that’s what we’re told. We’re told that this modern world we live in is full of sexual inadequacy, we’re told that sexual dissatisfaction is one of the primary reasons that relationships fail, and yet mysteriously there’s no shortage of sexual accessories, add-ons, training programs, and sexual information available to supposedly help remedy this dilemma. Not to mention that we are also told that we live in a time of rampant sexual deviancy, sexual depravity, and basically complete and total sexual lawlessness. In social media, pedophile rings, human trafficking and sexual slavery are all the rage.

Something doesn't add up here
^Mysterium^

You’ve got a “Gnostic Teacher”, who is giving a bunch of “introductory talks” about I guess both Gnosticism, his own personal school, the flavor of Gnosticism that he personally teaches, one of these talks he devotes to the subject of “sex”, and he goes straight for the youth? I guess he’s using the standard modern marketing model(s) or something. Hitting the youth market first since that’s the real cash-cow. But I can’t see a bunch of teenagers lining up to learn about Gnosticism. Not even twenty-somethings. I have trouble imagining that even thirty-somethings would have any interest in Gnosticism.

Wait

Is he about to suggest that Gnosticism has the answers to all of these sexual questions that we modern people have?

In a way, it’s kinda refreshing to think that someone would think about addressing the topic of sexuality within some religious framework where the topic wasn’t simply “Sex: Don’t Have It Until You Are Married!” /lesson over”But “teens”? Why is “teens” even a demographic within this particular Gnostic framework? Only thing that I can come up with is that this has to do more with pornography than anything. Maybe advertising too.

^Christopher Willits – Comet^

It’s been my experience that, anyone who is talking about mystical power and mystical powers, and proclaiming these powers exist?

Yeah...they're skeptics

Maybe closet skeptics, but they’re skeptics. They’re more likely to be attempting to disprove them more than prove them. Poking at the ethereal planes to see if they are indeed real. Not knowing what to expect, and not exactly sure how they’ll handle the experience if this mystical something turns out to be much more tangible than they previously thought. This is prolly why stories surrounding things like the Philosopher’s Stone, Pandora’s Box, Midas Touch, etc., are typically cautionary tales. Someone is skeptical about some power, they tempt fate, find out the power is real, everything goes to hell from there.

Usually anyway

But yeah, most individuals have to actually be burned by the mystical fire(s) before they are going to believe. We humans are both skeptical and at the same time very tactile/curious/exploratory creatures, which, when you think about it, is an odd combination of traits to coexist in the same space. But sometimes maybe some can just accept that, irrespective of whether these powers exist or not, they are not yours to wield, they never will be, and just deal with that/those fact(s) and go about your life.

Word To The Wise: This is sometimes precisely when life will hit you with a twist.

^Sigur Rós – Varúð^

This world is not about finding things that disarm us.

We don’t see the things meant to disarm us as being disarming.

We look for weakness in order to take advantage of it.

We look for difference in order to exploit it.

Diversity, is a revenue stream.

I’ve no idea how things were.

I only know how things are.

Relying in totality on some singular ancient something to guide me in the here and now?

Welp, why in the fuck would I want to do that?

If I need some ancient something to guide me, I got this planet right here, under my feet.

Supposedly, it’s pretty fucking ancient.

The stuff that our planet is made of?

Supposedly, it’s even more ancient.

^Huerco S. – A Sea Of Love^

Yes…I’m lost.

But I ain’t that fucking lost.

And if I’m looking for anything, “truth” sure as shit ain’t it.

“Truth”, ain't even on the fucking list
^Bluetech – Oleander (Phutureprimitive Symbiotic Remix)^

When you align yourself to one side or another, everything becomes fringe.

Everything else anyway

Where you stand is not fringe at all.

To you anyway

To all those in the fringes tho?

Yeah...you, are fringe
^Brian Eno – An Ending (Ascent) [1080 HD]^

It’s beaten into us “to do something”. Someone out there, wants to hurt us, and something must be done about it.

Q: Why must I do anything?

A: ? !!!!!!! ?

If for some reason, someone has it in their mind to cave my skull in, fuck it…let em’. Was I put here on this Earth for the sole purpose of fighting against this someone? I don’t think so. Sounds more like their plan than my own. They need an enemy, and they found one in me. Do I play along? Or is it OK with you fuckers if I come up with my own plan(s)? Carry on with my own life? Either way you slice it, your logic in conflict management equates to the same damn thing…I, irrespective of outcome, am their personal plaything. They, get to dictate my behavior, and not me.

Hrm
^Somewhere Up Here^

Wanna know how to tell if someone in a YouTube video is full of shit? Just watch their mannerisms. If they are talking about some ancient something, and they are overly expressive in verbal accentuation of certain things? Using a lot of hand motion? Many changes in facial expressions and/or little to no change in facial expressions? Lots of crazy graphics changes that do not necessarily follow the text of the video? Lots of carrots and rabbit holes/loads of questions with no answers? Yeah…some or all of these likely point to the video being bullshit. Not necessarily wrong, or maybe not even inaccurate, but still bullshit. Maybe someone rehashing some old something without adding anything new, and doing so for the purposes of making a few bucks. Lot of that going on currently, and not just and only on YouTube.

Nothing wrong with people finding their own voice. Honing their craft. Even the oldest of stuff and most known of things is new, mysterious and completely unknown to someone. Trouble is, many forget how to fall. Forget how to stumble. Forget how to be lost. Forget how to cope with, accept, and overcome errors, adversities, setbacks. Forget how to take a punch or absorb a blow. You spend all that time being a complete fuckup, you succeed only at failure, you pick yourself up and keep at it, and yet when you actually find success (or what you consider to be success) the slightest of hiccups or deviations leaves you blank-faced and clueless. Sends you right over the edge. You have polished yourself to such a degree, that even you have begun to believe your own image is…you.

Q: How is this even possible?

A: ?¿?

How, does one, lose their ability to cope? Especially when one has accrued such an impressive resume of failure(s). Maybe as time passes, we let all that old an less than complementary shit conveniently fall off the page.

We’ve moved on.

We’re amongst the learned, knowledgeable and wise.

Part of the elite.

A member of the club.

The club.

Club
^Kid Francescoli – “Moon” (Official Video)^

Just remembered it’s election day in the USA today.

03 November 2020 AD

Maybe that’s another reason I was kinda jarred upon hearing Bannon’s name this morning. Still debating on whether or not I’m gonna vote. I know who I’d vote for, and I also know why. But…wait…um, I just remembered something.

Steer into the skid

Or sometimes, the best course of action is to just let go of the wheel. Yeah, I won’t be voting today.

I wonder who won?
^Telephasic Workshop^

Tis now Saturday November 7th, and still, “the press” is offering up “projections” as to who won. Why in the FUCK are people still relying upon “the press” and their projections 4 days in? Wait for the FEC to publish the election results, then you’ll know for sure without having to rely upon very biased third-parties who keep stringing you along so they can keep you viewing and clicking because their advertising bubbles are limp. What’s that? You really don’t think that MSM has been chomping at the bit for months in order to get a cash infusion from election coverage? Obviously, you’ve not been following this nCoV-2019 thing very closely. Or maybe its that you’ve been following it too closely?

/shrug

We supposedly want all these neato gizmos and gadgets to speed the process(es) along, and yet we damn the living shit out of them when they don’t behave in a manner that is pleasing to us. Something must be wrong.

Dunno about you, but to me, an absence of irregularities, a lack of of inconsistencies, and a non-existence of errors is a sure-fire sign that something very underhanded is almost assuredly taking place. And I’m not talking about any built-in integrity testing types of stuff. I’m talking authentic stuff. Stuff that is there, but covered up in order to maintain appearances. Project an illusion that everything is okay, even tho things are most certainly not okay. Opens up all kinds of doors to manipulate the system in virtually any way that suits you.

Q: Are you really ready for “faultless”?

A: ??? wait wut ¿¿¿

You’re gonna need to do some soul searching before you are going to be able to accept “faultless” as an actual thing. Evaluate your doubt, evaluate your trust, evaluate your honesty, evaluate your own polarity and your own concepts of right/wrong. Are you diverse enough to do that?

Might wanna find out
^Beach House – Elegy To The Void^
Revelations are sweet

English, as a language, has never made sense to me. Last night, a certain college professor named Wes Cecil, opened my eyes a bit.

Latin = Verbs

It was that fucking simple.

Latin = Verbs

Everything is “do”. Or I guess “done”. Either way, Latin is very verby.

EUREKA!!!

Yes, I realize that English is not just and only Latin. But 80-fucking-percent of it is. I guess the rest is a hodgepodge of Greek and loanwords, and they’re all crammed into this “do” type language.

Do

Done

Do/Do

Doo doo?

Fuckin’ hell…ENGLISH IS SHIT!!!

