Missive From ‘Merica: Syncing Spooky

Happy Tuesday, Dear Reader 😀

The latest Underdog Anthology, volume XV, is now available for purchase…

*I saw you posted the Afterword, Clicky… /lights up and smokes…*

… And in plenty of time for Halloween…

*What in the actual fuck?! …/flicks ash… Wait, Cade’s missive begins with spoo… /rolls eyes… ‘k… /drags… Seriously, what a bunch of wankers. Unvirtuous, virtue signalling wankers…*

… I’ll post my Halloween story ‘OK Charon!’ at the LoL on the day, but right now, we have a new missive from the Okie Devil in the great State of Text US. Sit back, take a load off and enjoy the wry musings of Cade Fon Apollyon…

*******

If I can achieve and maintain an erection, but my penis is not currently under contract from any outside vendors, does that make me self-employed when/if I masturbate? If so, do I owe myself money?

I'm potentially running up quite a debt here. 

Makes me wonder about the nature of ejaculation as it pertains to nocturnal emissions. Is there some dream girl floating around out in dreamland who owes me money? And what is it called when a day-sleeper has a wet dream? Is that a diurnal emission? Do the rates change from night to day?

I must know these things.
^Ben Böhmer – Promise You^

Ever operated a cash register? Ever handled cash? Most importantly, do you know how to make change? Lemme ask that again…do you, know how, to make, change.

Do you, know how to make change.

Do you know, how to make change.

Do you know how, to make change.

Do you know to make, change.

Change is all the rage, so if you don’t know how to make it, how can you ever change?

As far as that goes, if you don’t know how to make change, how can anyone else ever expect to make change? You are a knowitall, after all. That’s the rumor you’ve been spreading anyway.

^Chris Lake – Sundown (Original Mix)^

There have been a great many teachers that I look back on with a great deal of love and admiration. However, I get the feeling that I never fully appreciated them back in the day. Don’t get me wrong, as bad as I hated school, there were absolutely a few classes that I really enjoyed taking, and there were some teachers who I really looked forward to seeing them and hearing from them each day. But there was a dynamic that existed at the time which I’m fairly certain never made me appreciate them as much at the time as I now think that I appreciated them then. Meaning, yes, I appreciate them very much now for the things that they taught me back then, but back then I was too green and stupid and inexperienced to appreciate them as much as I think I did.

What’s the purpose of exploring this idea in the here and now? Respect. More than that, acknowledgment in the now of my own disrespect back then. Owning my own shortcomings, and not making my relationship with teachers past out to being something that it was not. Don’t put my finger on the historical scale simply because I have the benefit of being able to do so in the here and now, for my own gain/benefit, and I can do so with little fear of exposure for my fraud. Own the times when I was an obnoxious, rebellious, ignorant and disruptive little shit who caused my teacher(s) a fuckton of grief that they likely did not deserve. I may have even hurt some. Randomly hit one of my teachers with a smart-ass verbal twist or jab during the course of their day, all so I could stand out in the moment amongst my peers. Make my fellow students laugh. I never thought of the weight that may have put on my teachers’ shoulders. Never took a single moment to think of my teacher(s) going home that night with a heavy heart because of something I’d done during the course of their day. Never contemplated what it might be like for them to sit alone in their apartment pondering what in the hell they did to deserve that, or try and relate to their partner or roommate or whatever that a student of theirs had humiliated them during the day.

I don’t know if I can say in the very moment of me writing this that “I am sorry”, nor express myself in such a way as to relate that yes, I am indeed very sorry for always attempting to be the class clown for my benefit at their expense. But I have accepted (or am trying to accept) that these things have happened, did happen, likely continue to happen, I can’t think of a single instance when there was malice in my heart, the fact that I had no malice in my heart really doesn’t matter, but mostly I’m aware that I owe you a great deal of gratitude for hanging in there and putting up with my bullshit during my own learning process(es). Hopefully, via these experiences, you learned something too, and I’m really hoping that whatever you may have learned isn’t just and only that I’m a dry and sarcastic smart-mouth who you don’t understand and comes off as a bit of an asshole sometimes.

Not my fault you're projecting.
^N-Joi – Anthem (Official Video)^

What I was really thinking about in the previous section was the idea of me and my writing probably sometimes coming off as little more than a heckler, sitting in the cheap seats, and doing little more than taking cheap shots at those who are out there actually doing a something and making a difference or whatever.

This is not my intent. 

I realize that doesn’t matter, but yeah, my intent is not to be a someone who sits in the wings and makes clever observations for notoriety/attention. We live in a world in which virtually every arena, the information flow is one-way. We are spoken to, and rarely, if ever, are we allowed to speak. Speeches, messages from the pulpit, rules, laws, practices, instructions, procedures, wishes, spells, charms, formulas, movies, newspapers, magazines, books, newsletters, television, radio, the web, you name it…virtually everything as it pertains to any dialogue of any kind in our society of our times, is all one-way, and the time and opportunity for questions, observations, suggestions and interactions of any kind are almost nil.

On those rare occasions where we mere mortals are allowed to speak, we’re usually so traumatized by the experience/opportunity that we fuck it up completely. We stumble, stammer, our voice shakes, or we’re so afraid to say what we really and actually want to say because we’re afraid we’re gonna look/feel like an idiot, so we throw a softball pitch, or don’t say what we want to say, or change the wording, or change the subject, or worse still, we say nothing at all…in every case, it’s a fucking nightmare on hell’s wheels. We never actually get the opportunity to speak enough, to actually learn how to do it. We never get to interact enough, to actually learn how to do it. This makes us very poor at expressing ourselves and expressing ourselves well, this lack of opportunity to speak also has the quality of seemingly encouraging us to express ourselves incorrectly or perhaps even inappropriately. We just flat out do not get enough “at bat” attempts in our lives to get better when it’s our turn at the plate and we’re facing down that major league pitcher. We never get to know, who we really are, via those experiences which reveal to us who we can be.

Me? Sure, I realize that there are likely times it may appear that I’m just some douchebag of less-than-average intelligence, taking pot-shots at “known” people from the relative safety of the shadows of anonymity where I reside, but the question is…

Q: Am I?

A: ¿Am I some douchebag taking cheap shots at targets of opportunity as they arise/present themselves?

I’ve got no answer(s) for you, and you probably wouldn’t like my answer even if I had one to give. I can only tell you that I am aware of this dynamic, and more than that, I try to be mindful of this dynamic. Beyond that, I guess you’re just gonna have to make up your own mind and speak your own piece. I’m not in the business of thinking for you nor am I in the business of speaking for you. Get involved. Speak for yourself. Mix it up a bit. Learn how to do it. Take the chance of sticking your own neck out, do so of your own accord, and let your own thoughts be known. That’s what I’m doing. I’m no fucking good at it, but yeah, that’s what I’m doing.

/shrug
^Alex H – There’s No Turning Back (Dub Mix)^

You wouldn’t have any inhibitions about drinking water that came from a huge lake would you? Or water that came from a large river, or some massive glacier or iceberg? Modern water considerations and concerns notwithstanding regarding water/impurities/pollutants/etc., what I’m getting at, is that if your water came from some large, easily-accessible and popular source, would you not drink this water specifically because it came from a large/easily-accessible/popular source. Mainstream, if you will. Just wondering why someone would feel guilty about consuming a something that came from the mainstream. Like say…oh I dunno, pop music for example. If it tastes good, and it satiates your thirst, what’s the problem? You afraid someone is gonna see your ears drinking that stuff? Feel like you’re alone in a bar and sucking on the cheap swill for a cheap thrill because it’s something you like, when suddenly all your friends burst in and catch you indulging in something that is not up to their standards?

^LMFAO ft. Lauren Bennett, GoonRock – Party Rock Anthem (Official Video)^

Pure candy. Pure ear candy. Let’s us run that Willy Wonka-esque creation through some aftermarket filters and see how the video tastes after.

^Music videos without music: LMFAO – Party Rock Anthem ft. Lauren Bennett, GoonRock^
Aftertaste...blech. 

Sooooo much better with the music. In fact, that song is pretty fucking good without the video. Uptempo, good foot-tapper, anyone can sing along, it follows the “anthem song” template whilst adding enough of it’s own spice and flair to stand out in the pack, ain’t much if anything not to like about this new spin on an old dish. But then, you get added to the mix. You and you uptight and exclusive friends and all those rules and regulations and protocols and procedures governing what you can and cannot consume. Then, this song comes on…and you, like it.

What to do?! What to do?! 

Maybe this song is a signal from the universe that it’s time for you and your pals to part company. For you to go your own way. I mean, that’s the point of exclusivity, right? Go your own way and be your own thing? Now, who the hell woulda thunk one could obtain exclusivity via drinking from the big pool.

^Pharrell Williams – Happy (Video)^

When you see a tornado, that’s probably what you see.

When I see a tornado, this is what I see.

When one views the Earth/Terra from outside, we seem to have little to no difficulty rotating everything 90° in our heads. We look upon our sphere as if we’re looking out on the horizon rather than looking “down”. I guess maybe this is because our planet is nestled in the void, and something somewhere in our being lets us know that we are basically looking up, which really, is looking out. What I’m thinking about here that, from outside of our planet, we don’t seem to have as much difficulty with translation as it pertains to position as we do when we are on our planet. When one is “upright” on terra firma and/or somewhat upright, we seem to have difficulty with the notion that up is out, out is out, down is out, left is out, right is out. Everything is out. The only “in” that seems to exist is from, the outside. But even that doesn’t hold up for long once one goes deep enough. Keep going in, and eventually, in will once again become out. Some point exists in space or “a” space where everything that is, flips, and becomes everything that was. Gravity and attraction would have to play a part in this I would think, but there’s also something strange going on there with lines and curves. Hiding within that and those, appears to be some strange and unchangeable something. Some absolute. Some programmatic-ish something which exists in nature that says…

begin

if is <> is

then is := was;

end;

Maybe that’d be better stated as…

begin

if is <> is AND was = is

then do

is := was;

was := is;

end;

end;

Something weird about that tho since a something would almost need to happen, before it actually happens. If for no other reason than to ensure that both things happen simultaneously, which should ensure that the values are passed correctly with little to no impact on the system. Tachyons? Maybe also a delay in processing time, to hide the procedure from the observer/experiencer maybe? Maybe also a third heat via speed and distance in Neutrinos and some other goodies? Never can be too safe afterall and a cushion could certainly provide some insurance to ensure that the flip always and forever, occurs. Still, one would think that over time, that’d build up a helluva deficit in time. Maybe that’s how time is actually created tho. Build up a time deficit within time that can never be repaid, so to speak. Keep paying, and keep paying, expansion, expansion, etc., plenty is paid, but the original debt can never be repaid because the meter is still running, always has been, always will be.