I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!
^Deadmau5 – Fn Pig (1080p) || HD^

English is actually great. Allows for a great deal of expression. Has a plenty of roadblocks tho’. Sometimes, just ain’t no way to express, in text, what one is feeling. Either the word(s) don’t exist, or the structure of the language does not allow a certain thought or feeling to be communicated accurately to others. One can only surmise that this is likely why e-shorthand or “leetspeak” or similar has become so popular.

Maybe even memes

They convey feeling(s) that can likely be understood by others. From a grammatical standpoint there’s no real “substance” to the communication, and yet, one can express themselves, and more importantly, others can relate. Others can understand. Others may not be able to get an exact fix on where one is coming from, but they do have a pretty good idea as to the general location.

All that said, when Wes mentioned in his talk about Latin being “verb-heavy”, a light went on in my head. Everything, in English, and I mean EVERYTHING, has to be associated with some sort of doing. An action. And this doing is either right now, in the immediate future, or already done.

Hrm...done

It is done.

It is finished.

Event-driven.

Challenge/response.

Newton’s Third.

Cause/effect.

Interrupt requests.

Capitalism.

Say/do.

Slavery.

No fucking wonder we’re having so much difficulty understanding quantum mechanics, chaos theory, string theory, etc.. Even religion(s), spiritual matters Not only is there’s no fucking language to describe these “higher level things”, there’s no language to relate to them. No language to relate them to. There’s high, and low, and no fucking middle. It’s like Inferno and Paradiso, with no Purgatory. Not to switch gears too quickly here, but something big has to be happening in that middle. It’s completely absent. “The Middle”, is gone. That can only mean one thing…it has gotten so massive, that no one can see it.

Hiding in plain sight
^Arve Henriksen – Hambopolskavalsen^

Someone mentioned “Loudon County” to me on election night. It’s a county in northern Virginia. Was weird because the person who mentioned it to me could not have possibly known that I used to live in Loudon County VA. Earlier this morning, “Loudun” appeared on my radar (not to be confused with “Loudon”).

Loudun

Loudun Possessions

Just now, a song appeared in my playlist. Never heard this song in my life, sounds pretty good, so I switched over windows to see who the hell this was. What immediately caught my eye, was the artist’s last name. Usually, I just listen to music, don’t watch the videos. But this video? I gave it watch.

^Holly Herndon – Morning Sun [Official Video]^
Lone digger. Lone explorer.

Herndon, Virginia

Not Loudon County, but Herndon is right there by Loudon. When I worked at Dulles, I used to go into Herndon VA and Reston VA to get food. There was a fucking awesome deli in Reston that made incredible subs. I can only wonder if the deli are still there.

Wait…Herndon’s largest employer is…Fannie Mae?

^Ben Buitendijk – Promised Land^

Erm…

…why did they give a shit about him in the first place? I’m somewhat skeptical of those who are interested in me only because of what I can give them. That said, the media wanted sustenance, and for the better part of five/six years now, Trump & Co seems to have fed them. A never ending Las Vegas style all-you-care-to-eat buffet.

Or, erm, Atlantic City style

Just wondering if they realize they killed their meal ticket. The media must be planning on going on a diet or making some other kind(s) of lifestyle changes.

/shrug
^Tycho – Adrift^

Some people repeat themselves a lot. When they are not repeating themselves, they will resort to repeating themselves…a lot. Then they’ll move on to repeating themselves…a lot. As time passes, they will begin to repeat themselves…a lot. When repeating one’s self no longer serves, it’s time to repeat yourself…a lot.

All that said, and all that said, I guess, I guess anyway, that the point, and I mean the main point, of the video below, the one to follow this text here, is that the greater good, or maybe the greatest good, or yeah just the greater good and not the greatest good, is better served, or better served, or best better served, by…wait, what the fuck are they even talking about in this video?

^What will Trump do?^

cYacFa

^Dissident Aggressor^

*******

*I gotta say… /final drag… Wes Cecil’s Language and Civilization lectures are fucking awesome… /stubs butt… Perspective opening…*

*Glad you agree, Clicky. Now, put the sandwich down and go get us a song to end on…*

Hopefully next week will be as exciting as the last one, Dear Reader 😉

Have a Song…

Story Time: What Time Do You Finish?

*Ha! I saw your spoiler post in the week, Clicky… /lights up and smokes… You are really enjoying this US election, aren’t you…*

*Eww, that’s what that smell is… /wrinkles nose… Go and have a bath. I’ll take it from here…*

Happy Halloween, Dear Reader 😀 Today we are delighted to present for you my short story from Underdog Anthology XII: Mask-Querade

… called ‘What Time Do You Finish?’. Now, if you like it, Dear Reader, you might want to invest in a copy of the anthology, as it is chocked full with stories far creepier than mine. Enjoy! 😉

*******

What Time Do You Finish?

By Roo B. Doo

It is said that Halloween is the time of year when the veil between dimensions is worn at its thinnest. In the year 2020, when a global viral pandemic, violent rioting and supermarket socially distanced queues dominated everyday life, that boundary thickness could be considered as flimsy as paper medical face mask. Why, an errant finger could easily pierce it.

Shit!

God adjusted the mask across her visage, hoping no one would notice the ragged hole, and also that nothing too nasty had fallen through the breach on her sweet breath.

***

“How the hell am I supposed to know when we are?” Death snapped and glared up from inside the impenetrable blackness of his cowl at the three ominous figures surrounding him. They stood huddled at the junction of Great Russell and Bloomsbury Streets in London’s bustling West End. It was night, it was cold and, save for the motley quartet, the streets were completely deserted.

“Becoz yur Death,” the first figure hissed and bared vampiric fangs. Famine appeared tall and angular, dressed in a tuxedo, silk lined cape, and with a countenance so pale, it could only have been achieved by avoiding sunlight at any and all costs.

“Because you have the contraption,” the second figure added angrily. War appeared to be a smart businesswoman, confident and aggressive, in horn-rimmed glasses, sharp suit and infinitely sharper stiletto heels.

“AAAAAAAGH!” the third figure groaned as a fat, black housefly zig-zagged across a sunken cheek, before disappearing into a filth-caked nostril. Pestilence appeared to be a zombie; slack mouthed, grey decaying flesh and milk white, opaque eyes.

“No, Pesto, I don’t know what happened to the horses,” Death answered his rotting companion. He pulled himself up to his full height of three feet and three inches, retrieved a battered Psion organiser from beneath the folds of his robe, and unsheathed it with a satisfying pop. “I don’t understand it,” he cried, “transport’s always been laid on before.”

War, Famine and Pestilence stood in silence, watching over the diminutive but perfectly formed grim reaper, as he punched the keys of the electronic organiser with a gleaming phalange, and waited.

Click. Click. Click, click, click… click.

“Well?” War said impatiently. “We’re in London, that much is for sure. The British Museum is over there.”

Pestilence’s body did not move a single rotting muscle, but his head turned an unearthly 180° to follow the direction that War’s crimson painted talon was pointing in. “UGH WAAAGH AAAAAAAGH!”

“Ve don’t know if ve are zupposed to go zere.” Famine reached out and clasped either side of Pestilence’s head, twisting it back into a front facing position. “Ve don’t know vy ve are even here. Death, vot iz taking you zo long to find out?”

“Wait…” Death did not look up.

Click. Click, click. Click.

Death peered hard at the tiny screen on the Psion, before shaking it hard. “I dunno. It’s not working. Maybe the Cosmic Consciousness Neural Net is down again,” he said with a shrug.

“Argh!” War howled. She reached down and grabbed Death by the front of his robe and lifted him up to face height. Behind her glasses, War’s eyes blazed with fire. “That’s just brilliant! Ace! Fun-fucking-tastic, Death! What are we meant to do now?”

The dead weight of Pestilence’s arm slapped War on the shoulder. “WAAAGH UGH!”

“Yez, yez, yez, ve should all calm down,” Famine said smoothly, pulling Death from War’s tight grasp and setting him back on the pavement. He plucked Pestilence’s arm from War’s shoulder before she could rip it from its socket. “It does no good for uz to get agitated. Ve need to zink vot haz happened.”

“Exactly right, Famine,” Death injected in agreement. “Let’s look at what we do know.” He pushed himself free of the huddle and turned to face his companions. “We’ve got War, Famine, Pestilence and yours truly.” He began to glide, circling the trio. “The ultimate harbingers of doom and bringers of great tribulation. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse-”

“AAAAAAAGH UGH!”

Sans horses, indeed. Most irregular. Literally dropped, without warning, in the middle of London-”

“Clos to ze British Muzeum,” Famine interrupted.

“Correct. So we know where we are but we don’t know when we are-”

“Late twentieth, early twenty first century, I’d say, from the smell of the air,” War joined in. “Plus it’s night time and it’s bloody freezing.”

“A winter’s night, yes. Probably accounts for the lack of any activity about-”

“UGH!”