^Lane 8 – No End In Sight / Outro^

Odd linear quality to that previous thought. Not so much an expansion as much as an expansion in a particular direction, at a particular time, from a particular perspective and/or certain perspectives. What I’m thinking about here is, imagine an hourglass turned on its side, and some mysterious force is pushing and pulling the enclosed sand from one end to the other. In our Universe, science and scientists always seem to see a balloon. I can see that, but what I mainly see is what I described above. A back and forth. Some is rushing away, some towards. Just kinda depends on where the observer is as to which direction matter and energy are running at that particular point in time. And I guess instead of a single hourglass, there could be many. I’d think there’s nothing prohibiting things moving in different directions at different times, nor that there’d a be any limits on the iterations, instances, nor any limits on the nesting/embedding. Cept maybe the aforementioned of course. That…thing…that causes “not” to become “is” whilst simultaneously, all things remain unchanged.


^Ben Böhmer – Purple Line^

Hrmmmm…I get the feeling I’m being trolled here in some way.

Of all the things I can think of to do with a pressure cooker, banging on the fucking thing whilst it is under pressure is NOT, one of them. Still, I cannot tell if the advertiser is being totally irresponsible here for the sake of advertising, or if they are just trolling me in some way.

Both are a possibility I guess.

Oh, and you’ll need to watch the video below to know what I’m talking about.

^Avery Products – Pressure Cookers vs. Avery^

Speaking of “not following the rules”, being irresponsible and/or being deceptive in making a buck, seems like more and more “the rules” are being flouted, and either A) no one is paying attention, B) no one knows that there are rules to be followed, or C) no one cares. Could be all that.

Are those Hawaiian rolls and coffee really from Hawaii?

Quite sure that packaging is supposed to indicate where a something is actually manufactured and/or where a something comes from. It indicates that there is an audit trail, which indicates nothing shady is going on anywhere along the line, and that stuff you are shoving into your pie-hole is probably for the most part safe/not going to cause harm. Of course, loads of interests out there that don’t care if gold comes from illegal mines in South America or Philippines, or if diamonds come from some war-torn country in Africa, or even if your titanium is coming from illegal purchases made from Russia by your own government…but you can’t eat that stuff, or at least none of it can hurt you.

(so you think anyway) 

But rolls? Yeah, if I go to Hawaii looking to contact the manufacturer of some rolls that had a bunch of metal shavings in them or made me sick, but the manufacturer ain’t actually in Hawaii? Well, what am I supposed to do now? Where did these phantom rolls come from? What recourse do I have? HELP!!!! I guess I have to turn to…my government.

Yeesh. 

Isn’t my government already supposed to be on top of shit like this? Prohibiting companies from operating in such a way as to be deceptive or misleading? I swear I have to do everything myself.

^Kaskade & Moguai feat. Zip Zip Through The Night – Something Something Champs [Cover Art]^

Knowing what we know, offering the vaccine “for free” isn’t much of an incentive. Hell, all kinds of products and services that offer that “free introductory service” or “free introductory time period” bullshit, and we KNOW what a scam that is.

It's a trap. 

Get you in the door, and they can treat you however they want. Always trying to up-sell you, weird charges and fees, damn near impossible to cancel, impossible to get help, and if you bitch or show even the slightest inkling of dissatisfaction, they’ll cut you off. Can’t help but think this “vaccine for free” stuff isn’t any different.

^Above & Beyond – Sun In Your Eyes (@Spencer Brown Remix)^
Eventually it’ll be virtually impossible to talk about anything objectively without looking like an idiot.
Eventually it’ll be virtually impossible to talk about anything objectively without feeling like an idiot.
Eventually it’ll be virtually impossible to talk about anything objectively without being an idiot.
Eventually it’ll be virtually impossible to think about anything without looking like an idiot.

Eventually it’ll be virtually impossible to think about anything without feeling like an idiot.

Eventually it’ll be virtually impossible to think about anything without being an idiot.

Remember, your opinion…does…not…matter.

Helluva rabbit hole there.

One helluva weapon.

Silence.
^Kalsy – Summertime Bliss^

You want signs?

Here’s a sign for you.

Gun manufacturer Smith & Wesson moving headquarters, some production from Springfield to Tennessee

That there is a fucking sign and a half.

^Lumidelic – Awakening Dreams (Original Mix)^

Let’s explore some psychology on the topic of being accused of something you did not do, defending oneself, and let’s use one of history’s most famous bad guys, Al Capone. Al Capone was accused of not paying his taxes. If Al were to say “I didn’t do it”, does that actually constitute an affirmation/admission of guilt? Al is actually accused of not doing something, as such, saying “I didn’t do it” actually means “yeah I did it”. Nevermind that Al was only being accused of income tax evasion because the attempts to convict him and send him to prison on other charges all failed. You can’t get someone on the charges you want to get them on, so you get them on those charges in a roundabout way, by getting them different charges.

Sounds...illegal. 

More than that, sounds just flat out wrong. Ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, the reason you cannot get this someone on the charges you want to get them on is because they are…innocent of those charges? Lemme splain where I’m going with this. There are many groups that have vetting processes. Sometimes these vetting processes are better defined by calling them “initiations”. It is with that in mind that we should point out that these vetting/initiation processes are usually done “in-house”, but we should also note that sometimes, people can take it upon themselves to engage in these processes. “Prove themselves”, if you will, and do so without knowledge, consent, approval, nor at the behest/prompting of the group typically responsible for these processes. Some lone wolf wants in the club, this lone wolf researches/learns what they think the vetting processes to be, then they start doing these things of their own accord in the hopes of getting noticed and eventually being welcomed in to whatever circle they desire to join/be a part of.

To make this a little more relatable, maybe think of some person seeing a bunch of “punk rockers” on the street, this person decides they too want to be a punk rocker, goes out and buys a bunch of “punk rock” clothes, gets a “punk rocker” haircut, maybe pierces their cheek, gets a tattoo or two, then proceeds to loiter in the same areas/venues that punk rockers do. In our case however, we’re thinking more about gangsters circa 1930’s Chicago and/or New York, and maybe that there were “wannabes” out there who maybe started doing some gangster shit in order to get a reputation and hopefully get noticed by the mob. Maybe even get asked to join, because like, you’ve already proved yourself for this very reason, right?

With that in mind, let us take this in a bit of a different direction since “the mob” or even “gangsters” is a bit ambiguous. There are, after all, usually many more than just one faction, and these various factions within “the mob” are more likely to be at odds rather than the homogeneous/homologous something it is typically made out to be by outsiders. That’s right, if our lone wolf gets noticed by “the mob”, it is likely that our wolf is on many different radars, and no telling how these various interests may decide to handle this situation. Hell, they’ve basically got a rogue element that they can play six ways from Sunday, do so to their own advantage, having little to no culpability themselves, and maybe even take out their competition in the process. See where I’m going with this yet?

Yes? No? Maybe? 

I don’t either. Just out for a drive for the sake of driving.

^Shapeshifters – Lola’s Theme (Club Mix)^

The St. Valentine’s Day Murders have always been spun as a clear-cut case of agents acting according to the will of/on the instructions of one Alphonse Capone whilst Al himself sat it out in Florida. However, what if some rival faction actually performed this operation for the specific purpose of getting Al pinned with the crime. Al was Public Enemy #1, everyone wants his head, so, why not give one of your own enemies the knife to do it with? Hell, the US Government itself could probably rationalize and justify killing all those people just to get to Capone. Not only are you getting rid of the gangsters to be murdered, you get Capone in the process…

it's win all around. 

In thinking of pursuing Capone on things that are basically unrelated to the real reasons you are persecuting this someone, occurs to me that this is a long, dark train that has no end. Creates questions instead of answering them. It’d be like me yelling at my girlfriend for not fixing dinner, when I’m actually pissed at her because she wrecked the car and I couldn’t give a fuck if she fixed dinner or not. They may have been guilty of both, but the lack of clarity and “solving” one problem via another just seems wrong to me. Convenient for me in the moment perhaps, but it opens a door that may be difficult or maybe even impossible to close.

^Binary Finary- 1999 (Best version released)^

Don’t ask me why initiations have been on my mind. They have tho. And even tho it’s been a coupla weeks since that above was written, something damn weird just appeared on my radar…

All this talk of jab, the jab and jabbing are bad enough, but what was really strange is that it made me think of a tweet I’d seen only last night…

And of course there was this just a coupla days ago…

Not sure what to make of all of it other than 1) things appear to be getting back to normal, and 2) I guess that security bridge in Operation Bridger is still under construction or something.

Operation Bridger

The word “bridger” appears to have some interesting meanings.

“One who bridges, or connects two previously separate things.”

“U.S. fur trader and mountain man, noted for his tall tales.”

That lockdown interlude gave the world but such a brief taste of happiness, hopefulness and harmony. Now that’s ending, it’s “game on!” I guess.

As you were, citizens. 

Oh, and it appears that David Amess dude has died 😦

Sorry you died/got killed dude. Hopefully you and your party haven’t left too big of a mess in your wake.

^Gareth Emery – Long Way Home [Official Video]^

Was the final sentence in that previous paragraph totally out of line?

Disrespectful? 

Welp, hopefully nobody turns the dude’s coffin over and creates a mess of Amess at his wake. Assuming he has a wake. The dude sounds like he was more or less upright and righteous, or at least tried to be, and we all prolly know how hella hard that is to do in this wicked old world. Prolly even more difficult to do in Old Blighty, land of sin, evil and corruption.

But what I was thinking about is I get the feeling that Conservatives and Libertarians alike are quite furious at Conservatives currently. I mean sure, all this SARS-CoV2/COVID-19 stuff and some other weird shit has gotten Brexit almost completely off the radar, but no one in the UK (at least on the Conservative side) seems to be very happy about how Conservatives have been handling themselves regarding CO\ /ID. I guess at its heart, instead of opposing this restrictive and quasi-dystopian legislation, the Conservatives appear to be whole-hog for it. Track and Trace, firing the hero essential workers of the NHS who refuse to get the COVID vaccine even tho they somehow survived the entirety of the initial pandemic, social distancing and mask wearing requirements not being eased and lockdowns that last forever, difficult if not impossible to travel, all kinds of crazy shit that really doesn’t make sense from a “conservative perspective” I guess. But, they are a political party, and every political party is gonna have a mantra of “toe the line, or else”, so maybe they’re just showing their true colors? I mean, I don’t live there, so I have to wonder how “conservative” conservatives really are in the UK.

Maybe there’s some other game afoot here. Maybe the conservatives are playing the long game, and too many people are too focused on the short game(s). I know here in the US, the best way to get something banished forever, is to legalize it. Once a something is actually on the books and in the system, just about anything can be done with it. Assuming the game plan of the Conservatives is indeed to get the laws on the books via their own methods and means so they can better drive them from there, that is. Sounds risky for sure, and a helluva lotta people are gonna pay some hefty short-term prices that may really fuck them up long-term. And it’s not like the Conservatives can come right out and say “hey, we’re doing this for the sole purpose of fucking it up completely and making sure no one can do this very easily in the future”, it’s all gotta be done on the down low and hush hush. The down side to playing such a dangerous game is them getting voted out of office, the Conservatives don’t get to see it through, and all those juicy control laws are on the books unaltered and unchallenged, and just waiting for the right wrong person and/or people to come along and get their filthy mitts on them.

^Source Code – Morning Glory^

The other day some random dude followed me on Twitter. As per usual, I didn’t pay them much mind for a span to see if they’d unfollow me if I didn’t immediately follow them back. Lotta folks on Twitter appear to do that. Follow account for the express purpose of obtaining a follow back.

Trolling, for followers. 

Anyway, as per usual, I went and looked at the dude’s Twitter feed and started the brief vetting process that I typically do, then followed the dude back. I then get what I assume is an automated DM to me encouraging me to go listen to his music and “help spread the word”, I guess about his music, and him and his enterprise or whatever. No way this automated process or bot or whatever could know this, but I’d already listened to the song they sent me in the DM, and my first inkling was to reply back and solicit them to, in return, purchase a copy of the latest Underdog Anthology and maybe go read me and my friends’ blogs.

 rofl...yeah right. 

Ask a bot or automated process, to buy a book. I guess maybe I could query it as to possibly buying/reading the Kindle version? Anyway, not ragging on the guy really as much as just pointing out that, I, tend to plug people’s shit because I choose to of my own accord. If I find something interesting, I share it because there are others out there who might dig it whether it be music or movies or art or information or whatever. Like I said, I’d already listened to that song and was already gonna plug it even tho it’s not really my kind of music if for no other reason that it’s not bad and because I know that there might be someone else out there who’d like it a lot. I’d be there Bridger in this case: bringing people together. And also, there’s a bit in the video that says “MAKE IT ALL ABOUT YOU” which, was syncy as hell because I’d just written something for my own blog where…I make a section that is not about me, all about me. And now that I’ve done the same by making this entire section about me, me and me, here’s the fucking song. Enjoy.


(it's actually pretty good)
^Scott Krokoff – Far Too Many TImes (Official Video)^

cYa | cFa

^George Hall & His Taft Hotel Orch. – Good Morning Glory (1933)^

*******

*Do what?! …/stubs butt… Just another bunch of unvirtuous virtue signalling wankers… /sighs… Spooky…*

So, there you have it, Dear Reader. Thank you for your time and attention, and… Have a Song…

CLICK5: Aussie Madness

CLICK5: Fuel Me Once…

Missive From ‘Merica: Bend It, Shape It, Shake & Bake It

*Blimey! I’ve been to three of the Canary Islands, but not that one… /lights up and smokes… Wait! Isn’t that the volcano in that Horizon doc I saw ages ago, Clicky?*

*Thought so. Shit… /plumes smokes… well, let’s hope that don’t ‘appen…*

Hello there, Dear Reader. I’ve been under the kosh for the past few days, as I’ve been trying to finish writing ‘OK Charon!’, the next installment of my Ronageddon series of stories for the next Underdog Anthology. So I was delighted to find a missive from Cade Fon Apollyon waiting for me this morning… 

*It’s always a pleasure to read Cade’s writing, Clicky…* 

… And I couldn’t wait to share it with you. Enjoy!

*******

If those of you running things on the web and/or various websites have wondered if you are approaching critical mass on the number of ads you are subjecting visitors to, the answer is yes. For this reason, there will be no YouTube video accompanying this section. Sweet Jesus, you fuckers are off your rockers with the ads. And the popups now are worse than they were in the late 1990’s/early 2000’s. In fact, it’s now a rarity that a website does not give me a popup of some kind. Fucking hell…you do want me to read your content, right? Not spend the entirety of my time on your site clicking off popups in an attempt to read your content, then getting frustrated and leaving, never to return? But yeah, critical mass, website ads, you’re there.

Speaking of, I’ve had my current email address for 6 and 1/2 years, and in that entire span of time, I have not gotten ONE single piece of unsolicited email nor have I gotten one single piece of spam.

NOT...ONE! 

However, since ordering some Pizza Hut pizza online a coupla months ago? I’ve had a rich relative who I didn’t even know existed up and die and they left me like 30 million dollars, I’ve had someone offer to pay me several million dollars to help them smuggle their millions out of some backwater country, the United Nations/World Bank has discovered that they owe me 5.4 million dollars for some unknown reason, the International Monetary Fund has discovered that they owe me 10.7 million dollars because of corrupt bank officials and courier companies, and I’ve also won 1.2 million dollars in the Australian Lottery. Fuck ME! I had no idea giving my email to complete strangers was gonna make me so goddamn LUCKY!!!! And just in time for my Vegas tip too!

Thank you PIZZA HUT!!! ❤ ❤ ❤ 

Had you and/or your employees not sold my email address to a bunch of sleazy fucknuts for a few bucks, I would not be the multi-millionaire I am today.

^Republica – Ready To Go^

You, are way behind me. Your quest to elevate yourself to an enlightened state is happening so far behind my own that I am lightyears ahead of you. I am knocking on God’s door, and you are so fucking lost that you are still unsure whether or not God even has a door. Hell, you’re so far behind me that you’re prolly still doubting there even is a God.

X: This is not where you were going.

Cade: Correct.

0: May I interject here? I sense danger, and for once I’d like to see the kid avoid trouble if possible.

Cade: I was going to put forth the notion that, in some things, we might actually be able to challenge this almighty entity many of us have grown up hearing about.

0: But…you got lost.

Cade: Correct. I had an idea, was gonna write it down, and in the 15 to 20 seconds it took for me to pull my tubby ass off the floor and open my word processor, the thought was gone.

0: Why do you think that is?

Cade: I really do not know. I didn’t sense danger. And I honestly sat there for a minute or so trying to get the feeling back, but it did not come.

0: Feeling?

Cade: Yes. Everything that I write is a feeling. Something in me…erm…feels, like, a certain way or something, and the words come.

0: But, you aren’t being totally honest here. You had a brief moment where you thought “this might not be such a good idea”, and you were unable to recall your thought.

Cade: Again, correct.

0: So what is this “challenge God” crap?

Cade: I really don’t know. It was an idea that maybe sometimes we are on a more or less equal footing with…”elevated fuckers”, or whatever…and I wanted to explore the idea of what we as individuals chose to do in those situations.

0: Do you really think it a good idea to point out such things?

Cade: I can take the high ground here and say “no”, but I don’t think that would be honest to the feeling that I had in my gut.

0: Which was?

Cade: Perhaps a bit on how to deal with success.

0: You aren’t very good with that.

Cade: Fuck no I ain’t. I have no idea what “success” even is beyond some social construct where outside opinion is required in order to justify a contextual something.

0: And shortly after any such proclamations, you’re right back to being a moron.

Cade: Exactly. Some…”poking my head above the clouds” type of moment occasionally exists within the fabric of space and time, these moments are rare, and fleeting.

X: You think that in these moments, you’ve challenged God, and won?

Cade: No. As far as I can tell, the idea is to challenge yourself and win. As to whether that victory somehow translates to God or others, I do not know.

X: And yet, you had an idea that led you to come here and write about the notion of “challenging God”, and now you’re talking about…whatever it is that you are talking about.

Cade: OK…then let’s wander back to where this idea sprang from.

0: Are you sure you want to do this.

Cade: No. But, I’m gonna do it anyway.

0: God be with you.

Cade: The original thought that got me to spinning was the idea of eliminating the concept of “human trafficking”.

0: You’ve temporarily fixed your broken headphones, you started to watch a documentary, but then you stopped watching it because you thought of a someone who might want to watch it with you.

Cade: Correct. I stopped, and someone in the documentary had just put forth the notion of “permanently eliminating human trafficking”.

0: Sounds like something good to aspire to.

Cade: God is the biggest human trafficker in history.

0: Uh oh…

Cade: You ain’t wrong. It’s a helluva thought to have, but after thinking on it for a moment, I can find no fault with the thought.

0: And so your idea was that you are basically “challenging God”?

Cade: No. My thought was that anyone who read my making the assertion that “God is the biggest human trafficker in history” would likely see me as challenging God. This had the knock-on effect of me starting to wonder if such thoughts in my own head are “a challenge to God”.

0: And you promptly sat up to start writing, then forgot what you were going to write.

Cade: Yes. BUT! See what just sitting down and writing a bit got me?

X: Why yes, I do.

Z: Concur.

A: Also.

Cade: lolz…look, I can see the thought being a bit…um, controversial or inflammatory or emotionally charged or whatever, but the point was, there was a dude in this film who suggested that we humans should endeavor to completely eliminate the concept of “human trafficking”, which on the surface sounds great and all, but it immediately became clear that in order to do so, there are metric shit tons of stuff that will need to be eliminated as a consequence.

0: And?

Cade: Well, I’m not going to go into all the details, but it immediately occurred to me that, if there is indeed “a” God, or if there are “gods”, anyone wanting to eliminate human trafficking is gonna find themselves toe-to-toe with these entities at some point.

X: And by default, will actually and eventually find themselves staring down “the” God?

Cade: Yes.

X: And the result would be?

Cade: No idea. I only know that, within the framework of “creation”, there appears to be a force that deals in human flesh/human lives, and for one to actually eliminate this “trafficking” would, perhaps, fuckup “Creation” as we know it.

X: And from there, your mind wandered.

Cade: Well, yeah. There’s all kinds of “futurist” types of considerations.

Z: Designer babies.

Cade: Yes, but in all honestly that concept is nothing new. People have been matchmaking in various modes since the beginning of time as far as I can tell. The only difference is maybe the means and a somewhat greater availability via technology and such.

A: And your feelings on these matters?

Cade: It comes down to the same shit as just about everything that I write.

A: Which is?

Cade: How many lines am I crossing, and am I in any way prepared to cross them.

X: You honestly think that “God” deals in flesh?

Cade: There are points in the Bible where God talks about intentionally making people stupid or blind or ignorant or hardening their hearts or whatever….I guess, in order for “God” to get what they want.

X: Your point?

Cade: I have to wonder sometimes if God makes me a moron for the express purpose of letting me blunder around in the dark.

Z: I admit I am a bit lost.

Cade: I know that is not true, but thank you for providing me a moment in which to meld these many ideas.

0: You are suggesting that God is a human trafficker…

Cade: Wait…for the sake of arguments, let’s make “God” and “Nature” somewhat interchangable.

X: Are you sure you want to do that?

Cade: Actually, no. It muddies the discussion something fierce. That said, it’s probably a fair approach seeing as how plenty of people seem to have no idea what to think about the concept of “God”.

T: Many have no idea what to think about the concept of “Nature” either.

Cade: Tru dat.

0: So you think that you have what is essentially a heretical and/or blasphemous type of thought, and you wonder if God is making you just stupid enough to ramble on about it anyway.

Cade: I think it highly possible that if there is some “higher” something actively working on my own life, that yes, they can potentially make me capable of being smart and stupid at the same time. And, fuck, they ain’t gotta do much at all to make me stupid.

0: And what about smart?

Cade: I’ll refer back to the original thought of typically needing some kind of outside influence to even have the slightest comprehension of what is typically billed as “success”. I’m successful at a lot of things that many if not most wouldn’t even bat an eye at because they aren’t things that are all flashy and make loads of people cream in their pants or swoon or whatever.

X: You’re thinking that “simulation theory” or “simulation hypothesis” is part of the posthumanist agenda.