Death glided to a stop. “Your right, Pesto; there should be people about, even in winter. A big city like this produces lots of traffic-”

“Yez,” Famine mused, loudly tapping on his fangs in contemplation. “No motor vehicles hav passed by since ve arrived.”

Death nodded slowly, then looked up at the sky. One by one, War, Famine and Pestilence followed Death’s gaze.

“Nope, too much cloud cover and light pollution. I can’t see any stars to work out when we are.”

“I have a very bad feeling about this,” War whispered hoarsely.

“WAAAGH AAAAAAAGH!” Pestilence groaned.

“I agree, Pestilence, my dear friend. It haz to be a mistake,” Famine said solemnly. “An accident.”

“Possibly. We’d better start walking,” Death said and glided away down Bloomsbury Street, in the direction of Covent Garden.

War, Famine and Pestilence looked at each other and muttered darkly.

“Hold it, short-arse,” War barked. “Where exactly are we walking to? I can’t go far in these heels. They’re fucking murder.”

Pestilence dropped a shoulder and lurched awkwardly after Death. “AAAAAAAGH WAAAGH AAAAAAAGH!”

“Seriously? You’re going to follow him?” War shouted after the hunched and shambling figure of Pestilence. “You’ll disintegrate before you reach the end of this street, you noxious pile of pus! ”

Famine took War’s hands between his own, bowed deeply and lightly kissed her clenched fists until they opened. “Don’t vorry, my dear lady. I vill speak to Death.” Gently, he tugged on War so that she tottered forward with unsteady steps. “Please, come. Valk slowly. I vill talk to him.” With that, Famine turned into a giant bat and flew off in the direction of Death.

War roared with frustration but continued to follow the others. “I have Birkenstocks, you know. Why couldn’t I have manifested in my fucking Birkenstocks…”

Death heard wop-wopping wing beats approach from behind, and felt the change in air pressure as Famine flew over his head. He glided slowly until he reached his suave compadre, who stood in the middle of the pavement, arms wide, cape billowing and fangs bared.

“Death, stop please,” Famine pleaded. “Vor and Pestilence are in no fit state to valk far. Look.” He gestured back to the way they’d come. Pestilence jerked along slowly in the middle distance, with War following on behind, daintily sidestepping the trail of fleshy ooze left in Pestilence’s wake.

“Death, Death,” Famine cooed, “You know ve vould valk to the ends of ze vorld vid you, but you must tell us, vere are you taking us?”

Death paused and looked up, appraising his companion – Famine: always hungry, never sated, forever empty; his vampire appearance was more than apt. Pestilence, too, in zombie form was unrelenting, poisoning everything, even the very air. War, however, was a puzzler unless she represented a battle of the sexes. Should War shatter the fabled glass ceiling, Death was certain she would then set about slitting every available throat with the deadly shards.

What about me, though? I’m exactly the same, I haven’t changed, Death wondered. The inside of his skull began to itch. He sighed and shook his head. This whole situation was wrong and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. Something big. Something important.

“Death?” Famine snapped his fingers rapidly. “Vere are ve going?” he demanded.

“To the Embankment, Famine. To Cleopatra’s Needle.”

“Ov course!” Famine slapped the palm of his hand against his widow’s peaked forehead. “Ze ancient Egyptian Obelisks of Time! Ve can return to ze hintervorld by way ov Cleopatra’s Needle! Zat iz super fine zinking, Death. No vonder yur the leader.”

“I-” Death suddenly cocked his head to one side. “Can you hear that?”

There was a low rumble in the distance but it was gradually getting louder, moving nearer. Death and Famine watched as at first, War turned her head to look behind, following the direction of the sound, then Pestilence slowly shuffled round to see what was making the noise. Further back in the distance, Death could just make out a dim rectangle of orange light, floating closer through the darkness, getting brighter. War began to wave her arms and shout.

“AAAAAAAGH!” Pestilence bellowed.

Death and Famine glanced at each other before racing back towards Pestilence and War. “Taxi!” they shouted in unison, tinged of relief.

***

War, Famine and Pestilence sat in abject silence in the back of the taxi; the three separated from Death and the taxi driver in the front by a transparent sheet of plexiglass, with only a narrow slot cut into it for the exchange of money.

Excuse me while I light my spliff…

“Spliff,” the taxi driver sang along to the bassy sound of Bob Marley and the Wailers coming through the speakers.

Oh God I gotta take a lift…

“Lift.” The taxi driver turned toward Death and gave him a beaming smile.

From reality I just can’t drift…

“Drift.”

That’s why I am staying with this riff…

“Riff.” The taxi driver chuckled and tapped his hands on the top of the steering wheel, in time with the music. “Easy Skanking. Hell, I love this song.”

Death looked out of his side window. The feeling that something was wrong had only intensified as the empty London streets rushed by. He cursed the broken Psion organiser tucked inside his robes. Bloody useless technology. Give me an hourglass any day, he thought sourly.

“Good party, was it?” the taxi driver asked.

“Huh?” Death replied, perplexed by the driver’s question.

The taxi driver laughed. “The fancy dress party. Your costumes are sweet. I thought the government had cancelled Halloween because of the Rona.”

Death stiffened and the itching inside his skull increased. “Halloween’s been cancelled?”

“Yeah man, Christmas too if we’re not lucky,” the taxi driver replied.

“What year is… it?” Death asked slowly.

The taxi driver sucked his teeth contemptuously. “What you mean what year is it? It’s 2020, child. Where have you been?”

A burst of realisation exploded through Death’s train of consciousness: It’s 2020: the year anything happened! The year when pandemic waves of Coronavirus and Karenitus swept the globe, resulting in lockdowns, economic disaster and civil unrest. Things are starting to make sense now! Even so, the itch continued to irritate the inside of Death’s skull.

Cigar smoke suddenly filled the front of the taxi. Death coughed and tapped on the sign affixed to the console. “That says ‘No Smoking’.”

The taxi driver grinned at Death, a smoking cigar butt jauntily perched from the corner of his mouth. “2020, child. Donch ya know the saying? ‘A smoke a day keeps the Rona at bay’.” He laughed heartily and bounced up and down in his seat with mirth. “Besides, who’s gonna stop me? Look about you, my small friend. There’s no one around to say shit about it.”

If Death still had eyes, they would have been rolling round his ocular cavities. “Hey guys.” He shouted to the others through the slot in the plexiglass. “Problem solved: it’s 2020.”

“Tventy Tventy! Hellz Bellz!” Famine exclaimed.

Pestilence gave a guttural groan. “WAAAGH UGH AAAAAAAGH!”

“Yes, but what’s the date?” War demanded nervously.

“It’s the 31st October, sugar,” the taxi driver called back. “Happy Halloween.”

The taxi stopped at the end of Temple Place. In front lay the deserted Embankment. Along side it, the river Thames flowed swiftly past, glittering lights shimmered on its rippled surface, as above the clouds began to separate, clear, and finally reveal the celestial occupants of the night sky. The taxi driver nonchalantly flicked a switch on his dashboard, locking all the vehicle doors with a loud clunk.

“Oh no,” War murmured gravely and pressed her hands hard against her stomach. “No, no, no!”

“Vot iz it, Vor?” Famine asked with rising alarm.

A shaft of moonlight hit the taxi as it slowly pulled right out of the junction and onto the empty Embankment, illuminating its interior. The Moon was bright, it was clear and it was very full.

“It’s my monthlies,” War whined, sliding off her seat and onto all fours. Her jaw elongated and wiry tufts of fur sprang from her gnarly brow, knocking War’s horn-rimmed glasses from her face. “I don’t fucking believe this. Why nowOOOO!”

“Now this is a great song. One of the Skipper’s best,” the taxi driver exclaimed, ignoring the howling and growling, and blood-curdling shrieks of panic coming from the back of the cab, as the previously smart and professional War transformed into a ferocious and carnal beast. He turned up the volume on his stereo and began to croon along,

Until the philosophy, which hold one race superior and another. Inferior. Is finally. And permanently. Discredited. And abandoned. Everywhere is war. Me say war.

“Vot? NOOOO! Get avay! Get avay!” Famine screamed and impotently fumbled with the taxi’s doors handles. They were securely locked, however; there would be no escape.

Death sat stock still, strapped in tight and listened in horror to the sound of Famine and Pestilence being ripped apart by the slavering jaws and slashing claws of a werewolf that appeared to be War.

“How’s you seat, child?” the taxi driver asked slyly.

“I’m not a child,” Death tersely replied.

“UGH!” Pestilence’s bloody fingers abruptly thrust through the slot in the plexiglass, twitched once, then lay limp.

“I know, I know, little man. No offence intended.” The taxi driver continued. “That space you’re occupying used to be for luggage, but times are hard and last year it was converted into a child seat,” he explained. “Good thing for you, eh?”

The heavy silence that fell between the driver and his passenger was punctured by the sound of wet chomps and crunching bone emanating from the back of the cab.

The itch in Death skull stopped, but the very fabric of reality now took up its cause.

“Scratch?” Death asked tentatively.

“Yes, child.”

Old Scratch?”

“Who else you expecting?” the Devil, who appeared to be a smirking, smoking taxi driver, replied. The vehicle slowed to a stop next to Cleopatra’s Needle. “Now hurry up and spit it out. It’s time for you to leave.”

Death paused; it felt like eternity. Finally he asked, “Why?”

Why?” Old Scratch puffed on his cigar, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face. “Why, Armageddon, little man. What did you think this is?”

Death was flummoxed. In his long existence, he had never been flummoxed before. It was a new sensation, but not one he’d ever longed for.

Old Scratch patted him on the head, then reached up to retrieve a folded piece of paper from behind the sun visor. “I got a letter last year, see,” he explained. He unfolded the page and glanced down at the childish writing on it. “From a sweet, innocent child. A touch dyslexic, but with the purest soul ever to inhabit a human body. What could I do?” He offered the letter to Death. “My heart just melted.”

Death took the letter from Old Scratch and began to read aloud: “’Dear Satan. My name is Molly and I have everything I will ever need. Can you please help everybody else in the world by ending hunger, pollution and war. This is my Christmas wish. Thank you. Molly Darling, age 6. P.S. I hope you are well.’

“So considerate and polite,” Old Scratch sighed, taking the letter back.

All the stars in the heavens swirled furiously inside Death’s skull. He mentally grappled with the raging storm, searching for a handhold on his sanity. “War ended Pestilence and Famine, but War isn’t dead.”

“You sure? Can’t hear no breathing back there.”

Death swiftly unlocked his seatbelt and stood up on his seat. The plexiglass was no longer transparent, but smeared red with blood and gore. He pushed the dead fingers of Pestilence back through the slot and heard a splash as the severed hand they were attached to thudded to the floor of the taxi. Death peered through the gap and saw War lying naked and smoothly pale in the bloodbath. A chunk of half chewed greenish meat fell free from her lifeless lips.

“WooEE! That Pesto sure was ripe!” Old Scratch said, opening his window and flicking out ash from his cigar. “Bad meat. Never eat it. Always, always, insist on fresh.”

Death pulled away from the sight of the abomination in the back of the taxi and sat back down in his seat. “But how can it be Armageddon if War, Famine and Pestilence are gone?”

Old Scratch punched the numbers on the keyboard of the dashboard fare display. “With no hunger, there will be obesity, so humanity will become slovenly and fat, lazy and satisfied. No war means no competition, no goals to achieve, so mankind will lose its desire to better itself. And the elimination of pollution is a sure fire way of killing any human creativity. I give the species ten years, tops.”

“But there will be death,” Death whispered softly.

“Oh indeed, you’re still needed. You have a busy time ahead of you, little man. That’ll be six six six.”

Death snapped his head back to face the Devil in the driver’s seat. “What?”

Old Scratch laughed and pointed to the fare metre. “Six pounds, sixty six.” He gave a phlegmy cough and waved Death away. “Just kidding. For you, child, no charge,” he said gleefully.

*******

*Ah, that’s much better, Clicky… /stubs butt… Do try to keep clean…*

*/sighs…*

We hope you enjoyed the story, Dear Reader, and that you will consider purchasing a copy of the latest Underdog Anthology…

*”By the book”… /thinks… Who was the 37th President of America, Clicky?*

*/rolls eyes… Elementary, dear Clicky…*

… And may the rest of your Halloween we kenned be spooky. Have a Song… ❤

Missive From ‘Merica: Stuck On A Title. O RLY? Maybe…

Hello, Dear Reader 😀

Today we have a brand new missive from Okie Text US Devil for you…

*Hey, Clicky… /lights up… I see you’re keeping the Halloween theme going? …/drags…*

*/plumes smoke… Okay, that’s fine but we’ve got a new missive from Cade to format now, so…* 

*Exactly…*

*******

You are dumb…and I can prove it.

Wait…no…that’s not right. I fucked up…lemme start over.

You are dumb…and you can prove it.

NOW you are dumb and I can prove it.

Thanks for the assistance.

Ta!
^TV On The Radio – Golden Age (Official Video)^
Hrm...

Interesting to think about the reach one may have beyond their cage(s). Who…or…what, provides the means, which allows the animals to become unrestrained.

Or, less restrained.

And no, I’m not gonna explain what I mean.

Not now anyway.

^Replicants – Destination Unknown (Music Video)^

ujaedswf890-8y432bperf90u23409uwerfj9u11-[02ifljfv8yh5p[09u3

How’s that look?

OK?

Able to follow?

OK then. Excellent.

Let’s keep going, eh?

^bine☃ – FUELED BY RAINWATER^

The tools that become available due to certain circumstances arising. A cascade of cause and effect type events which are channeled into a particular eventuality.

EX A: If you are a cop/police officer/peace officer/whatever, and you get a citation or award of some kind, you can likely utilize/leverage that citation or award to your benefit for the remainder of your law enforcement career. A tool. A tool, for opening doors, previously closed to you.

EX B: If you are an employee of a company, and you work your way up the ladder, you can likely leverage both your ascendant tendencies and your position(s) in the hierarchy to better open doors previously closed to you. Never sick, great attendance, always on time, will choose work over family or social life, always trying to better yourself for the benefit of the company, not afraid of making enemies, indifferent to the woes of others, don’t care what others think of you…you’re going places and you know it because you’re proactively working to make things happen.

The metrics in that tweet above…only one of those books are familiar to me, and pretty sure it has at least something to do with the topic of “generational theory” (Behold A Pale Horse). Prolly why the tweet caught my eye in the first place. Generational theory has been appearing on my radar a lot recently, culminating in learning that this Bannon cat who is a wig at Breitbart is purported to be a frothy-mouthed lunatic on the subject.

Me? I know little to nothing about generational theory. I know it’s loaded with archetypes that label people and put them in categories, and it does the same with “turnings” as to what certain generations will do and why. It appears to be very cyclical, has a very Circadian Rhythm, Schumann Resonance, nature’s seasons type of vibe to it, a “time to every purpose under heaven” vibe to it, but it also has a long con/short con and “the old tricks are the best tricks” kind of vibe to it too. Overall, I can see its appeal. Has a “great plan” or even “greater good” kind of tone. Shows some big tumblers turning that were previously more or less invisible. Removes some veils. Provides some insight for those who choose to look.

^Ken Andrews – Perfect Days^

Let’s get back to those metrics in the tweet above, and think about vectors which point to certain spaces in space. But in order to find this space in space, let’s take a detour which may provide us with a bit of clarity as to our destination.

Cult Of Domesticity

Our basis for discussing anything at this point, is channeling a someone or a something towards a particular eventuality. This is likely to be a “master/servant” type of exercise where one desires to assert dominance over another. In the tweet, someone reads a few books, certain nosy fuckers are out there snooping as to who is reading what, and when some critical mass is reached on both sides, an action will result.

Let’s us plumb the depths further as to what the tweet suggests will help one to attain this critical mass.

Milton William Cooper-Behold A Pale Horse

G. Edward Griffin-The Creature From Jekyll Island

Michael Ruppert

Patriots (Novel Series)

I think she or whoever made that image may have got that fourth book title a bit wrong. No biggie tho. I found the book referenced.

^The Amps – Pacer^

Fuck. I was wrong about Behold A Pale Horse being somehow connected with generational theory. Another detour is required in order to find out how in the hell I fucked that up. How I misassociated that particular book with that particular theory. Emphasis on the word “how”.

Strauss–Howe Generational Theory

Mirage Men

I’m thinking that’s as far as I need go to solve this particular mystery.

Mystery = SOLVED! Next?
^Jackal & Hyde – Bad Robot (Dominance Electricity) 2016^

Those who have been on the victim end of…erm…”certain deviations”, are unlikely to be inclined to play seduction games. They’re likely to be interested in the dynamics of relationships, sure. Especially the “text book” types of relationships: birds and bees; boy meets girl; go to school, get a job, get married, have kids, etc.. But seduction games?

Nah. 

Short games are gonna be long-odds because they’ve previously been stung, and maybe even been stung more than once. Prolly gonna have to go long-con on that number.

^Inhale – Safe Me^

You know those birdie things that sometimes fly around in the sky?

You do?

Great, let’s keep going.

You know those fishy things that sometimes swim around in the sea?

You do?

Great, let’s keep going.

You know those animaly things that sometimes migrate around on the ground?

You do?

Great, let’s keep going.

You know that compass thing that points North?

You do?

Great, let’s keep going.