Cade: It occurs to me that in order to eliminate “human trafficking”, there is a lot of average and boring shit that most “elevated folk” will almost certainly overlook, and all of this will also need to be tamed and then controlled.

X: And you think that the Posthumanists will think of these things?

Cade: Well, if they haven’t thought of it before, they’ll sure as shit be thinking about it now.

0: The Matrix has you Cade.

Cade: So it would seem.

0: And what was all that jazz about being ahead of others?

Cade: Just think that there has to be some property embedded within the concept of “ascension” where some, must, be left behind.

0: Doesn’t seem quite fair.

Cade: Fuck fair. I wasn’t thinking about “fair” as much as I was thinking more about how and why “elders” cannot relate to their own peers irrespective of where these peers may be in their own journey.

X: Get too big for for their own britches.

Cade: Maybe. Was just thinking that perhaps “relating” is so difficult because everyone is struggling so much to get those top tiers and become untouchable, that they forget from whence they came.

X: Interesting.

0: Do you?

Cade: Probably. I try not to, but I’m sure I fail miserably just like I fail at every other fucking thing.

X: Interesting.

0: …

^Kraftwerk – Die Roboter 1978 (1080p 50p)^

You may not have read all that. I would submit tho that yes indeedy, if one is going to endeavor to “end human trafficking”, it is likely that you are only thinking in terms of “evil”, and you’ve not thought this through. Hell, once you get to thinking in both good and evil terms, you’re then gonna have to stop thinking only in “human” terms, and that is gonna be so deep and overwhelming that you might just lose heart entirely.

Human tissue trafficking. Bacteria trafficking. Virus trafficking. Plant trafficking. Animal trafficking. Insect trafficking. Oil trafficking. CO2 trafficking. Mineral trafficking. Vitamin trafficking. *.* trafficking. Like it or not, your very existence causes you to stomp the living shit out of all kinds of things – you traffic in all kinds of things, and you likely don’t give these things a second thought, let alone think of yourself as a trafficker. However, if you’re gonna plumb these depths, you’re gonna have to give some of these things some thought. Or, you can just, half-ass it like most crusaders do. Take what you can get then pat yourself on the back for being all great and stuff.

Oh, and here's that documentary. 

Like I said, I didn’t get that far, and to be honest it looks more like hype and cheese than anything, but I’ll prolly give it a watch at some point. If for no other reason than to see where “the up and comers” are in their various journeys.

^A Glitch in the Matrix – Official Trailer^

Ya know, the big appeal of “The Matrix” is being in position to where the rules either do not apply to you, or you yourself can be in a position to bend or break the rules.

It's that simple. 

I get the feeling that someday, many folks are going to “wake up” and realize that all of the crap they were reaching for, they already had it. Already possessed the freedom to bend or even break any and every rule imaginable. It will be at this point that you’ll have to come clean with yourself and admit that what you were really looking for, was a realm where you could do as you please without fear of repercussion or reprisal. Welp, I got news for you…

these realms exist too. 

Very exclusive these realms tho. Very fragile too. And worst of all, they are almost certain to contain all the bullshit that you espouse to so vehemently oppose. Quite a loop. Cover a lot of ground, and go basically…

nowhere.
^Electro Swing Dance Freestyle: Spooky Scary Skeletons, Glenn Gatsby feat. Ashley Slater^

Do you even know what “swing” is? Of course you don’t. Who the fuck listens to swing anymore, let alone any music that either has swing in it or a swing to it.

^What is Swing? Swing Explained in 2 Minutes (Music Theory)^

Have often wondered about the nature of time, as it pertains to the times that are crammed in it. One of the most intriguing ideas is the notion of how time appears to run faster or slower under certain conditions. And by faster or slower, I’m referring to faster according to our own perception of “normal time”, or slower according to our own perception of “normal time”. Some examples would be when people have near-death or some other type of traumatic event, huge chunks of time can appear to run extremely fast, and we know that the further that one travels away from the Earth, the more time appears to slow down.

For me personally, all kinds of things are always running at strange times because of some “celestial events” that I use constantly as filters for my own thoughts. Big Bang, Big Crunch, Big Swirl, Pulsars, Novae, Black Holes, etc.. Over the past 10 years or so, I’ve also picked up some less relatable filters via thoughts about…erm…how do I word this…”entites who move through time differently than we do”. Basically, living beings of some kind that move through time and space faster or slower than we do. These thoughts can be quite scary when one thinks about contextual events such as “moving through space which contains a star, when operating in a realm where time moves thousands to millions faster or more slower according to the observer than time moves for us.”

I mean, can you imagine moving through a star when you’re only moving at 1 foot per year? Or 1 foot ever million years? Yeah, I know. There are questions there regarding things like mortality/immortality, but this does not invalidate the thoughts on speed if for no other reason than we humans have little to no understanding about either concept, and plenty of folks in our own human history who seem to think that at least some part of our own mortal being carries some immortal something within it. And of course, there’s that pesky “energy can neither be created nor destroyed” conservation of energy thing.

All that said, where I was really going with this is some thoughts that I’ve had regarding “The Big Bang” and the idea that it wasn’t just some singular something as it is usually portrayed in all those science shows with their fancy explosions. Namely my thoughts have been, it happened, it is still happening right now, and it will continue to happen. It is with that thought I’ve wondered…wait, what if a star is actually an exploding something that is running at a different time than we perceive time? Stars supposedly collect a bunch of crap that is floating around via some unknown process(es), then they eventually get so dense that some chain reaction starts via some critical mass, then all that shit catches on fire and starts burning. Welp, from there, our understanding is that the star starts expanding as it gives off energy and starts losing its mass, and a star will continue expanding, growing larger and larger throughout its “life”.

Sounds like an explosion to me. 

Perhaps a really fucking slow explosion, but an explosion nonetheless. Eventually, this “slow-ass explosion” will eventually speed up to speeds that we more readily understand when the thing goes nova or supernova. But until that time, I mean, the entire mass of the Universe is pressing down on this star, right? The entire mass of the Universe is basically containing this explosion. So, why would this “explosion” run at the same time as everything else?

^Underwater Submarine Explosion in Slow Mo – The Slow Mo Guys^

I’ve watched plenty of videos of the Slow Mo Guys and others blowing shit up underwater, and every time they do this, I’ve seen that little “star” or “Big Bang” representation in these detonations. However, for some reason that video above and that first pop Gav does really demonstrates these thoughts that I’ve had about time running slower (or faster) under certain conditions. Perhaps it’s the proximity of an object nearby, or maybe I’ve watched so damn many of these things that I was finally able to express in words what I’ve been seeing for so long. I’m not an educated fella so, I don’t really possess the vocabulary to express things the way some actual scientist might. And that’s by design because if I learn their language, I’m gonna just wind up talking like they do and saying the same shit they do and that ain’t gonna help anyone. Gotta find my own way. Or die trying.

Prolly gonna be that second one.
^[Electro Swing Remix] A Friend Like Me^

That shit always has a bend to it. And no matter what it is, if it’s not bending now, or it hasn’t bent in the past, you can bet your ass it is gonna bend at some point. Has to be some property embedded within even the most linear of somethings that, causes it to bend. Maybe even break. Maybe even break before the “bend” property can be realized or maybe even before it can be recognized as a bend.

Q: Can a “bend” property exist within a system, yet never be identifiable as such?

A: ? /?\ ?

Gotta be possible. You have no interest in this. It’s all “Big Swirl” crap and “The Big Swirl” isn’t even a real thing so, I’ll bail.

^”SING, SING, SING” BY BENNY GOODMAN^

cYacFa

^James Randi’s fiery takedown of psychic fraud^

*******

*For the Song? …/stubs butt.. That’s an idea, Clicky…*

I don’t know about you, but I feel refreshed now, and ready to get back down to writing. Thank you Cade ❤

See you next time, Dear Reader, and… Have a Song ❤

Extended CLICK5… CLICKB8: Writing A Story For Underdog Anthology XV…

Adventures in Remote Viewing: Animal Fam

Dear Reader, I have been reading Animal Farm by George Orwell, as part of the newly formed Gloom Dog Book club…

*Poppy Sweet Pea set the club up at UBU, Clicky… /lights up and smokes… I knew the story but never actually got round to reading the book… /flicks ash… Until yesterday…*

*Oh, it’s a great book choice to start with considering current political climes, Clicky…*

There’s a paragraph early on in the story that grabbed my attention because it synced with a conversation that I had with Cade Fon Apollyon on Friday evening, regarding: the 1966 movie Arabesque starring Gregory Peck and Sophia Loren; some randomly posted bible verse in the comments of a YouTube video of disco song that was a hit in Japan in 1977; and an unexpected  stream of swan, monkey, lion and elephant appearances to cross my path that day…

*Yeah I know. It’s a bit whacky, butt bear with me and I’ll try to explain…*

First things first, here is the paragraph from Animal Farm that grabbed my attention:

‘Napoleon took no interest in Snowball’s committees. He said that the education of the young was more important than anything that could be done for those who were already grown up. It happened that Jessie and Bluebell had both whelped soon after the hay harvest, giving birth between them to nine sturdy puppies. As soon as they were weaned, Napoleon took them away from their mothers, saying that he would make himself responsible for their education. He took them up into a loft which could only be reached by a ladder from the harness-room, and there kept them in such seclusion that the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.’

*Okay I’m getting to it… /drags… Get arabesque to show, Dear Reader, Clicky…*

*No, the movie… /rolls eyes…*

*An outbreak of flu is used as an excuse in the opening scene and the missing cipher hidden in a sweetie wrapper, labelled 9…*

*The title of Wes’ talk is meant to be sarcastic. Actually a ‘pollock’ is also a fish… /thinks… Wait, this is syncing with the ‘lost joke’ in your recent post, Clicky…*

*Vans with ‘Cubitts’ on the side were very prominent in the movie… /drags…*

*Weird fucking movie, Clicky. Enjoyable but weird… /streams smoke… To think, we only watched it ‘cos of a Twitter convo Cade had with @monkeynutshell shortly beforehand…*

*/flicks ash… A trio from Frankfurt…*

*Some elephant tweets had crossed my twitterfeed that day…*

*Menemosyne is an aspect of the Planetary Animal Mother, Sophia, according to Gnostic teacher John Lamb Lash… /final drag… Goddess of Memory and mother of the 9 Muses…*

*An elephant would be an excellent witness to a crime, Clicky… /stubs butt…*

*Wes’ latest vid… /grins… Talk about the elephant in the room…*

Okay, I’m gonna have to assume, Dear Reader, that you followed the conversation above and employed your Clicky when cued, to perceive the synchronicities that I experienced…

… So, let’s go back to the paragraph from Animal Farm that grabbed my attention…

Nose of a Lion took no interest in Snowball’s committees. He said that the education of the young was more important than anything that could be done for those who were already grown up. It happened that Jessie and Bluebell had both whelped soon after the hay harvest, giving birth between them to nine sturdy puppies. As soon as they were weaned, Napoleon took them away from their mothers, saying that he would make himself responsible for their education. He took them up into a loft which could only be reached by a ladder from the harness-room, and there kept them in such seclusion that the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.’

*Sorry for the spoiler, Clicky, butt those 9 puppies became Napoleon’s attack dogs, enforcing his rule over Animal Farm…*

*Yeah, it’s a lot to take in, Clicky…*

I’ve nearly finished reading Animal Farm, Dear Reader. It’s funny, George Orwell prefaced the story with ‘A Fairy-tale’, a pejorative term used to describe myths…

… Have a Song, Dear Reader… 😉

Story Time: Walk I, With You

At last! Dear Reader, Underdog Anthology XIV: The Dark Ides of March has finally been published and is now available for purchase…

*Wrong book, Clicky, although finking about it… /lights up and smokes… I did write my anthology story over the Easter weekend…*

After writing ‘What Time Do You Finish?’ and following that up with ‘Christmas Death Wish’, I’d decided I would write a third installment in what is turning out to be a ‘Ronageddon’ series. If you haven’t read those stories yet, Dear Reader, please avail yourself of the links, below…

Synchronicity provided me with the title of the story you are about to read. That and Cade Fon Apollyon: I’d been mulling over story ideas for weeks, wracking my brains for an angle, when I hit upon an idea. I was very excited and headed straight to Twitter DMs to tell my best bud, but what I saw when I arrived was a poem, waiting. One that Cade had just written for me…

*/flicks ash… And on mum’s birthday too…*

Anyway, Dear Reader, I hope you enjoy ‘Walk I, With You’. See you at the bottom of the post for a Song 😉

*******

Walk I, With You

By Roo B. Doo

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking umpteen…

God paused at the end of the first sentence on the first page of the battered book in her hand.

Umpteen?

Disconcerted yet curious, God checked the cover of the book to make sure that the title and author’s name were correct before continuing to read on.

The Grim Reaper, skull nuzzled deep within the cowl of his robe, silently glided up to the bench closest to the duck pond in Victory Park. The ‘Do Not Use’ warning tape adorning it had deterred everyone from sitting there, but not Death. The Grim Reaper climbed up onto the bench and waited.

On a tree nearby, a coloured poster, too large for the display, had been tacked up. It simply depicted an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a middle-aged man, with tousled, blond hair, baggy eyes and jowly jawline. It was one of those pictures which are designed so that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BRO IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.

God snapped the book shut and sighed.

I knew it! Somebody is monkeying about with Nineteen-Eighty-Four. Again!

She called for the fat, smug goose who administered the comings and going in the vast area known as the God Lobby.

Come with me, Brian. We need to make a site visit.

***

Spring was in the air and Victory Park was packed with people exercising in the pale April sunshine. Despite the brightness, the air remained frosty cool from both the transition of the seasons and the earliness of the hour. Death sat on a bench close to the duck pond and watched the hordes walking, running and star jumping in socially distanced formation. All their faces were dutifully masked.

Why are they torturing themselves? Death wondered as he watched a stream of hot breath pour through the sweaty face-mask of a passing jogger. They may as well be carrying a bundle of posies in front of their faces for all the protection those things give. Ah, the Black Death. Now that was a proper pandemic.

Death pulled a slim, black rectangle from the depths of his robe and flipped open the cover to reveal a bright, smooth screen decorated with coloured icons. Following the disastrous crash of the Cosmic Consciousness Neural Net (CCNN) that occurred on Halloween in 2020, God had resolved that an upgrade in tech was very much required, and the PsiPad was born. The Psion organiser, which had been gainfully employed by the Grim Reaper Service up until that point, was finally relegated to the Scrapheap of Obsolescence. There it languished alone; the hourglass having escaped the same fate by presciently forging a long-standing relationship with eggs.

Tapping the screen of the PsiPad with a bony digit, Death opened the PsiCalendar and studied his schedule for the day. He had arrived a little early for his next appointment but didn’t mind waiting. Having existed throughout all of time, Death was not opposed to occasionally killing the bastard.

Bing!

A message flashed up on the screen which simply read ‘Molly’, and although the Grim Reaper shouldn’t be able to feel anything, Death experienced a sense of apprehension and anticipation prickle his bones.

Molly Darling was the pure soul child, whose poorly spelled letter to Santa had inadvertently instigated Armageddon and had caused Death nothing but trouble. Her letter, and her sincere Christmas wish contained within it, to end war, famine and pollution for the benefit of mankind, had fallen into the hands of Satan, and Old Scratch never wasted an opportunity for some devilment. Whether or not he’d had a hand in the CCNN crash that occurred at the same time was as yet unknown. Investigations into the matter were said to be ongoing.

On the whole, Death was against the making and granting of wishes of any kind; however, he’d been manoeuvred into making a wish of his own, with Molly as the beneficiary. He’d been presented with a choice; God always provides a choice: the removal of Molly Darling from life before she could send her letter, thus averting the end of the world, or rectify the matter in some other way. Death’s ethics forbade him from taking the first course of action, so he had plumped for some other way. Death’s wish had been granted by Father Christmas and subsequently Molly Darling had been born with the innate ability to correctly spell.

And that should have been the end of the matter, but for the unintended consequence rider that accompanies every wish granted, one that practically no one considers when making one. In this case, the very act of wishing had inextricably linked Molly to Death and attracted deaths to Molly.

Death scrolled back through the years on the PsiCalendar, counting the number of ‘Molly alerts’ that littered them. By definition, Death was only concerned with the dead, paying scant attention to the living around them. Now, courtesy of the newly issued bit of tremendous tech under his distal phalanges, Death was aware of just how many times his path and Molly’s had crossed during her short life so far. It was sporadic but not inconsiderable.

He found the date of the first Molly alert: 1st January 2013; the day Molly Darling was born. She had arrived in the early hours of the morning as Death was transitioning the soul of one Barry Munroe, a poor unfortunate struck by a speeding taxi, following a night of heavy drinking in celebration of the birth of the new year. The speeding taxi had been delivering a screaming woman to hospital, who was making a rapid delivery of her own on the back seat of the cab.

Death had given no consideration to the wailing bundle of new life at the time – why should he? – but in hindsight, the significance of Molly’s place of birth was not lost on Death, as it was in the back of a taxi on Halloween in 2020 that the savage deletion from existence of his good friends, War, Famine and Pestilence had occurred and Armageddon began. Death had changed Molly’s past to affect mankind’s future, yet he still retained the memory of that terrible night. For Death, Halloween 2020, both with and without that fateful taxi ride, existed at the same time, and within the same space.

It’s like Schrödinger’s Cab, Death mused deeply.

The PsiPad had also revealed to Death what lay behind a strange incident that coincided with one of the Molly Alerts, an incident that had baffled him until now. On 16th July 2016, Death had sat on this same bench, watching swaths of people roam across Victory Park. The insufferably hot weather had done little to deter the excited crowd from hunting virtual monsters augmented with their reality; it was the latest fashion. Instead of face-masks, mobile phones and electronic devices of all kinds covered peoples’ faces, which now caused Death to ponder upon the origin of the phrase ‘Track and Trace’.

On that day, Death had been awaiting the arrival of one Davy Keith, an otherwise healthy lad of 14, except for the undiagnosed hole in his heart and an all-consuming passion for collecting simulated Japanese monsters. Death watched passively as a pudgy toddler rushed along the path toward the bench upon which he sat, a tired looking woman pushing a stroller followed in the child’s wake. The little girl had all the grace of a drunken sailor and Death had assumed her wide milk-tooth grin and incoherent babble was aimed at the sun blazing high in the sky above Death’s head. That was until she tried to hug him.

A thought which had occurred to Death in that moment, on that day had haunted him ever since. Am I a monster?

Now Death knew that child had been Molly Darling and she had seen him. Following the aborted hug, and before her mother had whisked her away, Molly’s hand gestures had been her attempt to communicate with him: ‘Hello. My name is M-O-L-L-Y. I am deaf.’

It’s augmented reality, alright, Death decided with a sigh. He closed the cover on the PsiPad and returned it to the folds of his robe. Not long to wait now.

***

“Keep it up squad. Pump those arms,” the long-legged woman barked, as she strode purposefully among the regimented lines of exercisers performing push-ups beneath her gaze. She was a colossus of female physical perfection: full, round breasts, a washboard stomach and thighs so muscular they looked capable of pulverizing anyone’s head fortunate enough to be caught between them.

Lockdown had been very good for Wanda Warren. Before the arrival of the Rona and the restrictions that ensued, she’d struggled to attract many clients to her fledgling business: Fighting Fit. Whilst it was true that the small number of clients she did have were dedicated to not only her tough methods but also to Wanda herself, she was only a one woman band and the indoor gym in town, with its flashy machines, coffee shop and showers, had attracted many more members.

Now the gym was closed due to the Rona and the only place to exercise was outside. Competitive advantage had shifted firmly in Wanda’s favour, and Fighting Fit scooped up a substantial amount of new devotees. All males desperate to retain their fitness, blow off the excess energy built up from their now enforced sedentary lifestyle, and the outside possibility of being crushed between Wanda Warren’s dangerous thighs.

She caught sight of a familiar figure across the park. “And once you reach a hundred, give me one full circuit of the park. Now move it!” she ordered, before sprinting off in the direction of the duck pond.

“Death?”

“War,” the Grim Reaper replied.

Wanda pulled down her face-mask and sprawled on the bench next to Death. The difference in stature between the two cardinal colleagues was stark: whereas War was long and rangy, the diminutive Grim Reaper was small enough to reach into all the nooks and crannies.

War smiled radiantly. “I thought it was you.”

“I see you’re building up quite an army, dear lady.”

“Pfft. Early days yet.” War punched Death on the arm. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since…” Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the last time they’d met.

Death turned to his beautiful colleague: in ancient Troy her face had launched a thousand ships; today it could launch a thousand more, all armed to the teeth with nuclear weapons. The last time he’d seen War, however, she’d been ripping Famine and Pestilence apart with carnal ferocity in the back of a London black taxi being driven by Old Scratch. “I am here waiting.”

“Oh, right. Not for any of my lot, I hope,” War inquired hesitantly.

“Possibly.” Death produced the PsiPad from his robes.

“Ooh nice kit. You got an upgrade?” War snatched the PsiPad from Death, opened the PsiCalendar and read the name of Death’s next appointment. “Really? No way!”

Death pulled the PsiPad from War’s grasp. “Yes and very much way.”

War stretched her arms out along the back of the bench and flicked at a stray end of warning tape. “Pesto’s played a fucking blinder with this Rona business, eh? It’s done my little enterprise no end of good.”

Death remained silent; he was far from convinced that Pestilence had any involvement in the disease that had swept the world in the last year. He’d certainly had to deal with a rise in suicidees and murder victims, but pretty much all the usual causes of death had remained relatively stable. Certainly all the deaths solely attributed to the Rona were vanishingly small. “Have you seen Pesto recently?”

“Not since…” Once again War’s furrowed her brow.

“How about Famine?” Death asked.

“AWOL,” War snorted. “Fuck knows where he is. Have you seen how fat these cunts are?”

“Good for business.”

“Indeed, business is booming.”