Welp, lemme see if I can muster a ray of sunshine for you fucks wandering around in the haze of your obsession with brainwashing. First, it is very unlikely that you are being brainwashed. You are more likely to be subjected to braindumping. They ain’t trying to clean your shit up because they’re too busy burying you in a glut of shit for you to try and sort. You’re drowning in it. “They” only need throw you bones, and you sort it of your own volition because you think it actually means something. When the shit don’t add up, you even think that means something. “There must be more.” And you likely self-deprecate, they ain’t gonna disagree with you, and now suddenly, you, just weren’t good enough, because they did not accept you.

Q: You ever tried accepting yourself?

A: How 'bout you give that a whirl.

Yeah, I know, it’s tough. There’s all these rules out there…all these expectations. We have to rely completely and totally on other human beings in order to find our place in the herd. There’s no other help available to us…just other humans.

So sad. 

If only there were something, somewhere, that wasn’t humans or a something that is not even “human”. A something out there which gave me some direction. Gave me some bearings as to how I can find my own feet, and place my own feet on my own path. But alas…there is nothing.

So sad.
^Scott Pilgrim VS. The World Soundtrack – 06 I’m So Sad, So Very, Very Sad^

Speaking of utilizing what is right under your own fucking feet and using what is dangling over the top of that thick skull of yours in order better get your bearings, better keep your bearings, and better find your way…

Saw that tweet the other day and thought “yeah, I get ya, astrology is a cryptic crock of shit”…woah! Wait a fucking minute here!!! No…no, no, that’s…all fucking wrong. Wrong, wrong, and motherfucking WRONG!

Irrespective…

of your astrological sign…

the stars…

and planets…

will not…

affect your life…

in any way.

Holy hell…that couldn’t be more wrong, I thought to myself as I munched in an ever slowing pace on the most recent bite of my salad.

I put down my cellphone, which coincidentally contains many rare-earth elements, placed my metal fork into the ceramic salad bowl, swallowed the now masticated mess of salad I had been chewing, leaned back in my metal chair lined with a polyfiber and foam seat cushion, and looked up at the sun shining through a hole in the broken clouds hovering in the blue of the early afternoon sky. It wasn’t often that I treated myself to an outdoor lunch. And it occurred to me the strangeness in that of all days, today was the day I would bumble across a tweet where such clarity could be attained via a perfect set of circumstances.

Here I sat, on the surface of a planet, outside in the sun, which is a star, munching on a salad, which comes from this planet and is encouraged to do so and nurtured by the sun, and along comes this tweet implying that stars and planets have no effect, whatsoever, on my life. I leaned forward in my chair, folding my midriff somewhat in half whilst clasping my hands together and somewhat bowed my head just above the salad bowl resting on the table. My posture may have given an indication of prayer, but that’s not what was happening here. It didn’t feel that way to me anyway.

Confusion. 

Confusion raced through my mind at the absolute clarity of seeing the ridiculousness of astrology…smashed, by the absurdity of truth. Or at least, a truth. This is not prayer although my body feels as if it is at prayer. Am I praying a confused prayer? Am I confused about how to pray a confused prayer? A “God? What in the bloody hell are you up to?” kind of prayer? No…it doesn’t feel like that. Not even a little.

Suddenly, my lips, almost involuntarily mumble a something…”The person who posted that…what, in the fuck, are they thinking?” My ears hearing my own voice somewhat snaps me out of my contemplative trance. “Are they thinking at all?”

^Throwing Muses – Not Too Soon (Official Video)^

BTW, most of that didn’t happen. Just taking a little artistic license with what actually did happen. In truth, I read the tweet, and simultaneously had two thoughts.

ONE: I can relate dude. Astrology, and certainly in its institutionalized form, is confusing as FUCK. Its linear. ‘Cept more like a blender that unchops things instead of chopping them. An assembly line where abstract bits and pieces of nonsense go in one end, and a completely assembled and operational something comes out the other, and only those who built the factory know how any of it works are capable of understanding the factory’s intricacies.

TWO: Dude, this chart is clever, funny, and completely fucking wrong. We live on a goddamn planet which is next to a star, and we are completely and totally dependent on both stars and planets for anything and everything that happens in our life. And if it weren’t for distant stars (and planets) virtually anything and everything that humans have developed would be a virtual impossibility. Or at least, extremely difficult and certainly much different than we do things now.

So yeah, knowing what you now know, which version do you prefer? Does it even matter? I told both versions, both are the same tale, same message, same events, same person/people, same truth(s).

^Pixies – Dig For Fire & Allison (Official Video)^

Two short ones in a row.

Whatever is this world coming to?

^Belly – Feed the Tree (Official Video)^

cYacFa

^New Order – True Faith (1987) (Official Music Video) [HD REMASTERED]^

*******

*Revelations galore, Clicky. Go get us a suitable Song to end with…*

We hope you’ve had a swell time reading Cade’s missive, Dear Reader. I’ll return on Saturday, to post my Underdog Anthology XII story, ‘What Time Do You Finish?’. Until then, have a Song 😀

Missive From ‘Merica: We Kenned Whatever…

*Ha! /claps hands… This month has been sumfin of an orange syncfest, Clicky… /winks…*

I have been giving Strauss & Howe’s The Fourth Turning a great deal of thought recently, Dear Reader. If the current Fourth and Winter Turning started in 2007, and will probably conclude circa 2027, then why can’t those 20 years also be considered as one complete cycle?

Four periods of 5 years, representing Spring (2007 – 2012), Summer (2012 – 2017), Autumn/Fall (2017 – 2022) and Winter (2022 – 2027). That would put the current year, 2020, slap bang in the middle of the unraveling period of this mini-cycle:

‘These were all periods of cynicism and bad manners, when civic authority felt weak, social disorder felt pervasive, and the culture felt exhausted.’

*Thank you for unraveling those tweets, Clicky…*

*/lights up and smokes… My, my, it’s all going Pete Tong for the Democrats…*

*True. The Dez Rez Prez is sumfin of an rake… /chortles…*

… I’ll expand on my thinking in a separate post, Dear Reader, because a missive from Cade Fon Apollyon has newly arrived at the LoL for our delight, and I want to get straight to it. Enjoy! ❤

*******

Models.
Everything seems to be based upon them.
Some perfect something, made even more perfect 
by the modeling process(es).
Sometimes the modeling processes 
themselves get a little...wonky.
The modeling processes themselves undergo 
some modeling and become iterative until
some new standard is achieved.

Reevaluate. Remodel. Reinvigorate. Renew.
Unpack and repackage the packaging in new packaging.
Re-mystify.
Sell ideas.
Some ideas and their models are more radical than others.
Some ideas and their resulting models may be downright strange.
^Schumann Resonance – Fight of the Woo’s^

All this modeling as of late and the resulting “plans” seem to be predicated mostly upon worst-case scenarios. In all honesty, that might be fine if there was an intermediate step between the modeling and the planning which involved a dash of common sense and maybe a dollop of practicality to formulate the actual plan(s). There appears to be some disconnect that, at least I, cannot fully comprehend.

To relate what I mean, we are living on a planet that is said to be 4.5 billion years old, it is said to have supported life of some form or another for at least 3.8 billion of those years, and we humans appear to have been around for at least 100,000 years or so (and likely much longer). So why is it that, according to the models, everyone is now suddenly about to die? On the flip side of the equation, you’ve got others who contend that all of the efforts to stem this nCoV-2019 virus thingie, are in fact, a covert operation/conspiracy of and by rich people, powerful people, corporations and government to kill everyone that isn’t them or part of their group(s).

It occurs to me that both sides are hell-bent on selling the idea that everyone is about to die. Not only that, but the idea that “everyone is going to die” is predicated upon a qualifier…”unless something is done about it.” As to exactly what “it” is? Welp, irrespective of which perspective you choose to view this situation from, all of the models appear to be very virus-like.

Infect, sicken, weaken, and perhaps even kill. 

Hell, from where I sit, watching everyone else, this nCoV-2019 is at some point just gonna shrug and give up. All these humans are already trying to kill eachother, so why fucking bother infecting people at all?

Too much work.
^Lykke Li – Knocked Up (Kings of Leon cover)^

Much of this morning’s thoughts about modeling are based upon a recent tweet I saw.

An insult. An insult, projected from a perceived position of power, and projected upon “the little people.” I got to thinking tho…”wait, according to some models, ‘the entirety of consciousness’ was much smaller than pea sized at some point.” There’s a scalar disconnect happening here somewhere, and it’s happening for the purposes of lobbing an insult at those behaving in a way that appears to be upsetting to a lone someone, who appears to feel others should behaving in a way that is pleasing to this elevated someone. So, I asked…

The response that I got?

Sounds almost like something a Christian might retort with when questioned about a particular belief. Some dogmatic something in the script to deflect attention from the individual and point to the knowingness of how “truth” exists in this particular model.

I guess in this case, “consciousness” is always small for those who operate outside of the ascended realms. Those who have not yet begun to operate within this extra-dimensional truth are dragging those attempting to ascend, down, and remedied by insulting their intelligence.