War stood up and pulled her face-mask back up over the cruel smirk that marred her lips; the first of the Fighting Fit squad would be coming through soon, and as their leader, it was imperative that Wanda uphold standards for the group. “I tell ya, the buggers love being told what to do. And the harsher you are, the more they fucking love it.”

“Until pushed too far.”

“I know! Brilliant, isn’t it? A win-win,” War laughed, briefly lowering her mask to suck air noisily up her quivering nostrils. “Can you smell the resentment and aggression simmering, Death? Itsa gonna be a spicy meat ball!”

“Lacking an olfactory system, War, I am unable to concur with your assessment,” Death replied drily. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

“Ha ha. You do that, short arse,” she smirked, affixing her mask back into place.

Wanda turned her attention to the first of her squad to appear, smacking his backside as he ran by. “Attaboy, Malc. Only a mile to go.” As each member passed they received the same backside slap from Wanda, but her words of encouragement changed with her assessment of their individual performance.

The last straggler stopped and stooped over with hands on knees, gasping for breath.

“What’s up, Jimbo? Don’t you have the heart for it today?” Wanda stood over the bent back of James ‘Jimbo’ Collins and gave Death a double thumbs up sign. “Here, have a sit down, old fella. Take five and then catch up with us once you get your breath back.”

She steered Jimbo toward the bench. Despite his apparent distress, he still managed to give her righteous backside a firm squeeze. Wanda rolled her eyes at Death and saluted before sprinting away to catch up with the rest of her Fighting Fit squad and finish the circuit of Victory Park.

Death ignored Jimbo’s ragged breathing and continued to wait.

***

Jocasta Darling luxuriated in the bright spring sunshine that came as a welcome relief after the unmitigated gloom of winter and lockdown. Not that Jocasta thought lockdown would be ending any time soon, not if the government’s broken promises over the past year were anything to go by. Still it was nice to get out for a walk, and despite the cold, the sunshine was glorious and lifted Jocasta’s spirits for the first time since the start of the year.

Her daughter Molly skipped alongside, occasionally pausing to smell the newly budding flowers or point out the birds traversing the powder blue sky. The pair made their way toward the pond at the heart of Victory Park, where Molly liked to serve breakfast to the ducks each morning. Jocasta just liked to see her daughter happy. Molly had been in and out of hospital since birth with one thing or another, and it broke Jocasta’s heart at what Molly had had to endure. And now her schooling had been disrupted, all because of the Rona, which appeared to ignore kids like a bad parent. Jocasta often wondered just exactly where the blessed government’s priorities actually lay.

Although the park was busy with exercisers, the pond area looked to be empty to Jocasta, except for a jogger sitting slumped over on a bench. As they drew closer, Molly eagerly grabbed the plastic bag from her mother’s hands and pulled out a crust of bread.

“Okay be careful. Don’t fall in,” Jocasta instructed her daughter.

Molly beamed at her mother, flashing an ‘OK’ sign, and made her way to the shady side of the pond where the ducks and swans were congregated, all the while ripping the crust into smaller, bite-sized pieces.

Jocasta wasn’t sure what the government’s guidelines were this week on the usefulness of benches, but this one was still clearly marked as out of bounds. She wondered if she should go and say something to the jogger: it really didn’t pay to attract the attentions of the Rona marshals that now patrolled the park. Even the slightest infraction was pounced upon, and she herself had been lectured several times on the essential need to wear a face-mask, despite both she and Molly holding medical exemptions due to her daughter’s deafness. At her age, Jocasta was finding it hard enough to master a new language, without being hampered by half of it being obscured by face coverings; sign language was so much more than just hand signs. But try telling that to the oiks in uniforms with quotas to fill. At least Jocasta assumed the marshals had quotas to fill; everything today appeared to be run on targets, quotas and guidelines.

Jocasta approached the bench. “Excuse me. Do you know if it’s okay to sit here?”

The jogger looked up at her, giving Jocasta a fixed stare whilst the fabric of his face-mask ballooned in and out with every whooping breath. “What?”

He thinks I’m a Karen, Jocasta thought, shocked at the aggression in his eyes. “No, I’m asking if you know whether we’re permitted to sit on the bench yet. It’s still taped off,” Jocasta explained. “I’d love a sit down too if it’s allowed.”

“Oh… I see,” the jogger replied, as he attempted to control his breathing. “Yes… yes, I think so… since the start of the week… I’m sure of it.”

Jocasta smiled at the jogger; her smile was as bright as the morning but much warmer. “That is good news. I wonder why the council haven’t removed the tape yet.”

“They’ll get… around to it… eventually.”

Still, the forbidding tape unnerved Jocasta and she hesitated to sit down. “I’m with my daughter Molly. She’s over there feeding the ducks.”

The jogger nodded without removing his gaze from the floor, as he focused on this laboured breathing.

“Are you feeling alright?” Jocasta asked anxiously.

“Fine… thank you,” the jogger replied. “Over-exertion… I’ll be okay…”

Jocasta didn’t think the man looked okay at all. Apart from his breathing, he was sweating profusely and massaging his left arm. From what she could see of his face and neck, the jogger was coloured puce, and Jocasta was certain that wasn’t a good sign for a man his age. “You know it might help if you remove your mask,” she tentatively suggested.

The jogger gave Jocasta another fixed stare, but the aggression had gone from his eyes. He reached up with his right hand and unhooked the mask from his ears. “Yes, you’re probably right,” he said, sucking in a great gulp of air.

Jocasta recognised her local MP immediately but didn’t acknowledge that she knew who James Collins was. Although she had never once voted for him, he’d been her representative in Parliament for what seemed like forever. He’d also been very vocal on the importance of lockdowns, mask-wearing and, now, mandatory vaccinations. That was something else Jocasta disagreed with him over, but if James Collins was using the bench, then she felt sure it was okay for her to use it too.

Jocasta felt an icy blast at her back as she lowered herself onto the bench seat, at the farthest end from where her Member of Parliament sat. “Gosh, that feels very cold,” she said with a shiver. She felt the cold settle into her but, strangely, it did not feel unpleasant.

Fishing into her handbag, she pulled out a covered ashtray, which she placed on the arm rest of the bench, before lighting a cigarette. She dragged deeply and let out a satisfying whoosh of smoke, blowing it in the direction away from the bench. Jocasta had really missed not being able to sit down and smoke outside, and felt particularly aggrieved at the ban on sitting in public. For the longest time, outside had been the only place the public were allowed to smoke, and now she was expected to stand up to do it.

“I say… Could you put that out?” James Collins asked gruffly and gripped his left arm tighter. “Having trouble breathing… here.”

The sudden icy blast Jocasta had felt at sitting down now migrated to her eyes. She turned both barrels on her MP.

“No,” she stated, flatly.

“That’s… not very courteous…”

Jocasta took another puff of her cigarette and tapped the loose ash into the the ashtray. Again, she blew the smoke away from the bench. “We are appropriately socially distanced, are we not? I am not blowing smoke in your direction and there is no law against smoking outside.”

James Collins started coughing and waving his hand limply in front of his nose. Fat droplets of sweat poured from his grimacing face. “Can’t you see I’m… in trouble?”

“Yes you are.” Jocasta wasn’t sure what had come over her, but she felt very certain that the words coming out of her mouth were being said with the confidence of another’s voice. “You, James Collins MP, are a sell out. Not only are you a liar, a lecher and a rubber-stamp for oppression, but you’ve caused dis-ease, and I am sorry to tell you, but you will be going to hell.”

Jocasta looked over at Molly busily feeding the noisy ducks and waved. Molly waved back, tilting her head to one side with a curious look on her face. ‘Having fun?’ Jocasta signed to her daughter.

Molly nodded vigorously and signed back, ‘There’s a goose and he’s eating all the bread. Come and see.’

Jocasta chipped the end of her cigarette off in the ashtray and returned both to her handbag. She stood up, squared her shoulders, giving her MP a final withering stare. “Good-bye.”

She walked away, back along to the path to join Molly, leaving James Collins with a look of abject terror on this face.

Bing!

“Hello, Jimbo,” Death said, pulling the PsiPad from the folds of his robe.

***

“So this is Hell?” Jimbo Collins asked, as Death guided him into the vaulted expanse of the God Lobby and placed him at the end of a queue of souls. Like Jimbo, they were all dressed in white and wore face-masks. “Looks like Heaven to me.”

“For some it is both,” Death replied. “Just follow the white line. You’ll get there eventually.”

The queue shuffled forwards, taking Jimbo along with it.

Death took the express elevator up to the Office. From there he could look across the vastness of the God Lobby, and see just how long the queue he’d placed Jimbo Collins in was. It snaked back and forth, up and down and crossed itself in numerous places.

Looks like a commercial for toilet paper, does it not, Big D? All that’s missing is a great, big, playful puppy.

Death turned to the voice of God whispering over his shoulder and bowed. “It’s certainly the most appropriate place to deposit little shits, Ma’am.”

God tittered; she did appreciate Death’s sense of humour.

“I take it you were there,” Death said.

How did you know?

“Molly’s ‘Come and see’ was a dead giveaway. That and Brian’s disguise. He put no effort into it at all.”

On the reception desk Brian, who was forever eavesdropping, ruffled his feathers and hissed.

Yes, we were there. The situation looks grim.

“Indeed it does.”

God moved away from the balcony overlooking the God Lobby. Death glided along behind at a respectful distance.

“Ma’am, I’m worried about the disappearance of Famine and Pestilence. I can’t find any trace of them since…”

Halloween? Yes, it is concerning.

“War’s nose is never wrong. Without Famine and Pesto to provide balance, I fear for the future of humanity.”

Then you must find them, Big D.

“Me?” Death felt a sense of déjà vu; he’d been in this position before.

Of course. You find everyone. Eventually.

God smiled at Death and her smile was a bright as an April morning.

*******

*You fink I should feature Famine in the next one, Clicky? …/stubs butt… Maybe…*

So, please do consider buying a copy of Underdog Anthology XIV. It has 13 top notch stories and 2 poems to delight and terrify you…

Have a Song, Dear Reader… ❤

CLICK5: Jolly Hockney Sticks

CLICK5: Quoth The Raven…

Underdog Anthology XIV COMING SOONClick for a Song 😉

Missive From ‘Merica: Sin Growl Nicety

Good news, Dear Reader 😀 I have finally, finally finished and submitted my story for Underdog Anthology XIV…

*Something like that, Clicky…*

… I still have to find a dead poet’s poem to mutilate for the Afterword, but Leggy is hoping to publish the new volume in the next week or so, and I will then post ‘Walk I, With You’ for you here at the LoL…

*Yeah, I used an image from the story for that tweet…*

…Right now, however, we have a new missive from Cade Fon Apollyon, the Okie Text Us Devil, on the subject of synchronicity/synchromysticism. If you have any interest in the subject whatsoever, it’s not to be missed. And even if you don’t, it’s a bloody good read anyway.

Scroll on, Dear Reader, scroll on…

… And enjoy! ❤

*******

Captain….CAPTAIN, Jack Sparrow.

- - -
EASE TUR

EAST TUR

EAST HER

E-STIR E-STIR E-STIR

| · |

H Y

APP

EASTER

·| · |·

RETSAE

PPA

Y H

| · |

- - -

Did you know that, according to Google Translate, “tur” is German for “door”?

Did you know that “TUR” is the NASDAQ ticker for some fund based on Turkish equities?

Welp...now you know.

Open some doors.

Be free.

Mingle.

^KONTRUST – Dance (Official Video) | Napalm Records^

A holy crusade should be started. A holy crusade to eliminate all evildoers on the entire planet. That way, when all evildoers are dead, only the good will remain. So, if I survive these purges, that means I too, am good.

Right?

Well, there will still be murderers left because the good who killed all the bad are still alive. And I guess there will still be thieves because the murderers took something that did not belong to them. And there will be liars because all of this murder and theft was predicated upon there being no more evildoers left in the world.

We're right back to where we started.

Hrm… maybe it would be best to skip all those shenanigans and just leave things more or less as they are?

^The Living Deads – Everything is Broke (But Our Love) Official Music Video^

This time a year ago (April 2020/when the lockdown started) oil dropped to $11.26 per bbl and gasoline prices fell through the floor. Now, it’s back up to over $60 per bbl, and it’s being projected that by summer/fall of 2021, oil will be up to around $80 per bbl. Oil hasn’t been over $80 per bbl since October of 2014.

WTI Crude Oil Prices – 10 Year Daily Chart

Goldman Sach expects crude oil to hit $80 this summer despite price pullback

Banks stand firm on calls for oil ‘supercycle’ even as price drops

Hrm…relying on nCoV-2019 vaccinations, to rally demand for oil. I wonder what other types of things those in the market are relying upon nCoV-2019 vaccinations to rally. Further have to wonder if people aren’t getting vaccinated, does that mean the rallies aren’t gonna happen? I wonder if rich people/powerful people get rowdy when they want they want a rally to happen, but it doesn’t. Do they riot, and if so, how and where do they riot/tear shit up?

^CHEECH AND CHONG- MEXICAN AMERICANS *HQ*^

The concept of teaching Synchronicity is an interesting one. Teach people how to recognize and observe the phenomena. My experience has been that Synchronicity cannot be taught. If you start pointing weird shit out, people are initially going to query you as to how you saw such a small and insignificant event. Over time, they will start to look at you really fucking strangely.

Even suspiciously. 

They may go so far as to accuse you of being the engine that is driving this phenomenon because it only seems to happen when you are around. Or at least, you are the only one that seems to be able to see this stuff, no one else seems to catch it, although yes, once you point it out, they see it too. Maybe at this point it’s important to point out that “seeing” (to me anyway) is one of the more overrated parts of the experience. It may sometimes be a smell, or a sound, or a feeling, or even an aggregate of sensory input that generates a deja vu type of vibe, except with synchronicities the feeling is more like you’re experiencing something that has already happened in the future rather than re-experiencing a something that has happened in the past.

I’m getting off-track…lemme get back on topic. It is likely possible to teach one to recognize Synchronicity, but I’d think an interest on the part of the learner is gonna be necessary.

^[mau5trap exclusive premiere]: i_o – LOW^

Seriously…who in the hell wants to be an observer?

A: Fucking no one.

You don’t wanna be in the stands, you wanna be on the field, be in the game. You wanna be making things happen, not be at the whims of chance and just standing their helpless as events unfold because of those who are actually participating and driving things.

Glory. Glory!!! BUCKETLOADS OF GLORY!!!

You want it. You want them. 

This is really just me vocalizing my ineptitude at figuring out how one teaches another to be a good observer. How to develop your communication skills so as to be able to be accurate in expressing yourself and relating events to 3rd parties. But to be honest, when it comes to synchronicity, anyone who seeks you out for help is likely to already be either a novice or perhaps even intermediate due to the nature of synchronicity. You were just minding your business one day, and suddenly, the Universe grabbed you by the nape of the neck and chunked your sorry ass into the deep end, and that was the first and last time you could ever be qualified as a “beginner”. Its all uphill from there, and chances are you possess tools you didn’t even know you had before this journey even started.

It is with all that in mind that I reiterate…the concept of teaching Synchronicity is an interesting one. Maybe its not about teaching as much as it is about learning. Maybe even sharing. Maybe there’s an equality type of trait nested within where the teacher and student hats are always and forever interchangeable. There are no masters, there is only mastery.

Some people are probably gonna REALLY dislike such a concept.

No room for advancement.

No way to become a name.

No way to become a face.

^Ace of Spades (Official Music Video) – Hayseed Dixie^

What does your face look like anyway?

DATABASE FOR HUMAN TRAINING a glimpse into the databases used by artificial intelligence-Animated Gifs

Hey…you’ve always wanted to get to know people. That must also mean you want people to get to know you. Welp, they are. Problem is, there may not be a whole lotta reciprocation going on.

They, know you. You, are not them.
^Vince Gill & Jerry Douglas – Oklahoma Borderline (Live 2004) (Promo Only)^

You may have to suspend disbelief if you listen to this next song.

Just hang in there...you will reach the “wtf?!?” part soon enough.
^JINJER – Pisces (Live Session) | Napalm Records^

SO! For those who journeyed into that video, and stuck with it long enough to reach the “wtf?!?” moment, lets us see some of the more or less boring mechanics of how some sweet little soft-spoken pixie learns to summon and master the dark vocal forces of hell.

Is that misogynist of me? Sexist? Referring to a person who I do not know nor have any sort of relationship with as “a sweet little soft-spoken pixie”? To be fair, she was/is singing to me. Or at me.

/shrug
^’How To Growl’ Basics: 3 Safe Ways To Learn False Cord Technique^

Prolly not that much different than anything else. You want to learn to do something, you see how others do it, then you practice, practice, practice.

I admit that when I watched that Jinjer/Pisces video, I did not believe what I was hearing. The video is supposedly live, but if you are as old as I am and have been around the musical block a few times, you learn that a “live” recording is…well, not necessarily as “live” as they say it is. Most of the time a “live” recording has been sent back to the engineers for cleanup, and many of the nuances of a live performance have been removed. Also need to point out that electronic vocal processing has reached the point to where there is virtually nothing that one cannot do digitally. So I had to ask myself…

”Wait, let’s say that they are heaping a shitload of vocal processing on her voice in order to make her sound like a man. Is that really any different than some pop diva using autotune, so that she never hits any sour notes? Or even putting a reverb or delay or EQ or compression or some other effect on a more or less clean voice?”

I used to sometimes run my own voice straight into a distortion pedal to get my voice to sound like I wanted. Yep, plugged the microphone directly into a distortion pedal made for guitar. Lolz (true story) Screaming is hard on the voice. Talk to any USMC drill instructor, and chances are their voice sounds like rocks in a woodchipper from all of that screaming.

With all this in mind, I went back and watched the Jinjer/Pisces video again, and I watched nothing but her lips and her throat, and tried to keep her posture in my periphery so I could see what her diaphragm was doing. I also tried to listen for any hints of more or less “female” sounding tones embedded within the signal I was hearing. I heard some. Also, the video angles and cuts are as such that it is damn rough to look for those tiny accentuations in the face and neck which reveal connections to certain tones. I still doubt as to whether she is actually producing these sounds.

So let’s do this…lets see if we can find a something where they are live live…like on-stage live at a concert, and see if it still looks disconnected.

^JINJER – Pisces (Live at Wacken Open Air 2019) | Napalm Records^

FUCK!!! She’s now got a goddamn huge neck tattoo obscuring everything!!!

Hrm. 

That certainly doesn’t help seeing whether or not veins are popping out in her neck, nor does it make it easy to see what the larynx is doing. So now I have to go back and listen to both the studio live and concert live versions, bounce back and forth and see just how similar the screamed/growled parts are. They do sound similar, but not in a Milli Vanilli/lipsyncing kind of way as much of a “how does the vocal tones of the live studio version sound so damn close to the on-stage live version?” kind of way. Are we learning to learn how to learn about strange coincidences yet?

Fuck this…let,s get the straight dope right out of the growler’s mouth.

^How Jinjer’s Tatiana Shmayluk Learned to Scream^

Formed a new band last week.

Avant Garde Fart Cracklings

Our first album “Crispy Burnt Leftovers In The Bottom Of The Pan” should drop soon. Which reminds me…

if Sulfur smelled like apple blossoms, would farts be more popular?
^Stevie Ray Vaughan – Texas Flood (from Live at the El Mocambo)^

Do you prefer to know the secret behind the magician’s tricks, or are you just here for the magic? Or both?

It is nice to be able to control others. Especially to control the magician.

^Lonnie Mack – Wham! (1963)^

The fog days of summer are rapidly approaching.

Frog days of summer...that is.

Pawg days.

Smog days.

Gog days.

Dog days.

^Lightnin’ Hopkins – It’s A Sin To Be Rich, It’s A Low-Down Shame To Be Poor^

Ever since this “Q” or “QAnon” stuff has fallen on its face and its followers have gotten all grumpy and discombobulated, it has been quite amazing to see just how quickly the “Disclosure” peeps have also turned on their own masters.

Which reminds me, I watched a documentary the other day called “Alien Reptilian Legacy”.

I’m not exactly big on pointing out certain physical features nor making derogatory type comparisons, but holy FUCK! As soon as David Icke appeared, I was like…”damn, that dude appears to be physically turning into the very thing that he hates…a Reptilian.” Besides that, the documentary was pretty fucking boring tho. Not to mention that the whole Reptilian thing is muddy as fuck since some seem to think that the Reptilians are the good guys, Greys are the bad guys, and others think the opposite. (Greys = Good, Reptilians = Bad) Um…I’ve never seen a Reptilian. Nor a Grey. Nor any other fucking extraterrestrial as far as that goes. Seen some goddamn freaky-assed human weirdos come out of the Ufology community, but never seen an alien. Cept via the wizardry of books, film and television. Which reminds me, its been a while since I checked to see how many alien species are now said to reside on Earth/Terra. I think last time I checked, there was around 78 different aliens visiting from 78 different planets. Lets see if any new aliens have landed.

List Of Alleged Extraterrestrial Beings

Fucking hell…that list sucks balls.

Global rise in emerging alien species results from increased accessibility of new source pools

That’s from over three years ago, and it don’t help me much.

How Many Alien Societies Are There?

That’s more along the lines of what I’m looking for in that it’s timely, but that’s just projections from a more or less legit entity in the scientific community (SETI). I need an updated list of the honest-to-God extraterrestrial beings that are currently hanging their space hats on Earth.

How many alien species will there be in 2050?

GAH!!! That’s more capitalist wet market bullshit. I need aliens with space ships and phasers and warp drives and cloaking devices and chicks with three tits and other assorted technological advances.

Black, Grey and Watch Lists of alien species in the Czech Republic based on environmental impacts and management strategy

More markets? Blacks and Greys?

WTFuckingholyfuckingfuckballsmotherfucker!!!!

List of alleged extraterrestrial beings

If anything, that list is missing aliens.