Great plan. 

Nevermind that it just creates more conflict, which creates more karma, which means you are extending your own ascension timeline/path, which means that you yourself are actually making things worse/more difficult for yourself. I was under the impression that 5D and ascension and spiritual awakening or whatever was all love, light, flowers, rainbows and starshine.

 Guess I was wrong. 

It appears to be the same old shit. Same old paradigm. Those who perceive themselves as bigger and/or stronger picking on those who are smaller and/or weaker, and doing so for their own benefit(s) rather than for the benefit of others. Certainly not benefiting the whole. Or “the oneness” or whatever.

Digress.

What I was really thinking about when reading that original tweet (other than the insulting bits) was the concept of singularities. Particularly that one that, at some point, was infinitely small. Everything that had come before, and everything that was, and everything that ever would be, was crammed into a single space, which means that all of consciousness was crammed into that same space.

Now, I dunno about you, but the first thing that I think of when I think of “infinitely small” is something that is WAY fucking smaller than “pea-sized”. I can sit here right now and think of energies, atoms and sub-atomic particles, which are ridiculously small in comparison to “pea-sized”, but even in thinking of these tiny particles, that doesn’t even begin to come close to how small I can envision “infinitely small” to be. Keep in mind that in this context, we are talking about a container which contains all consciousness. Not some consciousness, not part consciousness, not your gigantic consciousness compared to my tiny and insignificant consciousness…all consciousness.

Q: If you were told by a someone that your soul was “pea-sized”, what would that say to you about your individual soul?

A: ???¿???

Let me guess…it would say to you that you have a worthless and contextually insignificant soul. That the individual who told you this was being insulting. Was being degrading. Was belittling you.

Q: You know what someone telling me that my soul was “pea-sized” would say to me?

A: FUCK YES!!! I HAVE A SOUL!!! THE SOUL DOES INDEED EXIST, AND I HAVE FUCKING HAVE ONE!!! w00t w00t!!!

The “size” is irrelevant. What is relevant, is that I have one. I just need to care for it. Maybe even assist others in caring for theirs (when and if needed/asked, of course).

^Windy Wagner – You don’t have to worry^

In order to understand, one must first subscribe. Only then can one understand.

Hrm.

This model.

Bells.

This model is ringing some bells.

Adopt, adapt, conform, comply, comprehend, ascend.

VOILA!!! Enlightenment.

You’re in the club.

^Adam F – Circles (Album Edit)^

The indoctrination process very much parallels “the four C’s” in aviation when a pilot finds themselves in trouble.

Climb. Communicate. Confess. Comply.

1. CLIMB – we’re about to reach out blindly to anyone who will respond, so we need to get as high as we can, so that our radios can make the widest possible broadcast to the most amount of listening ears possible.

2. COMMUNICATE – we’re gonna broadcast a plea for help, and we’re gonna talk to the very first individual who responds to our call for assistance. We don’t care who they are. Fortunately for us, the only ones who are likely to respond are going to be those who are most likely to be in a position to actually provide us with the assistance we need.

3. CONFESS – honesty is key here. You’re gonna have to tell it all, good and bad, and hold nothing back. Whomever you are communicating with doesn’t know you from Adam, and they need to form a clear picture of you and your situation, and fast, otherwise they may not be able to assist in getting you out of the pickle you find yourself in.

4. COMPLY – listen to what they are telling you to do. Trust them, and obey. You’re likely a frazzled mess, so let them do some thinking for you in order to take the load off. Maybe even make some decisions for you (just keep in mind that you are still the pilot in command, it’s your ass on the line, and even tho you are in deep shit and in need of help, you are ultimately responsible for whatever actions you take and their outcome).

Ordering is a bit different from “the spiritual stuff” perhaps, but the result is the same.

Salvation.
^DARE [Soulwax Remix] — Gorillaz^

Singularities do appear to actually exist. We don’t appear to understand them very well, but they do seem to exist. Once you start looking for them, and once you start finding them, you suddenly start to see them everyfuckingwhere.

To me, that kind of diversity existing, en masse, right under our noses, and the only way to “see” these singularities and their diversity is by actually taking the time to look? Dunno about you, but to me, that says something about this Universe we live in.

^Christian Hornbostel – Out Of The Matrix (Original Mix) [KLING KLONG]^

Please don’t feel cheated at the “size” of this “missive”.

It’s precisely the size that it should be.

The synchros are still spinning.

Everything is exactly where it should be.

Exactly when it should be there.

Exactly as it should be.
^Cocteau twins “Ooze Out and Away, Onehow”^

cYacFa

*******

*Yeah, Cade does pen a good missive, Clicky…*

Until next time, Dear Reader, have a Song…

Missive From ‘Merica: Death On Denial

Hello there, Dear Reader 😀

*That’s rude… /lights up and smokes… Just ‘cos I let you write a few posts, Clicky, no need to get above yourself…*

Today we have an amazing missive from Cade Fon Apollyon for your reading pleasure – see below – and…

*I was just getting to that…*

… The latest Underdog Anthology has now been published. So you can go buy and read it 😀 Death features in a number of the stories, and as Death comes for us all, it might be a good idea to find out what the bugger has been up to 😉

Enjoy! ❤

*******

No need to start the conversation with “I’m suicidal”.

You’re holding me hostage before we’ve even begun to speak.

Really makes me question your motives.

Makes me think of myself as little more than a dishrag handy for soaking up your spills.

I have to do everything perfect, and keep you satisfied, otherwise, anything that happens is now my fault and you are off the hook.

I’ll talk to you.

How about we just...talk

I mean, if you are talking to me, it’s already blatantly obvious that you are desperate.

Yep, it appears we are on the same page.

Somewhat at least.

^Linus and Lucy / Schroeder-Headz^

Recently, there was a video circulating of a guy committing suicide on a livestream, and yes, I watched it. Yes, it was depressing as fuck. Got me to thinking about my own self, my own life, and my desire to understand the mechanics of what is maybe sometimes happening when some choose to take that final leap of their own volition. Didn’t particularly want to watch the video, but kinda had a need to watch it.

In my own life, I’ve been surrounded by suicides of all kinds, the act has always confused me. Why are they doing this? How do I stop them? How can I help them? How can I not wind up in a similar situation? How am I supposed to react in situations like these? How am I supposed to feel about this?

The usual stuff

And of course, there’s the flip side. Those who go on living and their own conclusions about someone killing themselves. The person was a coward. The person was selfish. The person was crazy. They took the easy way out. The person was an asshole anyway, they did the rest of us a favor and we’re lucky to be rid of them. But some will even call those who commit suicide, brave. Courageous. One who took control of their own destiny.

Sounds to me like a lotta people have this shit all figured out.

^Polska Radio One – Волга (Volga)^

Thing is, if you are suicidal, and you don’t tell me you are suicidal, I’m now on the hook for not being more attentive. Not being more attuned to your needs.

“Did they show any signs of being suicidal or distressed in any way?”

The “after” is gonna bring those types of questions if you go through with it.

Le sigh

Where did I go so wrong in not better catering to your needs?

It’s too late tho now.

    Nothing I can do.

   This is depressing.

No way out.

I can see now maybe a bit now why there is an infectious nature to an act of suicide. An embedded “copycat” type of vibe. A looping type of element. Which…Hey! That reminds me. Have you ever wondered if the spinning nature of bodies has a property of capturing and smoothing out waves? Almost like running a piece of metal through a roller, except more like winding a something onto a spool.

Maybe both

Yes, I’m thinking here about waves and how the spinning nature of planets may act to facilitate the dampening of such waves. Alter their frequency, amplitude and/or maybe their wavelength. And in fact, maybe in some cases, not dampen the waves, but actually increase their power. Boost the signal. Maybe even capture a wave, alter it, then re-transmit the signal. Quite the interesting thought when one adds time and capacitors to these thoughts. A planet or maybe some other celestial body could potentially capture a signal, hold onto it for ages, then re-transmit the signal countless years later. Things get REALLY interesting when one stops to think about the nature of life and maybe why it exists when and where it does. A signal could, potentially, start life on a planet. Maybe such a signal could stop life on a planet.

‘Let there be light?’ (Genesis 1:3)

‘It is done?’ (Revelation 21:6)

Maybe that’s what these “vial” things are. Some kind of capacitor that holds a certain something that does a certain something at a certain time. A signal.

Holy fuck...I've gone off the deep end
^Starfucker // STRFKR – Golden Light^

How does one smooth the wave bourn of pain that creates more pain? Transfer? Transmission? Passing on? And is it “bourn of” or “born of”? Or “borne of”?

Bourn is like… a stream or a goal.

Born is like…hatched or deveiled or unveiled or whatever.

Borne is carried.

Noted
^Анна Ворфоломеева — Как мне тебя назвать^

Speaking of rolls…lets talk toilet paper and the peculiarities of hygiene.

  • 1st wipe – paper is absolutely covered in poo;
  • 2nd wipe – not a speck of poo on the paper, WTF?!?!??

That 2nd wipe makes so little sense, you gotta go for a 3rd wipe just to make sure because you don’t believe the 2nd wipe result. Things get even more weird if the 3rd wipe again has poop on the paper. Now you really start to question that 2nd wipe.

Did I miss?

Coulda swore that I felt the paper in the proper position.

What in the hell type of sorcery is this?!?!?

^The Soft Moon – Try^

We relive that Eden thing over and over.

It echos, and echos, and echos.

Creation.

Everything is perfect.

We wander around in this magical and mysterious place of awe and wonder.

It all goes wrong.

We spend our life trying to get back to the start.

Get back what we had.

^Harlem River^

We still have it, we just don’t seem to want to utilize it. Maybe it’s that lingering idea of “better”. As long as there is something in the world that is “better” than what we currently have, no fucking way that where we are can be Eden.

Maybe it's that lingering idea of “worse”

As long as what we currently have is “worse” than what others currently have, no fucking way that where we are can be Eden. Oh, and fuck all those people who have it worse than us. Even tho our worse is better than some, some have it better than us and we are worse off for it.

For better…or for worse. In sickness…and in health. What in the FUCK, is health? We know what sickness is (or we think we do).

So...health = not sick?

That’s seems a pretty poor measure of health.

^Kindrid – Demise^

Took me a lot of time to come to grips with the need for destruction. Come to grips with why the blessing of life needs to come with a curse of death type rider. What’s that? You wanna know how in the fuck I, a backwards and braindead Okie hick, somehow stumbled onto an answer to one of life’s biggest mysteries?

Q: Why do we die?

A: Because there are things that you cannot think of

You do not have experience with everything. As a result, there are things that you simply cannot think of. Things you cannot imagine. However, when you can think of these things, can imagine these things, can and do experience these things, it might be too late to unthink them. Might be too late to unimagine them. Might be too late to not experience them. You may, need an alternate out.

^Артек Электроника — Шагая Сквозь Эпоху^

To relate a bit…

‘And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them.’

-Revelation 6:9 (KJV)

Now, you may have given the concept of immortality a thought here and there, but its likely that you may also equate immortality with some kind of invincibility. You cannot die, therefore, you cannot be hurt. Welp, to relate what a mistake that prolly is, maybe give this thought a bit of contemplation…

Q: When someone you love dies, and you are left alive, are you suddenly immortal?

A: ???

You’re still alive. You’ve got a nasty-ass pain digging in you, and you cannot shake it.

Q: What is your salvation?

A: Death

One of the things that I’m thinking about here is that you have no way of knowing if you are immortal or not until you actually die. Another thing I’m thinking about is the horrible pains and strife that we some of us encounter in life, yet we do not die. Also thinking that we tend to equate immortality not only with invincibility, but we also equate immortality with youth. I’ve lost my train of thought.

Lemme regroup
^Маяк – Река^

Regroup.

Re group.

R e g r o u p .

R e g r o u p . p u o r g e R

. p u o r g e R

      .puorg eR

       .puorgeR

^MARY – Devouring Me^

Ya know, it just occurred to me that we usually watch news programs just to see one thing. There’s one thing that interests us, we can only get the information we need from one place, but they are gonna make us sit through a bunch of other shit before allowing us to see it.

Hrm. Why does this ring a bell? 

OH YEAH!!! School. You’re an individual, so you are likely to only have one main interest, but school is gonna subject you to all kinds of other bullshit before getting to the stuff you like. Work is like that too. Gotta work before you get that paycheck you want. Dinner is also like that. Unlikely that you like everything on your plate, and the plate also has to be clean before there’s any hope of dessert.

^увула – нам остается лишь ждать^

Just because my itinerary does not include you, that does not also imply that the road I’m on leads to nowhere.

^deadmau5 / Faxing Berlin (Piano Acoustic/Orchestral Version & Radio Edit)^

On a scale of 0-10, rate how evil each of the below lifeforms is.

0 being “how dare you even suggest someone would ever think of this creature as evil”, and 10 being “how dare you even suggest someone would ever think of this creature anything but evil”.

01. Vampire bats

02. Pomeranian dog

03. ET – The Extraterrestrial

04. Photosynthetic cyanobacteria

05. Magpies

06. Demons

07. Daemons

08. Grizzly Bears

09. Rats

10. Casper The Friendly Ghost

11. Poison Ivy

12. That person at work who refuses to wear antiperspirant/deodorant.

13. Crabs

14. Butterflies

15. Antlions

16. Fruitless Mulberry trees

I expect your answers on my desk no later than a date and time to be specified at a later date and time.

Be ready
^davEy – Breath of the Nightwind^

All that shit above was written on or about 11 September 2020AD/CE.

Yesterday was Monday the 12th of October 2020AD/CE.

Yes, that makes today Tuesday 13 October 2020AC/DC

I just woke. Started writing. Had a nagging feeling all day yesterday tho.

“Today seems like a holiday.”

Actually, I did not have the nagging feeling all day as much as I had a coupla points where I had “déjà vu” type moments of “today seems like a holiday, so why is it not a holiday?”

  • Is today a Monday? CHECK!
  • Are we in the holiday season? CHECK!

So why is everyone not ranting and raving about a holiday?

This morning, I remember my feelings from yesterday, and suddenly…there it is.

Yesterday, was Columbus Day

Ah yes, the latest parental figure to beat on…Christopher Columbus. It’s now known as “Indigenous Peoples’ Day” in some areas, but not everyone observes it. Divisions. Divisions within divisions.

Hrm
^Trust – F.T.F.^
We interrupt this program for an important news flash...

Mystery = SOLVED! Next?

An actual “Mystery = SOLVED!” that has a shred of merit. Whodathunkit?

😛

^Забавные игры – Берег (Remastered)^

This flight had me completely perplexed. I admit that “crop dusting” or some other agricultural use crossed my mind due to the remoteness of the location, but I never in all my years of flying and being in/around aviation have I heard of a Beechcraft King Air being used for crop dusting. I focused on either some kind of pipeline or electrical lines inspection, or maybe searching for a downed something, but…at night?

So I focused on maybe a pipeline leak or spill of some kind since the patterns were in some remote areas which likely are laced with creeks and could carry a release, but again…at night?

When I looked into the flight history of the aircraft and saw that this very aircraft had done very similar flights only recently, and since the person that I was speaking with had set their mind to contacting the FAA to find out what was going on, I admit that I settled back into a “wait and see” kind of posture since none of this made much sense. The plane obviously had some kind of special clearance to be flying so low, otherwise their very first flight at these altitudes would been their last. But, I found at least three other flights that were very similar, so yeah, wait and see. But mosquitoes? Spraying for mosquitoes with a King Air?!? At 200 fucking feet?

I fucking never would have thought of that even tho’ now, yeah, it makes sense that early evening is the perfect time to spray for mosquitoes and those flight patterns make much more sense now. Here where I live, they use spraying trucks for mosquito control, and the trucks drive up and down streets spraying the stuff into the air, but again it never would have occurred to me that someone is utilizing aircraft for the same purpose. I learned something. I learned a bunch actually.

Noted
^Pauk-Mumije ( 1982 Bosnia New Wave -Synth – Post Punk -Darkwave)^

The bad part in this?

CHEMTRAILS!!!

People are obviously being sprayed, and yet, at least some of these people appear to have no prior knowledge that they are being dusted at 200 feet by an airplane spraying for mosquito control.

The last time that we here had active mass spraying was I think in either 2011 or 2012 with all that Zika panic. I seem to recall some panic that Zika and West Nile were going to cause some huge rash of illness and death, and so these giant trucks drove up and down the streets at night creating this massive weird mist cloud that hung heavy in the air. But the media had so hyped the disease prior to the spraying, that when the notices went out that spraying was gonna occur and for everyone to stay indoors during certain hours, I got the feeling that pretty much everyone got the message.

How do I know this? Welp, because I got a chair and went and sat up on my roof to observe the goings on. No cars, no people, no sound…it was completely dead outside an hour prior to the spraying, and remained dead until I heard the trucks start to rove up and down the streets. At a grumbling idle they came. I could see the mist cloud boiling up over the tops of the trees in the distance. When I saw the headlights appear on my street, I looked up and noticed that a strange halo was beginning to encircle the moon and encase the stars. I figured it was time to get down and go inside.

The good part in this?

There are still people in the world who are worried about mosquitoes and mosquito-borne diseases in the middle of this nCoV-2019 pandemic thingie.

^Don’t Leave – Gummy Boy^

Hrm

    Mosquitoes.

  Mosque Key Toes.

          Musky Toes.

Muss Keet Ohs. Moss Kiitos.

Zika.

    West Nile.

   Malaria.

   Dengue Fever.

   SARS.

   Swine Flu.