Alien Languages May Not Be Entirely Alien to Us

I cannot read much of that article because it is behind a paywall. Which, hey…remember at carnivals where a certain amount of money would get you inside of the tent, but if you wanted to keep going to the various shows inside, you had to pay additional? They tempt you with all those banners, but the truth is that the fee to get in the door is only one fee of many. You then get shown the exit, your funds are depleted, and you’re not exactly sure what in the fuck just happened nor what you actually got for your cash.

^Billy Preston – Will It Go Round in Circles^

I got yet another question for you to chew on…

Q: Where do the disaffected go?

A: ?? ( o ) ( o ) ??

They’ve rebelled, gone their own way, found their own path…but are they welcomed back and nestled into the bosom of mamma’s embrace when everything collapses? Make no mistake, “they” want you as part of their team. They’ll split, divide and set you assunder via any and all means in order to get you into the fold. Build a something up, and tear it right the fuck back down so you have nowhere else to go. Has an air of demonstrating and reinforcing who the rightful owners are…eh? Have any idea what I’m talking about here?

Q: Who owns the Universe and everything in it?

A: ? ó¿ó ?

You’re on your own in answering this one. Maybe if you weren’t fighting like hell to get these fuckers on a pedestal, you wouldn’t find yourself fighting like hell to get them off.

Get them off…the pedestal. Not like get them off get them off. Although…you are getting off getting them on, and, getting off getting them off.

Sounds like you are getting the better end of the deal.
^Dr. John – Right Place Wrong Time^

Lets us take a spin around The Synchrosphere, yeah? Been a long time since I’ve done that, so lets see if we can see what the synchromystics/synchronauts are up to.

NOTE: Just because you aren’t one of the popular kids in the popular cliques doesn’t make what you do any less important. There are likely metric-mega-fucktons of people out there doing their thing who have no idea that “The Synchrosphere” is even a thing. They just keep on chugging, keep digging, keep learning, irrespective of what the cool kids are doing. Many of them prolly aren’t trying to carve out their own niche either. Just slogging through the craziness and trying to figure out what they are doing right and what they are doing wrong.

Lemme break out of that “note” and give a coupla examples of what I mean.

Now, I’ve seen a lot of stuff like that over time. They seem to be under the impression that they are completely alone, the only source of “truth”, and all this stuff they are seeing is driving them bonkers because they are shouting into the void and no one seems to be heeding their warnings. But at the same time, this individual does appear to be trying prove something, as well as trying to carve out their own niche because they seem to think that getting “Twitter Verified” will make everything they say and do OK. Validation by the very system(s) they seem to be at odds with, will, I guess, make their predictions more mostest trueerist of all because the message is getting out to millions instead of just a few hundred and people are actually listening! Or something. Maybe its a matter of money. Getting paid to do what you do is a helluva validation in our world and times.

/shrug

The Moose

The Moose, or BuckoTheMoose. I cannot speak for them, but I would imagine they would almost assuredly NOT consider themselves a Synchronaut. It’s probable he doesn’t even know what in the hell Synchromysticism even is (not that anyone else does either…heh). Hell, they could be the high priest of synchronicity for all I know.

I do kinda know “The Moose”, however. He’s a cool cat, but also very outspoken/pulls no punches. I’ve never really spoken with him about anything “spiritual”, nor have I seen him mention anything along the lines of more mainstream types of spiritual stuff. He appears to like cars, good beer, good cigars, is laid back, astute, has a great sense of humor, so yeah I guess he’s all about spiritual stuff. Just maybe not the same spiritual virtue signaling type bullshit that the herd considers to be spiritual. You know, spiritual virtue signaling…

  • like getting all dressed up in your religious uniform(s);
  • going to virtue display barn (church or maybe a political rally);
  • join in enthusiastically with the virtue signaling chants;
  • nod approvingly (but otherwise keep your piehole shut) as the messages from on high are delivered;
  • fall on your face and cry and wail for acceptance by the pure and holy;
  • maybe even get to rub palms with a few of the elite…

you know, virtue signaling.

 Digress. 

The Moose may not be your typical Synchronaut, but they’re a cog in the wheel. Not only that, they are their own wheel. A voice. Their voice. To exclude them would be tragic.

OK!!! So, enough of trying to figure out the synchronistic forces and dynamics at work on our planet, and lets off to see what the big guns are up to.

^Bobby Darin: Splish Splash W/Lyrics^

Up first is…

SYCNkronicles – Table of ContentsAxis of EvilMinor Level Perps – Foot Soldiers – Jen Psaki

Yes, that’s right…the Synchromysticism Forums are BACK!!!

Cept not. 

I admit that I’ve known for some time that these forums were there, but I further admit I’ve not given it much of a look. It appears that only one person posts there (Peg from the old whatchacallit forums), and a lot of it appears to be only reposts of news stories…all of which are separated by the same ad over and over where someone is plugging “astrological mini-readings” for $50 via cellphone text message. The forums layout is confusing, the giant pictures in the Table of Contents make no sense, and the whole place seems to be more about “Q” and “Truthers” than they seem to be about Synchronicity and/or Synchromysticism.

Now, is it possible that the one person who is making all the posts over there is actually a community account shared by several people? Sure. Maybe they’ve decided to take a 4Chan type approach to administration in order to bundle everything under a single moniker, so that the reader has no idea who is posting what. But even if that is so, as of the time of this writing, the forums only has 1046 posts in 575 topics, and there are only 11 registered members.

11. 

Not gonna be much discussion going on with only 11 registered members when only one of those registered users appears to speak. The forum layout also seems to be structured in such a way to discourage discourse. Topics are WAY to detailed and specific, there’s no readily apparent and coherent parent-child type of inheritance, and I assume the thought process here was to make moderation easier by putting all of the burden of staying on-topic on the posters.

Don't stay on topic? BANNED!!! Simple. 

Very authoritarian, hopelessly rigid and completely counter-intuitive to the erratic and unpredictable nature of Synchronicity. I can only assume that the goal is to amass useful and usable information. Actionable lists of worthwhile data.

Oh well, it’s their forums, they can do whatever they please with them. As to the Evergreen Consulting/Jen Psaki thing, controlling the shipping lanes and intercepting freight is how you make money in the datastreams. Just gotta add your own node to the existing infrastructure(s).

^’Footloose’ – Dancing In The Movies^

Let’s move on to…

THEE CHRONICLES OV JSTEVEKANE – Fingers

Spirals are syncy in my own sphere(s) as of late. This post is kinda interesting because only yesterday I crossed paths with that image above, and there’s been lots of holes and sinkhole types of things appearing on my radar. But what I’ve been mainly thinking about is a particular axis/view that is usually required to identify a spiral. Take for example the rifling within a barrel of a firearm/gun. You really need to be able to look up/down the barrel in order to best see the twist of the rifling. From the side you get more of a sine wave type of impression. But in the case of say a spiral galaxy, a side view will give the impression that there is no spiral at all. Just a cloudy more or less flat blob of a murky mess with maybe some wedge-shaped properties.

Kinda weird how the up/down of the z-axis changes based upon observer perspective in those two instances. Whatever this weird “edge” is I keep seeing tho? I can’t quite put my finger on it. I cannot tell if it’s a reset type thing where the reset somehow carries conditional types of properties over in order to exist in two places at the same time, or if there is simply a dimension that I’m missing. Perhaps there is always an inverse to the more forward types of dimensions so as to preserve information when one reaches the edge where dimensions cease to exist.

EX: The edge of the Universe.

Maybe I’m thinking too much in the micro scale and thinking too much about shrinkage instead of expansion and/or macro scale(s). Maybe the dimensions do not shrink when one reaches the edge. Maybe they expand. Maybe they both expand and shrink. Whatever it is, the typical 3/4/5/8+ types of dimensions that create our reality seem to become incoherent as a specific and succinct set. Perhaps the existence of an inverse carries an accurate enough stack of data in such a way that matter which becomes corrupt in our Universe/reality can and will remanifest itself elsewhere, all while giving the appearance of existing in two places simultaneously. Spooky action kinds of stuff that is not easily identified as such. We are, afterall, talking about more or less zero-times between extraordinarily remote/distant objects.

I can't quite put my finger on it.
^Depth Charge – Shaolin Buddha Finger^

Let us off to downunderland where their fall is just getting cranked up in anticipation of winter…

Just Watching the Wheels Go Round-Chris Mackey: The Positive Psychology of Synchronicity?

Brizdaz can always be counted on for having some interesting shiz, and today is no different. Looks like there’s some Synchronistic learnin’ going on there, and even tho I wrote the top bits of this post several days ago, its still kinda weird to see the connections. But hell, who am kidding. Synchronicity is nothing new, and the concept itself has likely been around since long before Jung got his hands on it. So…

Q: Where is the new?

A: Right here.

Me, you, him, her, it, they, them, us…all of this shit may be as old as dirt, but it’s new as fuck to us.

^The Police – Synchronicity II^

Looks like Rune Soup has a new podcast series type thingie or something…

Rune Soup-CARDS AGAINST INHUMANITY

And a new website. And new merch. New, new, new Rune Soup Stew…from 2021 to 2022.

Those vids are about an hour each so I’ll prolly forgo for the time being. Prolly won’t watch them later either because I’m lazy af.

Which reminds me…a certain someone who I shall not name (RooBeeDoo) noticed recently that a someone who hasn’t posted a blog post in a very long time had a new post up. Let’s saunter over there.

^Ween – Strap On That Jammypac^

SynchoMiss has posted on her blog for the first time in like 4 years…

SynchroMiss-The Year of the OX EquinOX

I have no idea where she’s been. Actually, that’s not true because I bumped into her on Twitter several years ago and I guess she’s kinda more active there.

I have no idea who she is.

Actually, that’s true. I have no idea who any of these fucking weirdos are. Just a buncha freaks being weird and doing strange stuff. Like…writing. And like I guess…reading. And then like…writing some more (all of which are pretty damn strange).

^ deadmau5 – Ghosts N Stuff ^

Aight…enough of that shit. It’s not that I don’t like cruising around and checking out people’s blogs, because I do. I almost never view any blogs anymore. Not UnderdogBitesUpwards, nor Frank Davis, nor Merovee Frank and not even Miss Ivannah The Topless Psychic.

heh

heh heh

heh heh heh heh heh heh

Anyway, yeah I like reading people’s blogs, just have completely lost the heart to do it. I don’t drop in with an encouraging hi, nor howdy, nor keep going, nor kiss my ass, nor fuck off and die…nothing. Nada. My heart just ain’t in it currently.

/queue sad music

Me me me me me em mem mememememememememememememe

Yeah, this post is already 9 pages long and I should likely get it over to Roob before Doomsday gets here.

^The Cramps. Bikini Girls With Machine Guns.^

We’ve got 800 fucking billion forms of communication available to us on this planet, and not a single motherfucker on this entire rock seems to be able to figure out how to communicate with one another.

Am currently suffering from a wicked case of flabbergastritis.

Perhaps I should go.

(no pun intended)
^Yello – Tied Up (Remastered 2005)^

cYacFa

^Butthole Surfers – Cherub^

*******

*Good idea, Clicky…*

The comment section is open, Dear Reader, so don’t be shy to use it if you have any questions or comments for Cade, myself or Clicky. Have a Song 😉