   Coronavirus.

Bubonic Plague.

Tuberculosis.

HIV.

Lupus.

Lyme.

Leprosy?

Morgellon’s.

Pangolins.

Bats.

Rats.

Fleas.

Ticks.

Tiger King.

Exotics.

Q: Would you put your “pet” down if you knew that they were facilitating the transfer of nCoV-2019 to your family/friends/others?

A: ???

What am I saying? Of course you would! You collar them, leash them, chip them, tattoo them, train them to behave like you think they should, and punish them when they don’t. You’d drop that doggo, kitten, hamster, rat, snake or bearded dragon like a bad habit if you were to learn that they were to blame for the world’s woes. You with fish/fish tanks can keep them.

And for you lazy fuckers…

  • Keet = a type of bird from Guinea;
  • Kiitos = “thank you” in Finnish.
You're welcome
^Hey Moon^

What is this “tick” thing that appears by certain people’s names on Twitter? I guess it separates “the elite” from average scumbags.

Ticks are bad, mmmmmkay?
^Удары синтезаторов – Предчувствие космоса^

Last night was the first night in months that I’ve not had nightmares all night long. Pretty sure last night’s dreams weren’t good, but I also wouldn’t call them nightmares. Certainly not of the intensity of late. All these nightmares have been wearing my ass out. Don’t feel like reading, don’t feel like writing, don’t feel like watching anything, can’t think straight, have but one thought on my mind…what in the bloody hell is driving this non-stop onslaught of horrific dreams?

But to be fair, that thought really doesn’t pester me and I’ve really not sought any answers. Not done any soul-searching, not sought to understand it, not sought to stop it. Whatever it is, just trying to endure it. I figure if there are any answers to be had, they’ll come. This may be reckless of me.

 Maybe not
^Walter Wanderley – Os grilos^

Cade: Howdy!

X: ….

Cade: Hello?

Z: …

Cade: Helloooooo thar.

A: …

Cade: “A:” never speaks, so she’s not the best of indicators. Anyone there?

0: …

Cade: Anyone at all?

T: They’re ignoring you.

Cade: O HAI! So, why aren’t you ignoring me?

T: I am ignoring you.

Cade: Um, no you aren’t.

T: Yes I am. I just wanted to let you know that we are ignoring you.

Cade: Is this because I’ve been ignoring you?

T: …

Cade: I’ll take that for a no.

Z: That’s a definite yes.

Cade: Pray tell how you’d know?

Z: I checked.

Cade: Checked? Checked what? You keeping a journal or something?

Z: Maybe.

Cade: Soooo…that would mean that you may have some indication as to why I’ve been having non-stop nightmares since Spring of this year?

Z: I show it’s more like July.

Cade: HA! I already knew that. So you do actually have something there which may be indicative of why I’ve been having nightmares.

Z: …

Cade: Fuckin’ hell. I’ve painted myself into a corner. Any newbies out there wanna take this opportunity to chime in?

V: …

Cade: Well that’s one at least. Any infrequent visitors up for a chat?

G: …

Cade: Hrm. I’m quite shocked that at least “0:” doesn’t have an earful to give me.

X: Oh they’ve got an earful to give you.

Cade: GREAT! Let’s have it then.

0: …

Cade: That indeed, is quite the earful. Says a lot.

0: See ya around kiddo.

Cade: Hrm. I’ll add that to my list of things to chew on.

0: …

B: What’s all this recent business about ghosts?

Cade: Well, I’ve just been doing a lot of pondering about the notion recently.

B: You did a whole series of posts on pareidolia prior to Google/Blogger blocking you.

Cade: Correct. Six posts in total, but I only shared 5 with the class. The basic notion was of a sighted person “seeing things” as being odd concept to ponder.

X: You mean to say that, when a sighted someone sees a something, and another sighted someone disputes what has been seen because they themselves either did not see it or do not see it, that paradigm is causing you personally some measure of dismay?

Cade: Yes. I was not there/did not see “Mr. October” bang those three home runs off of those three pitchers back in 1977, but it happened.

B: Others have seen it. It was filmed.

Cade: Technically, no one, with maybe the exception of Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, actually saw Neil Armstrong walk on the moon.

B: And your point?

Cade: Welp, I can understand the need to use one’s own experiences with things to help others with theirs.

X: But what you have a problem with, is that concept taken to excess.

Cade: Yes. If I were unsighted, it would not be a problem.

Z: But because both you and those around you are sighted, it’s a problem.

Cade: Exactly.

T: Ever stop to think that maybe you shouldn’t share so much?

Cade: Indeed I have.

Z: Shows here that you pretty much completely shut down for most of your life.

Cade: I’d concur with that.

X: So what’s the problem? Keep things to yourself, problem(s) solved.

Cade: I um…I do kinda live in a vacuum, but I also kinda don’t.

0: You’re referring to “the vacuum of space”?

Cade: Indeed.

T: I think you are thinking about the concept of “Familiars”.

Cade: You aren’t wrong. Half in, half out. Not here, not there, and kinda not anywhere…

0: And yet, there you are.

X: The slightly crooked king.

Cade: Yes. That concept too has been on my mind.

Z: But everything is…fuzzy, is that it?

Cade: Very. Like certain parts of the past no longer exist.

A: I bet that recent Astrology talk about changing the past in order to make for a better future hit you particularly hard.

Cade: Indeed it did. Any such changes would not only affect me…

0: But others.

Cade: Yes indeedy. It’s that whole stupid time-machine thing about going back in time to kill someone.

X: Rumor has it that would save a lot of pain and suffering.

Cade: Um…hasn’t all that pain and suffering already occurred?

T: I think that’s a fair assessment.

Cade: So now we’re back to rending and tears.

X: Has that too been heavy on your mind?

Cade: Yes.

X: A cloth?

Cade: Yes. But also what it means.

X: You never understood it before?

Cade: Well, the symbolism was that it was torn from top to bottom. Hence, that is interpreted as “God did it”.

X: That was some thick material.

Cade: Some stress that fact, some do not. I think some even dispute it because if the Tabernacle cloth was indeed that thick, it woulda weighed like 800 tons and there was no fucking way they could have carried that thing around whilst wandering in the desert.

X: Details, details, details.

Cade: So yeah, now we’re right back to some people see a something, others do not, which raises doubt.

0: People do sometimes take liberties with telling tales.

Cade: But we here in the now generally are not taught that history is a subjective something which is likely to be more tall-tale than fact. History is taught as being rigid, not fluid.

Z: Revisionism.

Cade: I really, REALLY fucking need to stop writing here and go get to work on…

A: You…might…want to bite your tongue right there.

Cade: Indeed. I’m in a quandary.

A: Do you edit, or do you not edit.

Cade: That’s the truth of it.

A: And what is this truth you speak of.

Cade: Typically, I’ve not a clue what truth is. But in this case, I feel that I was about to overstep some bounds.

A: And you are stuck here and now with a dilemma.

Cade: Yes. What is not mine, is not mine.

A: You gonna “mine” that concept any further?

Cade: Yes.

A: Careful.

Cade: Noted.

A: …

Don’t ask me…I don’t know. Kinda working on it tho’. And don’t ask what that means either because I don’t know.

How many people know you exist?

Yeah…I thought so…not many.

Don’t sweat it tho…nobody knows I exist either.

^Cannonball Adderley – Groovy Samba^

cYacFa

*******

Have a Song, Dear Reader 😀

A Little Writing Update…

Apols! I’ve been away from the LoL, Dear Reader, busy writing a short story for Underdog Anthology XII. Fortunately Clicky has been holding the fort, hopefully keeping you suitable entertained with his CLICK5 posts…

*I know you are, Clicky… /scrolls through list… Wow, and so many of them…*

I can confirm that my short story, ‘What Time Do You Finish?’ has been completed, submitted, accepted and edited…

*Yep, Death from ‘Waste Not, Want Not’ features in it, Clicky… /lights up… and this time ‘e brings ‘is mates…*

… And there is still time for me to write another one…

*That reminds me… /drags… I’ve still gotta mutilate Percy Bysshe Shelley for the Afterword… /smokes contentedly… ‘Aussie Madness’ seems more than fitting…*

*There will indeed by a full, blue moon on ‘alloween, Clicky… /winks…*

If I can get my arse into gear…

*You think I should write an ‘arry story, Clicky? …/flicks ash… About wot?*

*Interesting… /nods… That could work…*

Of course once the submission deadline for UAXII has passed, Dear Reader, I’ll be back with more shamble posts and hopefully some missives from Text US buddie, the Okie Devil himself, Cade Fon Apollyon. If you’ve been wondering what he’s been up to, Cade has a fantastic series of posts at his gaff exploring pareidolia…

*Heh. Workout shapes …/stubs butt…*

… Well worth a look-see. Until then, I will leave you in the capable fins of Library Assistant, Clicky…

… Have a Song ❤